My mother had what we called "Thomas hands," a tag derived from her maiden name: hands that hit so hard you had to be hit only once to know you never wanted to be hit again. The nickname began generations ago, but each generation took on the mantle of justifying it.

In Chapter 1, while recounting an incident that happened when he was small, Moore elaborates on the legacy of physical violence in his family. His mother is a powerful hitter, a trait she inherited from her father through multiple generations. The impact of their punches is so devastating that they’ve earned their own name, one intimately tied to the family since it derives from their surname. Throughout the book, Moore depicts his mother, Joy, and her father as positive, loving influences in his life. Still, this cycle of violence looms large over the family dynamic. It especially causes Moore to fear his mother. Pivotal moments in Moore’s later life involve him explicitly choosing not to respond with physical violence during confrontation—including not striking his mother back when she hits him. Though this passage is the only one that directly mentions “Thomas hands,” a significant aspect of Moore’s development into the adult he becomes is his rejection of this aspect of the family’s legacy while he instead eventually continues the family’s commitment to education.

When Mary told her mother that she was pregnant, at age sixteen, Alma said, "I don’t care! You are going to finish school and go to college." Alma had never been to college, the great regret of her life, and like Mary, she became a mother well before she entered her twenties.

In Chapter 1, Moore recounts the conversation Mary had with her own mother upon discovering she was pregnant with Tony, Wes’s older brother. In later decades, both Tony and Wes will also become teen parents, but this passage articulates exactly why this generational cycle can provide such a disadvantage. In their discussion, Mary and Alma connect teen parenthood with dropping out of high school and not pursuing college. Though Mary and Alma are both determined to buck the odds because they value the benefit of a college education, their conversation foreshadows the same sense of being overwhelmed that Wes eventually feels when his own girlfriend becomes pregnant decades later. By this point, Wes himself was not planning to attend college, but becoming a teen parent significantly lessens the opportunities he has available to him. He ultimately ends up not finishing high school, and though he shows genuine determination in getting his GED, his professional opportunities are limited when he tries to pursue legitimate employment.  

He loved and respected his brother. Tony was the closest thing Wes had to a role model. But the more he tried to be like his brother, the more his brother rejected him. The more he copied him, the more Tony pushed back. Wes wanted to be just like Tony. Tony wanted Wes to be nothing like him

In Chapter 4, Wes is heartbroken after his beloved older brother Tony beats him severely upon realizing Wes has also become involved in drug-dealing. This complex dynamic depicts how truly difficult escaping generational cycles can be. Tony wants better things for his brother, but he has no idea how to lead his brother there, beyond trying to use physical force and intimidation—both of which are ultimately ineffective means of dissuading Wes. The streets are the world they know, and Tony can’t provide Wes a viable path out because he himself doesn’t know how to escape this dangerous environment. He only knows how much he doesn’t want this world for his brother. This passage especially amplifies why mentors are so significant for Moore. Unlike Wes, whose primary role model is his tough, street-savvy brother, Moore is exposed to a much wider variety of mentors who model a different path for him and have the ability to guide him along the way. Their help makes all the difference and proves far more effective than Tony’s well-meaning but misguided intervention.