‘Rolling dolo’: Desistance from delinquency and negative peer relationships over the early adolescent life-course

Introduction

A substantial body of literature has examined how adult offenders desist from lives of crime and violence over the life-course (Laub and Sampson, 2001, 2003; Laub et al., 1998; Maruna, 1997, 1999; Maruna and Roy, 2007; Bushway et al., 2001). Much of this work is based on adult life-course transitions which have little relevance to youth. Despite extensive research on adults, little is known about how youth desist from delinquency, crime and violence over the adolescent life-course, particularly low-income, inner-city black, male youth (Roeber et al., 1991; Born et al., 1997). To our knowledge, no longitudinal, qualitative, life-course studies have examined desistance among this vulnerable population. Furthermore, research has neglected to examine how the formation and maintenance of weak social ties might help in understanding desistance over the adolescent life-course (Granovetter, 1973; Haynie and Payne, 2006).

Growing up in distressed neighborhoods marked by high rates of crime, violence and homicide (Anderson, 1999; Rosenfeld et al., 2003; Rich and Grey, 2005; Brezina et al., 2004; Jimerson and Oware, 2006; Stewart and Simons, 2010) forces some inner-city adolescents to make difficult choices in their daily lives with respect to peer networks. Many inner-city black boys face stark choices: they can form strong ties with networks affiliated or associated with ‘the street’ (Anderson, 1999; Oliver, 2006); exercise self-imposed isolation (Roy and Dyson, 2010; Maruna and Roy, 2007); or they can form loose, weak and distal ties with neighborhood peers that provide protection from victimization but do not require reciprocity or mutual obligation (Granovetter 1973).

Theoretical frameworks on delinquency have illuminated the importance of (1) peer associations in delinquency (Elliott et al., 1985; Elliott and Menard, 1996) and (2) strong ties to delinquent peer groups as a protective factor (Cohen, 1955; Short and Strodtbeck, 1974; Cloward and Ohlin, 1966; Anderson, 1999; Harding, 2010). While these ties may be protective, being part of a deviant peer group is also associated with behavioral problems during adolescence (Lacourse et al., 2006). Adolescents engaged in deviant peer groups are also at increased risk of injury, incarceration and early mortality (Lacourse et al., 2006; Teplin et al., 2005, 2014; Chassin et al., 2013).

Anderson (1999) argues that, in the absence of conventional adults or ‘oldheads’, having a number of people or ‘defenders’ who can be counted on for assistance is a form of protection for teenagers who live in high-risk communities. Harding (2008, 2009a, 2009b, 2010) refers to this as seeking a ‘measure of protection’. Taken together, these studies suggest that some urban youth who seek protection develop strong ties to individuals enmeshed and respected in the culture of the street.

Homans (1951) argues that there is a reciprocal exchange between an individual and a group. Members of groups reward each other through affirmations and expressions of approval. The expected return from individuals is compliance with group obligations. Any deviation from group obligations or group norms is met with ostracism. According to Homans (1951), the more cohesive the group the stronger the pressure to conform. This postulate describes gang membership. Members develop strong bonds and, by design, a strong sense of trust (Fagan, 1989; Sanchez-Jankowski, 1991; Thornberry et al., 1998, 2003; Esbensen et al., 2001; Wilkinson, 2003). As a result, many inner-city youth choose to anchor themselves in networks that are associated with or reinforced by the code of the street (Anderson, 1999). While members may always ‘have your back’, this is completely contingent on the principle of reciprocity or quid pro quo (Harding, 2008, 2009a, 2009b, 2010; Mateu-Gelabert and Lune, 2003, 2007; Goffman, 2009; Anderson, 1999).

Social capital is conceptualized as the social ties among persons and features of social organizations such as networks, norms, mutual trust, obligation and reciprocity that facilitate coordination and cooperation for the mutual benefit of individuals through the access of information and other resources to advance life chances (Bourdieu, 1986; Coleman, 1988; Putnam, 1995). When individuals interact regularly and trust one another, social relationships are more productive. Interpersonal trust is also critical in facilitating action and cooperation for the mutual benefit of individuals within a social network. Individuals with active and trusting connections to other community members develop positive character traits and they can get things done more easily and efficiently, including things that are personally beneficial (Jarrett et al., 2005).

However, what happens to inner-city youth if they reject the seductive street culture, gang affiliation and protection? One response is: youth may engage in a self-reported practice colloquially described as ‘rolling dolo’. This is a conscious effort to develop and nurture relationships characterized by weak ties with individuals and groups respected in the streets. By employing this strategy, youth are not outright rejecting their peers. Rather, they form weak ties to avoid the mutual social obligations that accompany forming strong bonds (i.e. reciprocity and loyalty). They perceive and project a sense of themselves as ‘free agents’ in their commitment to social relationships. Youth stay engaged with neighborhood peers and various social networks through the maintenance of weak ties. This strategy conflicts with the concept of relational social isolation or ‘knifing off’ from peers described in the desistence literature (Roy and Dyson, 2010; Maruna and Roy, 2007; Sampson and Laub, 2003).

Knifing off: A conceptual framework for desistance

Several competing theories on desistance suggest that individuals are thought to change their lives by severing themselves from harmful environments, undesirable companions or even the past itself (Maruna and Roy, 2007). This process, defined by scholars as ‘knifing off’ (Laub and Sampson, 2003), is used to describe ‘the ritual of wiping out self’ or ‘breaking with an unwanted past’. Knifing off was considered as marking a critical ‘turning point’ in the delinquent or criminal career. While useful, questions remain about the nature of the knifing off process and its relation to desistance from crime (Maruna and Roy, 2007). Does knifing off from friends and acquaintances imply not just avoiding them but completely abandoning them or formally ceasing one's friendship, like a street divorce? Does agency play any role in this? Elder (2008) found that agency in knifing can occur with structural mobilization (e.g. the draft), a change in environment (a new school) or even a subjective account of lived experience which involves some degree of change in situation, behavior or meaning. Laub and Sampson (2003) suggest that knifing off is a response to structurally induced turning points that serve as a catalyst for long-term behavioral change. Maruna and Roy (2007) argue that one alternative approach to knifing off is not so much based on structural turning points but more on the idea that individuals can change internally, experience a reform of their character or a personal conversion in their way of thinking.

