Walking into a building that was as tiny as a bug, my stomach started to feel uneasy. As I looked around at the security guards watching every move I made, I knew this would be the hardest goodbye. The uncomfortable chairs, silent tv, and unbearable smell of coffee were NOT helping either. As we approached my brother, he softly said to us, “I’ve been here since 5:30 and they said my flight won’t leave until 2:30, but I get TSA Precheck because I’m in the military.” “Does that mean WE have to stay here until 2:30?” I asked unenthusiastically. “Yes, but don’t you wanna spend time with your AWESOME brother before he leaves for 4 months?” he responded sarcastically. A couple of hours had passed of watching the quiet tv and a frequent “BEEP!!”
brother: however, her brother is on a trip and should be back anytime now. She hopes
“What time should we leave? Two hours in advance? Three? Four?” Millions of people ask these questions each year before boarding a plane. Between driving, security, walking to the gate, and getting settled, boarding a plane exhausts travelers. But out of all of these different activities, one frustrates and restrains travelers the most: TSA security. People ask why they need all this security, complain about the inconvenience it causes, and ultimately annoys people to no end. Created after 9/11, Transportation Security Administration, or TSA, nationalized airport security, increased screening duration, and supposedly increases security on flights. However, statistics say these added security measures never come to fruition and potentially cost more lives than they save.
“Oooo… that sounds like fun! I'll have to make sure I’m not doing anything though. I’ll check tonight.” I exclaimed in a fake demeanor. Nick responded, “Okay,
Jeffrey Rosen, of the Washington Post, writes a great article regarding the needs of safety when weighed against personal freedoms. “The TSA is invasive, annoying - and Unconstitutional” does well in explaining that the courts do acknowledge that there is a public safety need for certain searches at the airport. It also go on to show that people, when given the choice, are more opposed to pat-down searches than they are with the “naked” scanners of the TSA. These searches, however, do not limit the peoples’ right to procedural due process. The article go on to compare the TSA’s screening methods, with that of the Netherlands. It points to advances in “blob” screening, as opposed to the “naked” scanners the TSA uses. The “blob” scanners do provide more false positives, but as technology improves, so will these minimally invasive scanners (The TSA is invasive, annoying - and unconstitutional. 2010).
I had never seen such affection and care as I did from my family. After all the goodbyes, we made our way into the airport. I held on tight to my rolling suitcase as I walked to my future and I will never forget the love and support that stood there weeping. After waiting in the airport for over two hours, the plane finally arrived. I was sitting in my airplane seat slowly anticipating to see my mom that I hadn’t seen for six years. I remember the first day that I came to America. Getting out of that airplane exhausted and not being able t o walk because I had been sitting in the plane for 24 hours. I was in the Phoenix airport, looking around nervously in a peculiar place filled with strange people. But, the moment I saw my Mom and my family, I was serene once again.
Formed by Public Law 107–71 on November 19, 2001 a mere two months after the coordinated attacks of September 11th, the Transportation Security Agency (TSA) is an organization charged with maintaining security of the nation’s transportation system. Originally structured under the Department of Transportation (DOT) and later under the Department of Homeland Security (DHS) the TSA is responsible for the security of civil aviation to include research and design as well as other modes of transportation that are governed by the DOT (Public Law 107–71, 2001). Aviation facility screening and security can be directly provided and supervised by the TSA or privately contracted in accordance with §44919 (Public Law 107–71, 2001).
“Beep, beep, beep” was all I heard as I stood under the metal detector. I stood there with a wide-eyed gaze in shock; my face must have been priceless. That can’t possibly be me, right? I stood there like a deer in headlights as the TSA officer approached me. “We are going to pat you down, okay? Is there anything that you are concealing?” I shook my head “no.” I knew exactly why it went off on me – my belt. I should’ve known to remove it before passing through the metal detector, but while waiting in the line to get cleared and get carry-ons checked, I remember dreading taking off my shoes, jewelry, and anything that had metal. Because it’s so annoying to take them off for nearly 30 seconds to pass through the metal detector, and then reapply them; it’s a waste of time. Wanting to save time, I asked the TSA officer a brilliant question: “Do I need to take off my belt?” “No”, the TSA officer responded. So, I didn’t remove my belt which led me to this predicament ‒ embarrassed and mortified. I was a 15-year-old girl; I wasn’t a criminal; I wasn’t a threat, nor was I
“Airport Security.” Opposing Viewpoints Online Collection. Detroit: Gale, 2013. Opposing Viewpoints in Context. Web. 13 January. 2014.
As our plane landed at LaGuardia airport in New York City and we walked out into the terminal through the long dark and narrow jet way, the first glances made all of us aware we were not at home. I was on a school trip along with 29 other classmates and six chaperones, 36 people who were used to the calmness of the peaceful town in St. Michael, MN. The facility was outrageously filthy with trash barrels completely overflowing and the floor looked as if it had not been mopped for weeks. The endless amount of loud people scattered everywhere throughout the airport made it difficult to walk without running into the person in front or beside you.
The heart begins racing the moment the car pulls into the airport parking lot. The smell of jet fuel, automobile exhaust, and hot tarmac combine to assault the senses with images of exotic escapes and the kind of freedom that can only come from airports. I feel the thrum of the engines at takeoff and the vibration of the plane during the flight in my skin. I see people listening to MP3s and playing video games. I hear the couple behind me chatting about the weather in Florida and the possibility of rain. I recognize the smell of fading perfume that women are wearing. Chanel, Windsong and White Diamonds clash with the smell of popcorn and Quizno sandwiches.
My heart was pounding as I boarded my flight leaving the Bangkok International Airport. A flight attendant in a grey dress with a red bow draped over her shoulder announced; “Welcome aboard flight AA350 to the United States.” My journey began that day.
When I was seven years old I went on my very first holiday abroad, to
Upon entering the Ontario Airport, we glided around with a confidence that was unparalleled. Between the three of us we had been here more times then we could care to count. The noise enveloped us, but we took it in stride, coasting up the escalator out of the ever watchful eye of the parents who had brought us there. We were officially on our own. We shed our excess baggage, including jackets, wallets, phones, and keys and subjected them to the scrutiny of the hawkeyed airport security. Their doubtful glances could not sway the vibrancy we had been endowed with by merely accomplishing a feat such as this on our own merit. We were on top of the world ready to take off. As we passed through unscathed, sliding back into our belongings, including ...
“Flight 208 to Los Angeles is now boarding. Section N you may now take your seats”. You looked down at your carry-on bag to make sure you have everything packed up, even though you took nothing out, and headed toward the flight attendant and handed her your ticket. As your walking through the tunnel, the sound of the planes jets put just enough pressure on your body, causing your pulse to increase. “Why are you nervous, you been on planes before”, you ask yourself. You shake your head and start to inhale and before you could finish getting your lungs to the maximum capacity they could hold, a man wearing a white shirt twice his size and jeans that also seemed
In the summer of 2004 my dream of visiting New York came to life. I could hardly contain my excitement to finally live the life of a New Yorker, even if it would only be for a couple of days. The plane ride itself was torture, because of my bubbling anticipation to get to my destination. Once the captain announced the descent into the New York airport my stomach became a bundle of knots. The arrival into the city was everything I had hoped it would be. My husband and I, of course, had trouble finding our way around JFK airport. We couldn't figure out the place that we were supposed to go to get our baggage. My husband and I and everyone from our plane ended up going outside of the airport to gain access to another part of the airport. Eventually things got cleared up and we found our terminal where our luggage was supposed to be. Finally after about a half an hour of being in the airport we figured out how to maneuver ourselves through the airport. As if we had passed our first test we...