Wednesday, September 16, 2015

Requiem for Ahmed

Back in May 2001, my family flew out to my aunt’s wedding in Southern California.  We decided to bring her and her new husband a wall clock as a wedding present.  When my dad put the clock through the X-ray machine in security, a buzzer went off.  The guard carried the clock, still in its wrapping paper and audibly ticking, over to a table on the side.

The following conversation ensued:

Security Guard: What’s that?
Dad: A clock.
Security Guard: Oh, OK. Have a nice trip
Dad: Thanks. (Retrieves clock).

These were different times, of course, and I wouldn’t blame a security guard today for actually checking to make sure that the loud ticking device about to get on a plane was just a clock.  (I wouldn’t have blamed them then, either. Of course, this was back when airport security was the stuff of Paul Blart: Mall Cop, and the guy who waved us through was probably tired from having to work security at The Vet the night before just to pay his rent.)

That said, there’s a big difference between making someone unwrap a present and treating anyone with an electronic device you don’t recognize as a criminal.  It’s bad enough when the people who can’t tell the difference work airport security; when they staff our schools, it’s a recipe for disaster.

The arrest of Ahmed Mohamed, a 14-year-old Texas student who brought a clock mistaken for a bomb to school, reveals so many of our nation’s pathologies that it’s hard to know where to start.  Racism.  Xenophobia.  Our immediate impulse to involve the police in the lives of juveniles.  (Particularly black and brown juveniles—see the first two items on this list).  Throw in clueless, blundering bureaucrats who refuse to apologize because THEPOLICYMUSTBEFOLLOWED, our poor science education system—really, no one could tell the difference between a bomb and a clock?—and the State of Texas while we’re at it.

But if this incident is going to lead to a National Conversation or Teachable Moment or somesuch, I hope that we at least consider the damage that more than a decade of post-9/11 paranoia has visited on all aspects of our lives. 

Yes, this problem is intertwined with the others: our paranoia has a peculiar way of oozing out just a little bit more when brown people are involved.  But this goes beyond just racism and xenophobia.  Over the last 14 years, we have allowed our public institutions to become more closed off, more secretive, and more distrustful of us, the very people for whom they exist, all for the illusory promise of safety.

And to what end?  Are we really safer?  In the air, probably a bit, though I’ll leave that judgment to the experts.  In other aspects of our lives?  I sort of doubt it.  The level of security required to achieve appreciable gains in safety on public buses or trains or in schools or stadiums is more than the vast majority of us would accept.

And so we end up with low-level bureaucrats at a school in Texas, who know their job is to keep kids “safe” (whatever that means) and notice something “suspicious” (whatever that means) and decide to write with the freedom of a 14-year-old kid on the blank check we’ve handed them.


I don’t know what’s sadder: the fact that someone thought locking up Ahmed Mohamed would make America safer or the fact that, given the world Ahmed’s grown up in, he probably shouldn’t have been surprised.