Maruna and Roy's (2007) conceptualization of desistance as a process and reconstruction of a person's worldview and self-identity provides an insightful approach to desistance. In their view, desistance is a gradual process, less of an amputation of one's past life and more a reconstruction of it. This conceptualization may be useful in describing how delinquent youth negotiate and manage negative ties.

Strength of weak ties

Granovetter's theoretical framework on the strength of weak ties (1973, 1983) can be applied to the concept of knifing off and how delinquent youth manage negative ties to peer groups. While Granovetter focused on ties to the labor market, we argue that ‘weak ties’ can be used to examine desistance among low-income black boys living in high-risk neighborhoods. These ties may provide a buffer to violent victimization because they do not inherently require the mutual obligation, reciprocity, loyalty and trust required of group membership (Homan, 1951), characteristics also inherent in the generation of social capital (Coleman, 1988; Bourdieu, 1986). However, knowing the ‘right people’ in the street also affords social benefits. As a primary strategy to stay safe, some youth in our study made a conscious decision to selectively form weak ties with conventional adults and street-oriented peers.

Using this approach, youth are connected to multiple networks in the community, some good (e.g. older adults), others bad (e.g. gangs); yet the maintenance of weak ties may well be the most important consequence of staying safe in a violent neighborhood. While much of the literature on desistance focuses on the strength of strong ties, this ignores all the important issues involving their content (Granovetter, 1973).

One might argue that weak ties create alienation, which in turn may result in negative youth outcomes. However, weak ties may also be protective, producing positive youth outcomes. This theoretical approach is novel because it illuminates the value of fostering and maintaining weak ties to peer groups, and emphasizes how multiple weak ties may in fact be more protective than a few strong ties.

The study

The data in this paper were collected from a longitudinal and ethnographic study of adolescent violence conducted by the Vera Institute of Justice, the Growing Up Safe and Smart Project. The lead author conducted participant observations at a junior high school, Soulville Junior High (pseudonym), located in central Harlem, a predominantly low-income black neighborhood in New York City. Over a period of three years, he examined the social context of adolescent violence among 15 black male, middle-school students. The sample was selected in their 7th grade year and tracked through their 9th grade year in high school. The sample was heterogeneous. Study participants were selected from the school's honor roll as well as students in the school's Attendance Improvement Dropout Prevention program (AIDP), a program designed for students on the verge of dropping out of school. Twelve of the 15 participants (80%) came from single female households. The average age of the boys at the beginning of the study was 12.9 years. All qualified for free lunch, a significant indicator of poverty.

Daily field observations were conducted in the school's classrooms, hallways, schoolyard and the perimeter of the school at various hours during the school day. Observations in the local community were conducted on street corners, pool halls, recreation centers, arcades and public housing complexes. Observations were also conducted in the households of sample members; in many instances the lead author forged close relationships with parents and extended family members (e.g. aunts, uncles and grandparents). The lead author also served as a basketball coach at the research site and was immersed in the local community and lives of the participants throughout the study.

Each participant was interviewed at least once annually. All field notes and interviews were summarized and analyzed with the aid of qualitative data analysis software (N Vivo). To conduct the analysis, the research team read through each of the interview transcripts and extracted all of the segments related to the research questions. With the assistance of a graduate research assistant (unfamiliar with the data collection), we independently coded a subset of transcripts to note major themes, concepts, and patterns (Abrams, 2011). The initial broad coding categories were as follows: (a) respect, (b) minding my business, (c) gang affiliation, (d) exposure to violence, (e) ‘old heads’–conventional role models, (f) social organization of violence, (g) ‘rolling dolo’ and (h) social identity. When the coding procedure was completed, the author constructed a table that included the main organizing categories and subcodes in the left column and a summary of what youth reported in the interviews in the right column (Abrams and Hyun, 2009). Once the data pattern was identified, the author revisited the transcripts to re-examine and confirm the major findings (Abrams, 2011).

For this paper, we focused on a subsample of delinquent youth in the study. We define delinquency as chronic involvement in fights or disputes, more than two suspensions for disciplinary infractions, petty theft (e.g. shoplifting), chronic lateness, truancy, running away from home, disobeying household rules such as curfews and staying out late at night (Loeber et al., 2008; Phillips et al., 1971; Thornberry et al., 1993). A subsample of eight of the 15 sample members were categorized as delinquent.

Through our analysis of words and behaviors as analytic units, the consistent iteration of the colloquial street term ‘rolling dolo’ emerged. Delinquent youth used this term to describe a desistance strategy from delinquency, crime and violence. Rolling dolo was colloquially defined as to do solo or alone. Youth developed and maintained weak ties with peers enmeshed in the street culture; this strategy provided protection from violent victimization and street violence, without the burden of reciprocity and mutual obligation to engage in violence or to provide protection for others.

