I lived in a ghetto from 6-12, '48-'55 (N. Sacramento). There were gangs, but I was not aware of any forced associations that created them. The neighborhood became more violent as the black population grew, and as the blacks grew from a minority to a majority, they became increasingly belligerent and aggressive. My parents moved to the "other side of the tracks" to avoid the violence. My new high school had one black, one hispanic, probably token. Seven years later I went back to my old neighborhood. I was at the high school and I was the only white around. I was quickly surrounded and taunted. I didn't get angry or mad. I made jokes with them, and let them use me as a butt of jokes. My short stay (5 minutes) could have turned out badly had I reacted differently. Later I realized I should not return, but at the time I was not fully mindful of the danger because I was not racist. I thought it was just an economic difference that caused the friction (I had an expensive car). My experience 6 years later, upon getting out of the Navy and returning to college at Sac State was worse. I went to a school music concert and I was the only white. I was confronted in the men's room by a drunk who demanded my money. I took it as a joke, but I knew he might get violent. Then two of his friends intervened, held him back, and told me to go quickly. I did, and I never went to another function. After graduation, I went to a James Brown concert in a good part of town but once again I was in a small minority. I was shoved and stared at with angry looks. I tried to ignore it, but finally I began to feel so uncomfortable that I left. I have gone into many bad neighborhoods over the years, some very bad (East Oakland, mid '70s) and had no trouble. Maybe I was lucky. I keep my wits about me, and I have had no trouble in poverty stricken countries when I traveled in Africa/Europe/S.America (mid '60s-'80). My only problems were in my home town.