I was taken in by one of the oldest tricks in history. In the spirit of “no good deed goes unpunished,” I was robbed of hard-earned monies through a combination of writing flattery and low self-esteem. The curtain rose on this drama when my ego was stroked by the invitation to edit research material for a seminar on racism. It made sense during a pandemic year that saw the birth of Black Lives Matter. Racism seemed like an interesting and news-worthy subject--something a college-educated audience might discuss and debate in a summer school seminar. Racial incidents involving Blacks and law enforcement had tarnished the national scene, their convenient timeliness suckering me in even further. How had “Jennifer,” my client, located me? That too made sense. She had consulted the directory of the American Society of Journalists and Authors, a national organization to which I belonged. Jennifer first contacted me by email, which is normal when you're a freelance writer. So this too did not raise any of the normal skepticism that anonymous mail might cause. She explained in broken English what her project was. She was organizing a seminar on systemic racism at a New England college. Could I edit her research materials into a more accessible format so that she could have them translated into various languages? I remember worrying if she had plagiarized some of the content since it lacked attribution. But I reasoned that paraphrasing the material and disguising her style and syntax would work to prevent plagiarism while preserving the content. I hurried to finish the editing to accommodate her schedule. Caution and logic, however, had not completely deserted me. Before I began the project, I insisted on payment in full with a bank check. Jennifer agreed and the deal was officially struck. No contract, just a verbal agreement via email. After the check landed in my snail mail, everything began falling apart. Jennifer took too little interest in my rewrite and too much interest in how swiftly I could complete the assignment. Yet now that I had the money I had less reason to doubt her sincerity or honesty. After all a bank check is as good as gold, right? The strange part was that the bank check was for a larger sum than the fee we had agreed upon. In a trifecta of naivete, low self-esteem, and avarice I thought that perhaps Jennifer hadn't realized how much work the rewrite had entailed and was rewarding me with a bonus. Turns out I was dead wrong in more ways than one. Jennifer called and told me to send the extra monies to her in several U.S. postal mail orders. I began to get suspicious then, but when you're in the midst of an assignment, you concentrate on satisfying the client, not judging her. Then she threw in the clincher that she needed the monies quickly because her father had recently passed away from COVID and funeral expenses were high. I expressed my condolences. So far I was willing to follow her directions since the pandemic was at its height, and Jennifer sounded both sad and troubled by the supposed death of her father. In the end and through a convoluted series of bank transactions and mail orders, I ended up losing not only the $1,500 fee she had promised but also around $3,000. In hindsight it seemed ridiculous that a grown woman of more than average intelligence fell for such a preposterous story. But the situation had turned into a perfect storm. It appealed to vanity--that of the many competent authors in ASJA, Jennifer had selected me—and my desire to add another academic notch to my writing credits. When her excuses for forwarding my owed monies became lamer and lamer, I realized I had been hooked like a great white whale. The bank where I had first cashed her check now told me the check was bad. She had mustered enough logistical strength to reel me in. And then she just died. Yes, Jennifer literally died, at least according to her boyfriend, who reported to me that she had become infected with COVID. By that time anger had eclipsed any desire on my part to reframe this experience as the sad joke it really was. Naturally I never heard from the boyfriend again, and all the googling in the world did not yield results when the names were fake. Scams like this are met with a smirk and shrug by the police, so I chalked it up to a growth experience. It was my first real scam, and it taught me a good lesson. This week when I was approached by another scammer about my so-called $350 purchase of a three-year contract for Norton Security System, it didn't take but 10 minutes to uncover the deceit. The giveaway was when the scammer tried to convince me I had mistakenly credited his account for $3,500 instead of $350. I shelved my anger and congratulated myself on my newfound knowledge of scam artists. I was finally in the right place at the right time. My skepticism had reached epic proportions and I took out my furor by castigating the felon for his scurrilous trickery.

My heart used to pound at the thought of seeing them, my face would burn bright red and I would quickly lose my train of thought, I had ideas trapped in my head with no way to release them into the world, no way to bring them to life and let them control me. I wasn't quite sure if I have the right to feel or keep these thoughts in my frozen brain, everyone is looking at me waiting for my words to be told, I wasn't sure if they are ready to hear them but positive whispers get close to my ears telling me how unique my topic is, and even if my words hurt the truth must always be accepted by everyone. I was hoping to inspire my peers and take advantage of every second in every moment because we need every inch in life. I'm walking to the podium on the stage in the big room, my hands fluttering the papers clenched tightly between my fists, my voice shook and the words start coming out silently, slowly, and then perfectly. People actually care to know what I had to say except the haters"THE GROUP". The Group was there my heart starts to pull up, their eyes were directed to me and the speech was made for them, yes today is the day no more fear anymore. My memories start coming to my head, as they were recorded scene after another, how they used to bully other students, how they loved the idea of being the best RICH group in High school, a group where their requests considered as orders, no rejection no detention no restriction, We were stuck in their Crystal Maze. I started seeing and feeling the scene when I was studying so hard to get good grades, while the glitterati was having parties and leisure without bothering themselves to study anything because they are already in a straight A+ team no judgment no inquiry and no objection. And the saddest scene was when I was checking their Instagram and see how they were squandering money and traveling wherever they want with a huge amount of delicious food. I literally cried when I have seen this, especially when I have been tagged with an embarrassing naming. #Here's How Money BUYS You Happiness (WEIRDO NERD). looked in the sky and with an immersed tears I said: "Why money goes to this kind of people, isn't money made for those who need it, aren't we suppose to use it in an appropriate way, am I wrong as usual, I'm not saying give it to me God, I just wish that poor people get what they really deserve. I have never complained about anything God, I have always accepted all my struggles, problems, and the idea of not having parents or this amazing life, why them not someone else?" Yes, my speech was a bunch of harsh memories but the good thing is that I get used to it, because I'm finally graduating and I have learned a lot of beautiful lessons. The only thing I regret is the way I talked to God about stupid things, that I thought it is going to bring me happiness. I started giving my last words, suddenly something has sparked my interest, it was actually a girl who was crying during my speech, I realized that she was a reflection of my feelings and my thoughts that I was too afraid to say too blind to notice that world is listening and too deaf to hear my own voice. I wanted to end this speech but after seeing her I knew that she was a victim of self-esteem problems because of some stupid people; so I decided to go for some additional spiritual words that were not in my speech. I wanted to remind them all, that we can shake mountains with our minds by sharing our ideas to change the world into a better place where everyone is equal. because I believe that every individual has a valuable opinion but it takes Drive and Confidence to express it. These were my last words in High school where I finally had the chance to express and release what had always made me sad and uncomfortable. After one year, 2020 had knocked our doors, I finally went to college, at the beginning we all thought that it is going to be another perfect year full of success and happiness where we will see same people traveling, celebrating, and working to get more. but life, as usual, keeps surprising us with a long rest from humans, but no one knows till when... Last month I got horrible news from my friend, she told me that the RICH GROUP that used to bully us, is in the hospital right now and Adam had died, and the reason is one of their friends gets affected by the virus and he transmitted the infection to everyone in the group. I did not know what to say whether to feel sad or happy about what happened to them, but the day when they have tagged me to see how much money can bring happiness was one of the toughest moments that I have experienced in my life? A great lesson had been taught that day because I've realized that nothing lasts forever and no matter what can money bring, always put hope in other things as they say: "a small leap of faith has made all the difference". ask yourself this question always: It is right that money brings happiness but TILL WHEN?