Social organization of violence

Gang rivalries over territory structured the social organization of youth violence in central Harlem. Gangs frequently engaged in violent disputes over gang territory. When the lead author met Ali (age 14), he was a member of a neighborhood gang called the Valley Crew, a violent youth gang which controlled the Valley public housing projects. The Valley Crew frequently fought against rival gangs, the Bloods and Crips, for control of the housing project. In several incidents, the Valley was involved in shootouts with both gangs. In one shootout, Ali's best friend, Chris, shot a rival member of the Bloods. The Bloods sought to avenge the shooting. Fearing for his life, Chris left the Valley and moved to North Carolina to live with his aunt. He was quickly labeled by members of the Valley Crew as a ‘punk’ because he left the neighborhood, essentially disavowing his loyalty to the gang. He lost his street credibility with members of the Valley. In the Valley, defending territory and representing the gang, even if it required being violently victimized, were key principles of the gang. Because Ali and Chris were once best friends, the gang questioned Ali's toughness and street credibility. Ali had to prove to members of the gang that he was loyal to the Valley and willing to defend the reputation of the gang at any costs. Ali's narrative illuminates how violence is used to attain status and respect (Anderson, 1999; Jones, 2009). It also highlights the increased risk for violent victimization among youth immersed in the gang culture (Anderson, 1999; Harding, 2009a).

My best friend, Chris, went down South because of all this [gang violence]. He shot a Blood so the Bloods got a hit on him. The Bloods got a hit on me too. I guess I'm guilty by association. So I got to watch my back at all times now. Even though I didn't shoot nobody, they know I was with him when he shot one of them. So it don't matter if I pulled the trigger or not they still want to kill me. So if they [Bloods] threaten my life, I'm not trying to back down. I'm going to try to protect myself. I don't care what they got. If they got guns, they better kill me. If they don't kill me, I'm going to come back and kill them.

Anticipating a violent confrontation with the Bloods, Ali routinely carried a gun for protection. Easy accessibility to firearms also increased his risk for violent victimization (Wilkinson, 2003).

My brother gave me a gun, a .25 [.25 caliber gun]. So I'm not worried. If they come at me with respect I got no problems at all but if they shoot at me, I'll shoot at them.

Ali fought one of the Bloods after school on a street corner located near the perimeter school, a primary staging area for violence. He injured his rival. This public performance of Ali's toughness increased his street credibility and respect.

I hit him two times. He was bleeding real bad! Guess they [Bloods] thought I was a punk, cause of what happened with Chris. I made everybody know, all them Bloods, I was like you mess with me, I'm going to beat you down.

Falling back: Aging out of violence in early adolescence

Some youth reported aging out of violence early on in the adolescent life-course. For these youth, by early adolescence they had established notorious reputations in the neighborhood for engaging in violence and crime. By age 11, some youth were deeply immersed in the code of the street and violence. By age 14, these youth were considered veterans or OGs (original gangsters) in the neighborhood. They were respected on the streets for fighting and not backing down from a fight. Here Sly (age 14), former leader of a local gang, Mini Mafia, describes the process of aging out of violence during his early adolescence.

Right now, nobody wants to feel my wrath. Everybody knows me out here. I don't have to prove myself no more. I was proving myself since I was little. That was like when I was 11 or 12. That's when I needed it, you know, start doing the rough shit. But when you get like my age like 14, chill out [desist]. Ain't no need [to engage in violence]. I got respect from everybody now.

Rolling dolo: Desisting from peer group ties

Ali's new high school was also controlled by the Bloods, Crips (predominantly African-American youth gangs) and two Latino gangs, the Latin Kings and the Netas. Because gangs controlled much of his social space in the neighborhood and school, Ali was faced with the decision to join a gang for protection. Many of his friends from the Valley Crew were now Crips. For Ali, joining the Crips appeared to be an easy choice. However, Ali decided to distance himself from the gangs. After spending much of his early adolescence as a member of the Valley Crew, Ali had grown tired of being involved in gangs and engaging in gang-related violence. Upon entering his freshman year in high school, he decided to distance himself from his street peers, gradually weakening social ties with his friends. For Ali, ‘rolling dolo’ was a strategy which he felt would keep him safe and out of trouble.

Although he no longer could rely on a gang for protection, Ali continued to present a public appearance of being capable of taking care of himself (Anderson, 1999). This may be attributed to his reputation as a fighter and former gang member. Unlike the concept of knifing off where individuals completely sever themselves from their former companions, and often the past itself, Ali mastered the nuanced approach of still presenting a façade of toughness while desiring to avoid confrontation and violence. Presenting the public appearance of being capable of holding one's own does not always involve physical fighting; at times it can involve more nuanced strategies to avoid confrontation and violence. Here he describes the nuanced strategy of rolling dolo.

I just roll dolo now. I like to be by myself. I realized that I'm not always gonna depend on somebody to come and get my back. I don't gotta depend on nobody. My rule is you don't disrespect me, I don't disrespect you, that's the way I see it. I'm done with living like that. You know how I was, being loud, wanting attention, getting into shootouts, staying in beef. I was drawing too much negative attention to myself and it wasn't good. I just stay away from that dumb shit now.

The street phrases ‘rolling dolo’, ‘doing me’ and ‘falling back’ were interchangeably used by some adolescents to describe the process of distancing themselves from negative peer groups. ‘Doing me’ captured the process of adolescents making social investments in their development instead of social investments in peers associated with ‘street culture’. We found that boys like Ali made a conscious decision as they transitioned to high school to weaken ties with negative peer groups. Rolling dolo represented a period in the lives of adolescents where they gradually ‘knifed off’ from negative peer groups. Roy's work (2011) on the transition to young adulthood among African-American males in Baltimore describes a similar process of ‘pulling back’ or re-evaluation among inner-city black males as they transition into young adulthood. Roy defines this process as ‘ghosting’ (2011), a process where young men slowly move away from negative peer groups by focusing more energy and effort on their own development, usually through work or school.

