TIME: Almanac 1990/1990 Time Magazine Compact Almanac, The (1991)(Time).iso/time/091189/09118900.052

Text File | 1990-09-17 | 4KB | 75 lines

NATION, Page 18

Bright Kids, Bad Business


    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.

    "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.

    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.

    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."

    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.

    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.