Last week's cover story about an illegal pyramid scheme
aimed at women ("
Sisterhood Scam")
generated a stream of voicemails, e-mails and letters from
around the country. Some were more, shall we say, "validating"
than others. Over the past week I have been called a Nazi,
accused of betraying women and told to go to hell.
There was the good:
"Excellent article! I sell real estate in the Boise
area and was surprised to learn from a sales associate
that she had been contacted by another agent to attend
a similar type of dinner party. What was really shocking
to learn is that the females that purportedly attended
were primarily educated, middle-class women that you would
think had enough sense to know this was a scam."
The bad:
"I'm not a lesbian. I'm not a WASP, whatever the hell
that is. I am involved in the group. I have been birthdayed.
I'm a foster parent and I've given thousands of dollars
to women's shelters.... What have you ever done for people?
Shame on you--being a woman printing something like this.
I don't know why you have to get involved and [try to]
ruin it for everyone. But you won't, because we're going
to stick together."
And the poignant:
"After much soul searching and many sleepless nights,
I have decided to remove myself from the sister-betraying
scam. I have tried my best to trace the money I gifted
and have determined that it seemed to have revolved around
through the hands of several women. I am not worried about
losing it, only about the money [of the girls] that I
brought in. The responsibility of it all weighs very heavily
on my heart."
The one thing the story didn't do was shut down the so-called
"dinner parties." At least not yet.
According to one member, there was a party in Vancouver
Friday night that drew about 65 attendees. The room was
abuzz with conversations about the WW story and
subsequent media attention and what it would do to the
dinner party.
According to the woman, who does not wish to be named,
"They went on and on about women power and how the media
is just trying to scare us." She says attendees were told
"not to let 'them' put us down, that it's all a big lie."
This woman bought a half-spot into the group for $2,500
in December and was due to receive $20,000. After the
story broke, however, she became convinced the group is
an illegal pyramid. Over the weekend, she says, she approached
the woman to whom she "gifted" the $2,500 and asked for
a refund. The woman, while sympathetic, said she didn't
have it anymore.
"I feel like the biggest idiot," she says. "I've never
done anything like this in my life. I just got so caught
up in it."
She was drawn in, she says, by the spiel, which focused
on feminine solidarity and empowerment. "The thing that
appealed to me is that they said they would really like
you to donate some of it to charity. I really liked that."
She had plans, she says, to give money to her sister,
to take a friend's daughter to Disneyland.
Now she feels as if she has been deceived, and she is
disillusioned and angry.
She's not alone.
The woman says the volunteer monitor who is in charge
of maintaining the group's progress is giving up her post
because of the 40-some calls a day she has been receiving
from nervous participants.
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Willamette Week | originally
published January 26,
2000
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