For youth like Ali, the transition to high school provided the opportunity to withdraw from the gang culture. It provided the opportunity to enter high school without the social burden of being obligated to a gang, even if it required weakening the bonds with street-oriented peers. Rolling dolo emerged as a protective strategy which fostered resilience. Fewer friends, more acquaintances and weak social ties provided a buffer from violent victimization. Ali soon preferred social acquaintances rather than close friendships (Small, 2009). Ali and other youth in the study preferred the social benefits of multiple relationships characterized by weak social ties with a broader array of peers in school and the community rather than strong ties with fewer people. Youth described these relationships as ‘being cool with people’. Youth defined ‘being cool with people’ as friendly but also somewhat disengaged (Leverentz, 2010). Roy and Dyson (2010) describe this process in their research on low-income young black men on the South Side of Chicago as ‘people know each other but don't really bond’. In their study, men stressed that distancing themselves from family and other intimate relationships was the result of lessons learned in the street – in recognition of spatial risks and boundaries. Ali elaborates on the process of maintaining weak ties that did not require reciprocity or mutual obligation.

I carry myself where I'm cool with a lot of people. We not close friends but I'm cool with them. I don't owe them shit, and they don't owe me shit but they still look out for me. We're just cool until you get to that point you disrespect me and then I'm gonna really have to see you about it.

Ali also made significant social investments in expanding his human capital. During this period, he began teaching himself how to play the drums and the keyboards. He rolled dolo throughout his freshman year. For Ali, this strategy provided both protection and social rewards.

I'm not that type of person anymore that I gotta move with a gang or a crew. If I gotta do things, I do it by myself. I think that if I would have stayed on the path I was on, I would've been in jail or dead by now because I got a temper and shit. When I was in junior high I didn't listen. I was rowdy. But now I'm real quiet. I learned that I get more girls being like this too. I'm just different now. I guess I just matured.

Harding's work (2008) on adolescent violence, trust and friendships among black male youth in violent neighborhoods found that boys were more likely to access older street-oriented peers in the local community who can provide protection. However, Ali did not choose this approach. After spending much of his freshman year alone, Ali joined a church choir. He played the drums and keyboards for the choir, and spent a significant amount of his free time traveling with the choir on revivals to other parts of the country. Ali gradually shifted from rolling dolo to seeking out conventional adult role models in the church for support. Here Ali describes breaking away from the street culture of the Valley and seeking out new experiences and older conventional role models.

My grandfather started a church a while ago in the Bronx. He's too old to run it now. So they got a new pastor. Even though it was my family's church I would never go, because I wasn't in to church like that. But I liked to play the drums and they had a choir so I was like maybe I'll try it out, I didn't think I was gonna like it but I did. So now if I need to talk to somebody about my problems I talk to my pastor, Pastor Prentice. I realized too that you need to break out of [leave] the Valley sometimes. So going on the church revivals is cool. You need to go somewhere and experience new things.

Ali also developed a relationship with two adolescent boys from the Valley (Mike and Teddy). Although Mike and Teddy grew up in the Valley, they were not enmeshed in the street culture and were never members of the Valley Crew. Ali described his prior relationship with Mike and Teddy as ‘being cool with each other’ despite not being in the same social network. Mike and Teddy were aspiring rap artists. They recently signed a record deal and were searching for a producer. Ali had an emerging reputation in the neighborhood as a good musician. He decided to partner with Mike and Teddy. This led to spending much of his free time with them producing music.

I have a new group of friends now. I'm with my people Mike and Teddy making music. It's a nice group of kids to be hangin' around with cause they don't get in no trouble, they just chill and we like the same things.

Ali revealed at the end of the study that rolling dolo, going to church and eventually finding a new group of friends saved his life.

I needed to fall back for a minute [take a break] to see what was really going on in my life. I needed to be by myself. Being in the street had me, wildin', carrying guns, shooting at people, just doing dumb shit. Now I'm in church a lot. I spend most of my time there. I'm in church from like 6:30 until like 10:30 or 11pm every day. By the time I leave there it's dark and nobody is out on the street. If I'm not at church, I'm at the studio hanging out with Mike and Teddy.

For youth like Ali, who once embraced the code of the street (Anderson, 1999), rolling dolo emerged as a protective strategy to desist from violence and gradually transition out of the street culture.

The social shuffle: The search for social identity

When we met Corey (age 12), he was friendly with many of the boys in his class. His friendships were primarily loose associations with boys from various social groups in the school. On certain days he would hang out with the ballers. These were boys we classified as ‘jocks’ who earned their reputations for playing basketball. Corey was a fairly good player who participated in several basketball leagues. On other days we observed Corey hanging out with the ‘thugs’. This group was comprised of boys who were gang members. Anderson (1999) describes this process of trying on various hats of social identity as the ‘social shuffle’. In the social shuffle, youth try out roles and scripts in a process that challenges their talents and prior socialization (Anderson, 1999; Jimerson and Oware, 2006). During his 7th grade year, Corey began to spend more time with another boy in the study, Sly (age 13). Sly was the leader of a local youth gang called the Mini Mafia. Sly was deeply enmeshed in the culture of the street. He had earned a reputation in school and his neighborhood as a violent boy. Corey and Sly lived in the same housing project in the northern end of central Harlem.

Although Corey was not a member of Sly's gang, Sly and Corey considered themselves to be social acquaintances who routinely engaged in delinquent behavior (e.g. fighting and petty theft) in school and the neighborhood. Using the street corners as a public staging area to campaign for respect, Corey and Sly would intentionally seek out fights to advance their reputations throughout Harlem. Here Corey explains the social organization of violence in the neighborhood.

