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<text id=89TT2374>
<title>
Sep. 11, 1989: Bright Kids, Bad Business
</title>
<history>
TIME--The Weekly Newsmagazine--1989
Sep. 11, 1989 The Lonely War:Drugs
</history>
<article>
<source>Time Magazine</source>
<hdr>
NATION, Page 18
Bright Kids, Bad Business
</hdr><body>
<p> To residents of drug-drenched ghetto areas, cocaine dealers
seem the embodiment of evil. But that common and understandable
perception may be flawed. According to Cocaine Kids, a newly
published study by sociologist Terry Williams of the City
University of New York, the lucrative crack business has become
a lure for some of the best and brightest young men and women
in the inner city. To succeed at their illicit trade, dealers
must exhibit many of the qualities that traditional businessmen
admire: reliability, salesmanship, skill at handling people and
a willingness to work long hours under demanding conditions.
</p>
<p> "Many teenagers are drawn to work in the cocaine trade
simply because they want jobs, full time or even as casual
labor. The drug business is a `safety net' of sorts, a place
where it is always possible to make a few dollars," writes
Williams. "Money and drugs are the obvious immediate rewards.
But there is another strong motivating force, and that is the
desire to show family and friends that they can succeed at
something." For some, success simply means becoming a more
important dealer. Says Williams: "A kid who can routinely handle
money, control personal use of cocaine, deal with buyers and
control a weapon may make it out of the street and into the
elite world of the superdealer." But some also see drug dealing
as a stepping-stone to a new life.
</p>
<p> Williams spent four years studying a group of teenagers who
set up their own cocaine-selling crew in the Washington Heights
section of New York City. Of the seven Dominicans and one black,
not one expected to make drug dealing his life's work.
"Chillie," who had the prestigious job of being "behind the
scale" (meaning he weighed and cut coke in "the office"
apartment where many sales were made), was studying at CUNY. "I
really wanna finish," he told Williams. "I don't want to get
trapped in this coke business." Charlie, a black with
martial-arts training who stood guard in the apartment when
customers called, declared, "I don't plan to be in this business
forever; I've got potential to do better, and I will. But right
now, the thing is to make some money." Some were as young as 14
when they began selling drugs.
</p>
<p> The youngsters had not slipped innocently into selling
cocaine. The state's so-called Rockefeller laws, which mandate
a prison term for anyone over 18 convicted of possessing illegal
substances, have created an incentive for major drug suppliers
to employ younger teenagers as runners, look-outs and salesmen.
The young drug dealers saw no chance to find a well-paying job
with career possibilities. They knew that by selling drugs they
were risking jail terms and violence from competitors. Most of
them were aware that overindulgence in the substance they were
peddling would endanger their minds and was, at the least, bad
business. Explained "Masterrap," the crew's second-in-command:
"Selling coke is just like any other business -- you gotta work
hard, stay on your toes, protect what's yours and not f up with
silly matters."
</p>
<p> To make a profit, Max, the leader who supplied coke to the
others, had to be a shrewd judge of character. He knew how much
of the drug to give members, what price to charge, how soon they
must either pay him or return the unsold coke. Anyone who gave
too much away to entice clients or lure girls into sex parties,
or simply sniffed away his profits, had his consignments slashed
or his price hiked. While most of the crew snorted, those who
free-based the purer coke with pipes were considered unreliable.
Because they knew crack was so addictive, most of the members
shunned it.
</p>
<p> What happened to them? Max saved a nest egg and started a
legitimate business in Florida; he claims that the "old man"
who supplied the group with drugs reaped an $8 million profit
from the gang's labors. Charlie will graduate from college in
January. "Masterrap" is learning to be a cook. "Chillie" was
wounded by a gun-toting buyer, but is no longer dealing. Only
one of Williams' group is still in the cocaine business. For
most, the lure of easy money turned out to be a mirage. It did
not come easily, and it did not last. For the crew, says
Williams, becoming crack dealers was a "rational," though
tragically misguided, decision.
</p>
</body></article>
</text>