The Kinder Swindler
How a fifth grade-Madoff “made off” with my money and changed me forever.
Have you seen the Oscar-winning animated masterpiece, Inside Out? Of course you have. Remember the core memories and how they created Riley’s personality islands?
I just uncovered one of my very own.
It’s 1996 and I’m in the 5th grade in rural, Central Illinois.
My teacher, we’ll call her Mrs. Dash, arranged a “market day” where we were supposed to bring a product to class to sell with fake money to our classmates.
There was a prize in the end for the person who made the most money. This should have been red flag number one and a terrible lesson to teach young humans. But it gets worse.
I was immediately stressed. What could I possibly sell that these kids would want to buy? And for FAKE money?
I was a 9 yr old little Black girl, the only one in her class per usual at this point, with limited resources (read: Money), almost no mechanical skills, and undiagnosed ADHD.
I couldn’t afford to buy anything, couldn’t stay focused long enough to make something nor did I have a collection of anything I was willing to part with for a “fun” class assignment.
So I sold Kool-Aid! The flavor was “red,” if you’re curious. Naturally, those good ol’ cups of Kool-Aid were a HIT!
Some of the other kids were selling food so we pretty much had the same customer base and business was good!
Now Mrs. Dash tells us that we should also consider “investing” into each other’s companies to increase our potential profit.
This boy, let’s call him Collin, approaches me with a deal. Interest in my company for interest in his. It was something ridiculous like a 33% swap most likely. I was 9, after all, and I was just happy to have a viable Black business in the market!
We were instructed to negotiate, draft, and submit our investment agreements (this is still 5th grade y’all) so she could factor it into our final accounting at the end of the day and select a winner.
So Collin writes it up, we sign and submit it to Mrs. Dash and I continue raking in the Kool-Aid cash!
Fast forward to the end of market day and it’s time for our “accounting” session with Mrs. Dash.
She reads out the total profits for each individual and I notice my profits are much lower than I expected. None of the profits from Collin’s company have been added to my balance but he still got his 33% cut of my company’s profits.
I questioned Mrs. Dash.
She holds up the contract that Collin and I signed. It read: “Ryan will give Collin 33% of her company profits.”
That’s it.
Collin gets 33% of Ryan’s company and Ryan gets…what? To give it to him?! Nothing. “Ryan gets nothing” according to Mrs. Dash.
I was mortified. I told her that wasn’t fair nor what we originally agreed to. She told me she would honor the contract as written and next time I should read “more carefully” before I sign it.
As for the young Collin-izer? He took his prize, and profits, and pretended like that was our agreement the entire time.
It was heartbreaking.
I remember complaining to my mom that even if that’s what the contract said, it still wasn’t fair.
She told me what she always tells me, “Life isn’t fair,” and continued about her day. It was only Kool-Aid, after all.
I know it was fake money and the prize was probably stickers or extra credit I didn’t need. But I still remember how violated and defenseless I felt.
None of us knew what “consideration” was or that a contract written like that would be considered legally invalid on its face and unenforceable in any US court of law then AND now…at least, I hope Mrs. Dash didn’t know that when she gave Collin my money.
But here’s what I “learned” that day in school:
1. “Business,” and the people who do it, are shady. Don’t trust them or become one of them. You won’t be good at it anyway.
2. White boys. Don’t trust them especially!
3. White women. Don’t trust them either. They’ll uphold the white boys’ trickery.
4. Make sure EVERYTHING is in the contract!
5. I am solely responsible for my protection and I cannot depend on others to defend me when I’m being violated or taken advantage of.
As core memories do, these lessons shaped my personality in some unflattering ways, hindered my professional development in many, and protected me in some.
“Perfectionism” island was either established or massively expanded on that day. Also, “Anxiety/Fear” was promoted that day and has spent the next two decades leading daily operations supported mostly by “Anger” who was second in command until very recently.
I’m always asked, “what inspired you to become a lawyer?” I knew I made the decision around the age of 8 or 9 “to help people and fight injustices.” However, I could never pinpoint the exact catalyst for my conviction until I sat down to write and fully unlocked this memory.
At 9 years old, I desperately needed an advocate and didn’t feel like I had one.
So I became her. Literally.
26 years later, I’m a licensed business attorney with my own practice, serving solution-driven & social impact organizations, startups, & entrepreneurs with business formation, contract drafting, and transaction planning services across the state.
I also advocate for kids as the founder of The Texas Greenhouse Project, a social enterprise creating tech-enabled group homes and services for LGBTQ+ kids in foster care.
While these things are considered accomplishments or admirable, I can’t help but wonder who I would have become if someone stood up for me that day in 5th grade. Would I have insisted on only attending an HBCU (historically Black college or university) or been open to PWIs (predominantly white institutions)? Would I have chosen the law at all?
Finding out that you’ve built your life, most of your personality, and your career around the broken heart of the 9-yr old little girl inside you is…startling, to say the least.
But it’s also been beautifully liberating and incredibly validating to explore the sincere place my passion for filling gaps originated.
It’s taken quite a bit of life experience, including a pandemic, years of therapy, and meeting some amazing people, in and outside of the entrepreneurial and corporate worlds, to help me rebuild my trust and unlearn harmful habits over the years.
After spending decades believing I wasn’t cut out for business, revisiting this memory with fresh eyes and a healing heart has confirmed so much for me and reignited my passion for entrepreneurship and business law free of the “lessons” I learned in 5th grade.
Except for lesson #4. Never forget lesson #4, folks.
Keep Going and Growing.