Man, I've been in a lot of fights. I just had a fight downtown on 20th Street. I broke this kid's leg with a pipe. He wanted to fight me because I didn't live around there. Then I had another fight over at those projects on 33rd Street. Some kid asked me did I live around there and I said no. Then he said we'll you ain't supposed to be around here so we just started fighting, I busted his lip, he was bleeding all over the place. I've been in mad fights all over Harlem.

Corey lived with his mother, older brother Darnell and his maternal grandmother. Corey's father was murdered when Corey was 11 years old. Corey's older brother Darnell (age 19) was well respected in the neighborhood for engaging in violence. In the first year of the study, Corey's mother moved her two sons out of the projects into a gentrifying neighborhood in southern Harlem. She hoped that the new neighborhood would positively influence her children's behavior. Here, Corey's mother articulates her concerns for Corey's safety and her profound lack of faith in the police to provide protection for her boys.

As Corey gets older I worry about him being with the right people and going in the right direction. His brother, Darnell, is getting into a lot of trouble being with the wrong crowd. He's 19 and I’m about to kick him out the house because he's not doing anything with his life but hanging with the wrong people, you know, the ‘do nothing crowd’. So you can understand by seeing that, I don't want Corey with the wrong crowd and especially not to hang out on the corners around here. All of my family is so spread out, so we are basically down here alone and it's rough down here too but it's not as bad as the projects. There are a lot of policemen doing dirty things to young black boys around here, they're just looking for young boys to harass and lock up.

The transition to a new neighborhood did little to alter Corey's behavior. Corey still managed to form loose associations with boys from the community who were involved in delinquency. By the end of his 7th grade year, Corey began to spend more time socializing with delinquent boys. He was doing poorly in school and was chronically truant. He was placed in the school's Attendance Improvement Dropout Prevention program. During this time, he initiated a new relationship with a boy in his building, Marcus, who like Sly had a reputation in the neighborhood for violence. Corey and Marcus spent most of their time together hanging out on the block and getting into fights.

My neighborhood is boring. It's dull and dead. There's nothing around here to do for me and Marcus unless we make something to do like chase kids and beat them up or something like that.

As Darnell moved further into a life of crime, Corey's mother (Tina Jackson) focused more of her efforts on keeping Corey out of trouble. During the summer between his 7th and 8th grade year, his mother decided to enroll Corey into the Fresh Air Fund program. This cultural exchange program placed low-income inner-city youth with a middle-class family for six weeks during the summer. Corey was placed with a white upper middle-class family in Vermont. At the completion of the program, Corey's mother sent him to spend the remainder of the summer with her older brother Melvin, who lived in an affluent suburb of Dallas, Texas. By the end of the summer, Melvin suggested that Corey should remain in Dallas.

My brother wants Corey to come and live with him now that Corey's getting closer to going to high school. He wants to keep Corey down in Texas because he believes that it will be better for him and that Corey will stay out of trouble. But as a mother I'm not sure if I want him to go.

Corey returned to Harlem for 8th grade. Tina Jackson agreed with her brother that she would allow Corey to live with him permanently after he completed the 8th grade. When Corey returned to Harlem, Marcus, Sly and Darnell were incarcerated. Marcus had stabbed a boy in an altercation and was charged with attempted murder. Sly was arrested for robbing a woman on a subway. Darnell was arrested for armed robbery. These three events appeared to be the turning point in Corey's decision to roll dolo.

After I came back from visiting my uncle in Texas, I found out Marcus had been locked up. After that I just stopped talking to him, I didn't even go see him when he was locked up, write him, nothing. I just left him and everybody else alone. I had to leave everybody alone, my brother, Sly, everybody, because they were getting into too much trouble. I just don't trust people anymore. I stay away from people now. I just want to be myself. You know basically I roll dolo. I can't wait to get out of Harlem and go to back to Dallas to live with my uncle.

As Corey entered the 8th grade, he developed a cynical distrust of most people he encountered. He had lost faith in individuals to champion for his personal security and social mobility (Young, 2004). The arrest of his friend Marcus reinforced his reluctance to form relationships with boys in his peer group. He no longer socialized with the ‘thugs’ or ‘ballers’ in school. During recess, a time he would routinely spend with the ballers or thugs, he now spent playing chess with his 8th grade homeroom teacher, Mr Parker. Here Corey explains his growing distrust of his peers.

In like the last two years, I learned that you can't trust nobody, I don't let nobody get too close to me because if they know too much about me they might get me in trouble or just let me down.

Like Ali, Corey had lost faith in peers enmeshed in the street. As he entered 8th grade, Corey decided that he would sever ties with boys in his peer group. Similar to Ali, Corey gradually sought out older conventional role models for protection. In school, Corey developed a close relationship with his teacher and chess coach Mr Parker. He no longer spent his free time in school socializing with other students. Outside of school, Corey spent much of his time at home; he rarely spent time outside on the block. This strategy appeared to be a form of self-imposed social isolation, much like what Roy and Dyson (2010) found that some young black men in low-income neighborhoods in Chicago engaged in to stay away from trouble. When Corey did venture outside of his home, he often accompanied his aunt's Girl Scout troop on trips to museums and other cultural outings.

My aunt is a Girl Scout leader and she takes me on trips with her and the Girl Scout troop. It's cool but I'm the only boy.

Corey successfully graduated from 8th grade and was scheduled to move to Dallas prior to the start of his freshman year. In the final interview of the study, Corey was asked whether he thought ‘rolling dolo’ was successful. Unlike Ali, who still remained ‘cool with everybody’, Corey's strategy of rolling dolo was much more abrupt. He severed social ties with peers and family members. This form of knifing off was consistent with the process described by Laub and Sampson (2003).

