Story of a Mastermind Criminal Child

When I was in the 5th grade, PS 125 in Harlem, the teacher, Ms. C, used this reward system called Scholar Dollars. Basically, depending on the grades we got on tests, good behavior, and so on, we'd get Scholar Dollars. We would use this money to pay for trips to the bathroom, get water from the fountain, or anything else that I can't remember 18 years later.

Well one day, we were doing something on the floor of the classroom. I can't remember exactly what. But, I remember wanting to go to the bathroom. As I got up to ask permission, I grabbed for my wallet and found that it wasn't there. I looked back to the area and saw my wallet on the floor.. OPEN. I had a cheap red wallet with velcro. There's no reason it should have been open. I am pretty sure my wallet fell out of my pants as it has happened before. However, I knew someone saw it and decided to snatch my money.

I pick up my OPENED wallet and found around 13 scholar dollars left. I was robbed. I was pissed. 200+ scholar dollars gone. They had the nerve to leave me with a little something. Just take it all damn it. Don't make it look like I was just broke. I was a good student. An honor roll student. I had cake (slang meaning I had a lot of money). Oh, the heart break. I complained to Ms. C and she had no feelings for me. It was my problem and that's the end of that. I had to go to the bathroom and I had just enough left to do that. Ms C took my money. She was heartless to my plight.

When I got home, I told my father about what happened. He looked over the money I had left and said we could just make copies. EUREKA. That's a fine idea, dad. We went to his copy machine which used roller paper - thick, waxy, heavy ink. This simply would NOT work. My father said it was fine. I knew better. Unfortunately, my father was not exactly one for proper execution. In fact, he still isn't one for the proper execution of anything.

I knew, if this were going it to be done, it had to be done right. I wound up in the basement of Columbia University at their copy center. My mother had connections there so when I got there, they actually recognized me. The guy did the copies for me. But, I'd have to use that scary monster of a paper cutter on my own. I sucked it up and braved the cold hard steel torture device for perfect cuts of my new Scholar Dollars.

I went back to school with my new money. I only made enough to get back to where I was before. But, I had a lot of small bills being that's what I was left with. So, I used the students to change my 1's and 5's to 10's and 20's. I was back on top folks.

Little did I know this would be the start to my criminal career in the 5th grade.

Ms C realized what was going on. She made an announcement, among loud whispers of my name from those little snitches, that things were going to change. I knew it was because of me but she didn't point me out. Ms C set up a bank where we'd keep our money and only be allowed to deposit or withdraw once a week. And, my friend, Moses, was the banker.

I didn't think about her subsequent counter measures as a reaction to my activities. I was greedy by now. I wanted more and I was getting away with it. So, I figured out a way to get more when she set up a new barrier. She'd eventually start signing the bills individually to counter my counterfeiting. That only lead me into the world of forgery as her signature was about as difficult to forge as those Scholar Dollars. She ended up using colored paper which I suppose was harder to get.

But, that didn't stop me. Why waste my money counterfeiting and my time forging signatures when there were fresh sheets of 100 Scholar Dollar bills in the bank book, already signed? The banker was my friend. So, I got into theft and got him into theft as well. My friend would get the sheets to me and we'd split the money as I'd handle the cutting. We had thousands between us. Kids with bad grades needed a little something. They'd come to me for it.

Eventually, Ms C canceled the Scholar Dollars. I laughed. I broke the system. Counterfeiting. Forgery. Theft. Money laundering. Who would have thought a 10yo could break the system? Although, I've always felt that Ms C knew it was me, she never confronted me. But, the experience taught me a lot - due diligence, patience, moderation, planning. When someone starts changing up the game, find a new game to play.

That's the story of a mastermind criminal child. And, I still haven't been caught yet!