Security- Johnson-Coles

It’s 5:30 am and it took us about an hour to get there, we were due to board at 8 o’clock. There were seven of us and only two bathrooms. Everyone had to be dressed and ready to eat in a hour and thirty minutes. I can’t remember the last time I got up so early, but that was this morning’s issue. In 2 hours flat I’ve conquered up another issue.

People. So many people. How do you even control such an establishment? People with suitcases and backpacks, all in line waiting for one thing.

Security Checks.

I don’t know why I got so nervous, I didn’t have anything to hide, not anything that might trigger the alarms. I took off my hoodie just in case. I put my side bag and backpack in the bin and waited for my turn.

“Next,” said security.

I held my arms up above my head and spread my legs like the picture showed. Patiently waiting to hear the “clear”. But, I didn’t and my heart started racing. Maybe the machine is broken,  maybe I didn’t have my feet in the right position.

“Step out and then come back in,” the women said.

I stepped inside and mimicked the picture a second time, making sure that I did it exactly. I watched as everyone around me went through the metal detectors. I kept hearing the “clear” over and over again. Patiently waiting for the women to give me my clear.  Instead, I was told to come out and stand on the silhouettes of red feet as the women asked my age and where my guardian was.

“Since she’s under 18, I have to ask your permission to pat her down,” said security.

A pat down? Pat down what? How much could you hide in a T-shirt and tights? The lady explained that my shirt set off the system. I wore an embroidered grey shirt that had the word “Aero” spelled in jewels and glitter. They weren’t even the type of jewels that you could pick off the shirt. I guess the machine had other plans. I never got patted down before and I’ve only seen it happen in the movies. I wasn’t sure what to expect, but by the time the woman was done, I went from being nervous to being irritated. It was almost as if I thought she was going to find something. And of course when she didn’t I felt like the whole process was a waste of everyone's time. My family and I could have already been to the Florida Gate 34 by now.

However, my relief quickly turned back to nervousness as the women came walking towards me with two brown papers in her hands. She swabbed me. My palms were sweaty, I wish she could take retest me. I was frightened because I didn’t know what they were looking for. I didn’t know what type of things could affect the test. I especially couldn’t wrap my 13 year old mind around what “results” they were going to get from wiping paper on my hands. I didn’t know if they were looking for traces of chemicals or testing something completely different. Even at that age my overthinking got the best of me. I tried to slow my heartbeat, thinking that would change the test. Not realizing that a brown paper swab rubbing across my hands could have no correlation with my heart beat. Then I thought about everything that I have touched in the airport. Thinking about that made it worst. I put myself in this guilty position even though I knew I had nothing to hide.  

I didn’t really understand at the time, but people’s jobs have meaning and value. Even the littlest job has a reason for all of it’s tasks. I think about all the horrible plane attacks that have happened over the years. From suicide bombings to gun attacks. As nerve racking and pointless as I thought the checks were I respect that the women took her job seriously. You can not have a truly secure facility if there are special rules for certain people. No matter how simple something could be protocol was made for a reason.