I didn't want to be like my brother, Marcus or Sly, locked up, with no life and no job. I wanted to have a future. I wanted to make my family proud. So I stopped hanging out. I left everybody alone. Most of them are getting left back, getting in trouble, going to jail and stuff like that, and I'm graduating. I left them alone. I just wanted to get ahead.

However, Corey struggled with the concept of friendship and trust.

To keep it real with you, I don't even know what a real friend is. So I just stay to myself, roll dolo, you know what I'm sayin? Ain't nobody else gonna help me. You can't trust people to be friends. You can't trust them with anything.

Rolling dolo: Resisting peer group ties

Boys like Nick (age 13) avoided gang involvement by participating in organized youth basketball leagues. He was a member of the ‘baller’ group. Studies on inner-city black males and sports have found that young black males work hard at honing their basketball skills to establish a street identity, a process defined as ‘to get known’ (Brooks, 2009). Here, Nick discusses this concept.

By playing all the time, coaches see me play and then they want me to play for them. They'll see me doing good in a game and they'll come up to me and say ‘I want you to play on my team.’ So I'll give them my phone number and they'll call me up and ask me to play for them. That's the only way you can get known in Harlem, you gotta play in mad leagues.

Playing in youth basketball leagues exposed Nick to routine violence. The social organization of violence in the community was also framed around basketball leagues where teams were often affiliated with gangs. In Harlem, gangs such as the Bloods and Crips and local drug dealers sponsored youth basketball teams. Betting on teams was part of the underground economy of the neighborhood (Venkatesh, 2008). As a result, conflict often occurred at games. Most incidents were shootings linked to disputes over gambling debts or drugs. Nick had witnessed several shootings at league games. He was also involved in numerous fights while playing basketball. As a physically small player, Nick had to constantly fight to earn respect.

I had a lot of fights this summer because they [other players in the neighborhood] think that since I'm small that I'm a punk so I had to teach them. There's this kid on my block I had to beat up because he thought that I couldn't fight. I beat him up two times. Now he knows the time [respects me]. But you never know what's going to happen to you around here. People will try to diss [disrespect] just because I'm small.

In the process of ‘getting known’, Nick would often play in several basketball leagues over the course of a day, sometimes leaving a game at halftime to travel to another game. In several instances, the lead author served as his personal chauffeur, driving him to and from games throughout the day.

Sometimes I have like five games on Saturday and Sunday or sometimes I might play in like three games in one day. Sometimes I leave at like the third quarter and then go to another game or I tell my coach I've got another game somewhere else so I can't play the whole game and he'll let me go.

Although Nick played in multiple leagues, he avoided forming friendships with his teammates. However, he did develop strong relationships with his coaches (Martin et al., 2010; Richardson, 2012). Here Nick describes why he did not develop relationships with his teammates. One aspect of the code is a lack of faith and trust in the police and other individuals (e.g. peers) who may champion for personal security and safety (Anderson, 1999). Nick had little faith in his peers to champion for his personal security. Like Ali and Corey, Nick also sought out older conventional role models.

I don't really mess with dudes on my teams. None of them are my friends. If I end up being friends with somebody I'm playing with on my team, he might have beef with somebody we're playing against who could be in a gang or whatever, now I got to take his back. But I'm not sure if he would really look out for me if something were to happen to me. I look up to my coaches though, because they teach me stuff. I like talking to my coaches because they teach me more than just basketball, they teach me how to respect my elders, like to stay off of drugs, how to have good hygiene, don't have babies, not to get into fights or join a gang, they ask me how are my grades in school, how I'm doing in this and that subject.

With the exception of the relationships he formed with his coaches, Nick had no close friends. His relationships were comprised of acquaintances (Small, 2009; Granovetter, 1973) and weak social ties with other boys whom he knew from the leagues or school, but he never socialized with them off the court or outside of the school setting. When the lead author first met Nick he had several friends. However, as youth gangs began to emerge in Harlem, many of his friends joined the Bloods. Not wanting to join a gang, Nick severed his social ties with his friends and decided to ‘roll dolo’.

It seems like everybody wants to be down with a gang. Everybody wants to be Bloods. A lot of my friends that I use to hang with are Bloods now, so I don't hang out with them anymore. I just roll dolo and mind my business. Everybody wants me to be down with the Bloods but I think it's stupid.

Nick avoided forming relationships with peers who would place him at greater risk for violent victimization. Instead, he began to form relationships with conventional role models, primarily coaches and older men from the community who would protect him while on the street (Brooks, 2009). This is similar to Anderson's (1999) concept of ‘old heads’, older black men in the local community who informally serve as mentors and social fathers.

Adolescent boys in disadvantaged neighborhoods may also seek out non-conventional older peers enmeshed in the street culture (Harding, 2009a) as valuable sources of protection. However, Nick sought older males for their ability to reinforce pro-social messages such as avoiding fights, doing well in school and staying off of the corners. These adults reinforced messages that walking away from a fight, getting good grades in school and not joining a gang were respected behaviors. For Nick, these adults reaffirmed his choices. More importantly, these adults championed for his personal security and encouraged social mobility. Like other young men in the sample, Nick perceived peer groups as a social liability.

Rolling dolo: Civic and social divestment

For other youth in the study, such as Clyde (age 13), rolling dolo manifested itself in other ways, such as a conscious divestment in civic engagement (Putnam, 1995).

If you mind your business trouble won't come your way. Roll dolo and mind my business that's the way I see it … If I'm walking down the street and I see somebody robbing somebody, I could stop it but that don't got nothing to do with me. I understand that people want to be a good Samaritan, and try to help but, you can't just help everybody, sometimes you should leave it alone because there is always going to be trouble.

When the lead author first met Clyde, he was well known and respected in the school for fighting and playing basketball. In Clyde's 7th grade year, he developed close relationships with two boys in his neighborhood, Maurice (age 13) and Lance (age 16). Both boys were killed. Maurice was killed while playing with a gun in his home. Lance was killed in a gang-related drive-by. Like Corey, these traumatic events influenced his decision to roll dolo.

My friend, Lance, got shot and I was with him like five minutes before it happened. These boys were looking for him and when they found him they just did a drive-by on him. Like eight people got shot in that drive-by but Lance was the only one that died. I was hurt because he used to tell me that it was too late for him to change the things that he did in his life, but he was like I don't feel bad about what I did because I did it. He was like we all got our time when we got to go and that's the last thing I heard from his mouth. Later that day I turned on the TV and saw it on the news, the news said he had got shot on my grandmother's block. When I saw it I just started crying.

Following the deaths of his friends, Clyde desperately wanted to leave Harlem. Like Corey, he engaged in a self-imposed form of social isolation, opting to stay in the house rather than go outside. He referred to Harlem as ‘Trouble City’ and began to distance himself from participating in social activities. He was also less inclined to develop social relationships. He believed that the neighborhood residents cared little about his safety. Taking care of oneself, not relying on peers for protection, was his mantra for staying safe.

I just watch my back now, roll dolo. Cause' there ain't nobody else that's going to look out for me in these streets, but my family, that's about it. The streets and the people around here don't give a fuck about me and stray bullets don't have no name.

Clyde perceived his peers in his neighborhood and in his school as potential sources of trouble. Yet, he acknowledged that ‘being cool with people’ and maintaining weak ties with peers kept him safe.

I used to hang out with this kid named Barry. He used to live in my grandma's projects. But after I realized some things about him I stopped hanging around him. My grandmother started telling me stuff about him and I started to see it. I was like, yo' man, I can't hang with you no more. I had to fall back from hanging out with him [left him alone]. I was seeing that I was starting to change being around him, like I was getting into more trouble … I try to make sure wherever I go I know everybody, that's the best way to stay out of beef, you have to just try to stay cool with everybody.

Similar to other boys in the study, Clyde began to gradually distance himself from relationships with his peer group, weakening his social ties. Clyde did not develop close relationships with any of his peers in school or in his neighborhood. During his 8th grade year, Clyde began boxing at a neighborhood gym. He soon formed a close relationship with his trainer, Mr Wade.

I was bored with staying at home all the time, not doing anything, and I always wanted to box because I used to box when I was little. I knew this man, Mr Wade, he's a boxing trainer. He owns a gym around here on 41st Street. So I went and signed up. I like Mr Wade because he teaches me discipline, humility and like how to walk away from fights on the street. He tells me not to fight on the street especially when you know you can beat them.

Clyde's relationship with Mr Wade is another example of youth forging social relationships with conventional adults. These adults reinforced pro-social messages that were counter to the street code, such as walking away from a fight. Clyde also began to spend more time with one of his uncles, Timothy, a bus driver for Greyhound. Timothy lived in a rural town located in the Pocono Mountains of Pennsylvania. On the weekends, Clyde would spend most of his time at his uncle's home. Here Clyde describes the value of forming relationships with older men in his family and community.

Even though there still are a lot of gangs and stuff around here. It doesn't bother me as much now because I go to my uncle's in the Poconos a lot and he talks to me about life and stuff like that. As I'm getting older, I realized that I'd rather talk to my uncle or another older man like Mr Wade about my problems like getting into beef or girls or whatever. There are just certain things you can't talk to your mom about that you can talk to your uncle or your father or another man about. They understand me better because I'm a boy.

In the final year of the study (Clyde's freshman year of high school), Clyde attended a local high school with a notorious reputation for violence and gangs. He was alone much of the time. During his free time he stayed at home in a self-imposed isolation, not wanting to go outside.

I be at my grandmother's house a lot. Usually I go there after school. If I'm not at home I'm at my grandmother's house.

Here Clyde describes the gang culture in his new school and his strategy for staying safe.

In my new school there are a lot of Puerto Rican gangs, like the Latin Kings and the Netas, and they all carry guns and knives so why shouldn't I? But I feel like if I do carry a gun and something happens I wonder how my mother is going to feel about me? So I just mind my business and keep to myself so trouble won't come my way.

Discussion

In this paper we explored some of the ways in which low-income black boys manage relationships with peer groups, gangs, and schoolmates in order to stay safe. What some might consider ‘normal’ relationships, characterized by reciprocity and mutual obligation, some boys choose to avoid by fostering weak social ties with peers – and they often do this in communities where street-oriented youth dominate public space.

To survive in such places, some boys use innovative ways to manage negative social ties with individuals enmeshed in the culture of the street. Some boys cautiously withdraw from negative peer relationships until they identify peers who are capable of encouraging personal mobility. Young (2004), in his study of inner-city black men and social mobility in Chicago, describes this process as getting with the ‘right’ kind of people. Boys in our study used a similar approach. While the public and even some scholars assume that low-income black boys may inevitably join gangs for protection, the results presented here suggest that some employ a more nuanced and complex strategy to survive in violence-prone neighborhoods.

One consistent theme we found was ‘being cool with everybody’. More theoretically, this meant developing multiple weak ties with various peer groups in the local community and school; these ties helped produce social relationships that could buffer violent victimization. Knowing the ‘right people’ in the street reduced the risk of being victimized. These relationships were not characterized by mutual obligation or reciprocity; they were far less obligatory than strong social ties.

Granovetter's (1973) conceptual framework of the strength of weak ties captures the strategy of ‘rolling dolo’. It leads to this theoretical proposition: The more diffuse interpersonal networks and weak social ties black male youth possess within high-risk urban neighborhoods, the more likely they are to remain safe and out of trouble. The use of such weak ties is often poorly represented in studies of resilience among urban black male youth. Our findings offer an answer to Granovetter's important conceptual question: ‘how can negative ties be handled?’ Clearly, some urban black youth marshal weak ties as a way of surviving the streets.

Rolling dolo may also be paradoxical. Weak ties, often associated with alienation, are seen here as indispensable to individuals' opportunities and positive youth outcomes. Strong ties which foster local cohesion, particularly to negative peer groups, may potentially lead to negative youth outcomes, such as delinquency and victimization. We support Granovetter's argument that paradoxes are a welcome antidote to theories which explain everything all too neatly. In poor urban neighborhoods, choosing to remain apart from one's peers is not necessarily alienating, but may in fact lead to more socially normative behaviors and the ability to avoid trouble.

Youth in this study made conscious decisions not to invest in relationships characterized by strong ties primarily because these relationships on the street required mutual obligation, trust and – more importantly – reciprocity. Creating multiple acquaintanceships rather than friendships provided the opportunity to negotiate the social context of adolescent violence without the burden of ‘watching someone's back or being anchored to a specific street identity, block, gang or crew’ (Small, 2009; Mateu-Gelabert and Lune, 2003, 2007). Rolling dolo removed any sense of social indebtedness to other individuals in the street, in a culture where street capital is grounded in a system of credits/favors which individuals routinely exchange. Some youth choose to be alone because they prefer not owing anyone. The boys shrewdly manipulate weak ties for their social benefit without giving much in return. These youth manage to avoid the proverbial ‘quid pro quo’ in their relationships with peers.

The findings also suggest that youth involved in delinquent activities (e.g. fighting, truancy) often made the decision to desist prior to late adolescence and the transition to adulthood. As early as 9th grade, some youth chose to walk away from delinquency, crime, violence and gangs. This kind of aging out occurred much earlier in the developmental trajectory than typically described in the desistance literature. The peak of delinquency and violence for youth in this study, albeit a small sample, occurred at an earlier age. Youth reported being engaged in fights, carrying and shooting firearms, and assaults by age 12. This may explain why early to mid-adolescence for some marked an abrupt decline in delinquency and violence.

This paper brings attention to the complexities of decision-making among some urban youth as they transition from early to mid-adolescence, especially the decisions they make to avoid delinquency, violence and crime. We have provided a narrative rarely acknowledged: that some delinquent black boys in low-income communities desist much earlier in the adolescent life-course than previously thought. Youth in this study were exposed to chronic violence, early violent death, school failure and the disproportionate minority contact of peers, familial and community members with the criminal justice system. These experiences often influenced their decision to form weak ties with certain peers and family members (Laub and Sampson, 2003; Maruna and Roy, 2007).

Unlike the conceptualization of knifing off proposed by Laub and Sampson (2003), which frames knifing off as an abrupt process and the complete washing away of one's past life, we found that youth often maintained weak social ties with street-oriented peers, as they developed strong ties with conventional adult role models and mentors. Our findings suggest that boys consciously sought older conventional adults (both familial and non-familial) to provide guidance and social support. This strategy most frequently occurred when the boys decided to gradually knife off from negative peer and familial ties.

Our findings support the theoretical frameworks of knifing off posed by both Laub and Sampson (2003) and Maruna and Roy (2007). As we described, for some boys (e.g. Ali) desistance could best be described as an evolving process and a reconstruction in one's thinking about self-identity (Maruna and Roy, 2007). In other cases of knifing off (e.g. Corey), individuals abruptly sever negative relationships with peers and family members (Laub and Sampson, 2003). Whether abrupt or gradual, the decisions to knife off triggered a profound change in a boy's thinking as he transitioned from early to mid-adolescence. Boys in our study neighborhoods were forced to grow up early. They had to engage in serious ‘adult-like’ decision-making regarding their own mortality and success (Jarrett, 2003; Burton, 2007; Nebbitt and Lombe, 2010). Youth in this study exhibited a significant amount of agency in determining their outcomes. They were not passive actors.

While the research literature has documented how low-income black parents use the strategy of home confinement to keep their children safe in high-risk neighborhoods (Jarrett, 1997, 1999), little is known about how and why some low-income black youth use this approach. Such self-imposed isolation may reduce the likelihood of violent victimization, but it may also have detrimental effects on adolescent development and socialization depending on the extent this strategy is employed. There was no evidence to suggest that youth engaged in rolling dolo as a permanent strategy throughout the adolescent life-course. Rather, the strategy was often temporary. The transitional period of ‘being alone’ allowed some youth to become more reflective of their behaviors and transformed their concepts of self-identity and masculinity. Thus, ‘rolling dolo’ could be described as a transformative experience for some low-income black boys.

Future studies should further explore how youth living in disadvantaged areas create their own strategies to stay safe and out of trouble (Harding, 2008, 2009a, 2009b, 2010; Mateu-Gelabert and Lune, 2003, 2007). Is rolling dolo used in other dangerous contexts like schools and jails? Does rolling dolo look and operate the same across different contexts? Is this strategy used by low-income black girls? Is this strategy used across race and social class? Research on successful youth development in high-risk neighborhoods has paid significant attention to how institutions (e.g. youth sports organizations, churches, schools) and adults create safe havens and safety strategies for youth, but few studies have explored how youth develop their own protective strategies (Furstenberg et al., 1999; Jarrett, 1997, 2003). Whether ‘rolling dolo’ or called by some other name (e.g. ‘minding my business’, ‘falling back’), the larger question remains: In what ways do inner-city, black male youth negotiate negative ties in order to remain safe and out of trouble? In light of recent increases in gang-related violence and violent victimization among black male youth in cities such as Chicago and Baltimore, this is a research question that warrants considerable urgency and attention.