Soapbox: 9-11 vs. Columbine
Back in September, I flew from Indiana to New Jersey to attend my grandfather's funeral. It wasn't the first time I had ever been in a plane, and not the first time since 9-11. This time, though, I encountered the airline industry's still-rampant paranoia for the first time.
Passing through security, I was told that my airline had singled me out as a potential security risk. Apparently I fit some sort of profile somewhere; "Male, age fourteen to dead, facial hair, not smiling" is the best I can figure. The fact that I also look about as harmless as a puppy was probably interpreted as a clever attempt at misdirection.
A polite - almost apologetic, in fact - security guard took me to a small enclosure and ran me through the procedure. Other travelers passed by (no doubt thanking their lucky stars they weren't me) as I handed over my boarding pass, driver's license, overnight bag, boots and belt. A metal detector was produced and run over my body, beeping only at the rivets on my jeans. I was obviously not a threat.
As I sat in the terminal, an older gentleman sat down near me. "Horrible, isn't it," he said.
"What?"
"Horrible," he repeated, "this paranoia, I mean. I saw them checking you out. I know they're doing their job, but it's going too far."
We chatted for a bit, and as we spoke an idea began to form in my head. For me, the search had been inconvenient, yes, but also not totally unexpected. But for this man of twice my years, it was an outrage, a sign of civilization's downward spiral.
Why the discrepancy? Why was my inconvenience his outrage?
Let me take you back a few years.
Before 9-11, before Al-Qaeda and the Taliban were household names, my generation had its own terrorists. It seemed to us that scarcely a month went by without reports of some kid bringing a gun to school and opening fire on his fellow students. Sometimes it was for revenge, sometimes it was to speak out, sometimes it was because he wanted the notoriety.
Parents blamed angry music, violent video games, and anything else they didn't approve of. Maybe they were right, and maybe not - I'm certainly not qualified to pass any judgment on id Software or Marilyn Manson. It didn't make much difference, though, because the shootings kept happening despite (or maybe because of) all the noise being made about Protecting the Children.
People ask: where were you when Kennedy was shot? Where were you when the Berlin Wall fell? Where were you on 9-11?
Where were you on April 20th, 1999?
I was a Junior at Columbia City (Indiana) High School that spring. It had been a quiet year for us, though we heard the occasional echo of a gunshot fired at some other school. The idea seemed so foreign. Yes, there was the occasional fight. Yes, there was the occasional angry comment about wanting to blow the place up. But these were normal - students had been doing these things for years.
At CCHS, 4-20 was best known for its notoriety as a skip day. It was the day when all the stoners (and, I have no doubt, the stoner-wannabes) stayed home to smoke pot ("Dude! 4-20!")
That's changed, now, as so many other things have changed since that day. Because April 20th, 1999 was the day Columbine happened.
Now, I don't know why Eric Harris and Dylan Klebold did what they did. I'm not qualified to speculate on a matter that's been analyzed and over-analyzed and beaten to death by so many "experts." All I know is the facts: that two students took guns and bombs to school and killed 12 classmates, a teacher, and themselves.
And, in doing so, they changed our schools - maybe forever.
Within weeks, security cameras were keeping an unblinking eye on all the main halls at CCHS. Doors that had once remained open were closed and locked during school hours. Police officers were seen in and around the school. Rumors circulated that metal detectors were going to be installed at the main entrances (they never were).
Other, more Orwellian changes took place. Any outburst of anger (which was only natural under the circumstances) was seen as a "warning sign" to be noted and watched. So-called "outsider" groups were labeled "potential threats." There was even talk of banning trenchcoats - a garment that was worn by such a minority of students that such a ban could only have made them more prevalent.
I'm told by others of my age that these changes, this shift toward fear and paranoia, were not atypical.
I don't blame the administration for this. They did the best they could in a bad situation. Faced with the terrified screams of parents and politicians (and, yes, some of the students), they took just about the only course of action they could.
Nevertheless, many of my generation felt more like prisoners than students.
Is it any wonder that young people are not as concerned about the increased fear and paranoia caused by the attacks of the last four years? Is it surprising that we are more likely to shrug off a violation of our privacy as mere caution? We're used to this now - and it's only getting worse.
Right now, children who weren't even alive when students were dying in Littleton are learning to accept paranoia and fear of the other as normal, healthy, even desirable. They've never attended schools that don't treat them like prisoners, a potential threat to be dealt with. They don't know that society doesn't have to be afraid of its own shadow.
Harris and Klebold had more of an effect than they ever dreamed of, because even though they didn't kill as many people as they wanted to, even though they themselves perished, they opened the door. They made it possible to teach our children to be afraid in their own schools. And when those children grow up, those lessons will remain. We're already on a slippery slope, folks, and the state of our schools just makes it that much harder to keep our footing.
Benjamin Franklin said that "those who are willing to sacrifice liberty for security deserve neither."
That's one quote you won't find in a high school history book.
Passing through security, I was told that my airline had singled me out as a potential security risk. Apparently I fit some sort of profile somewhere; "Male, age fourteen to dead, facial hair, not smiling" is the best I can figure. The fact that I also look about as harmless as a puppy was probably interpreted as a clever attempt at misdirection.
A polite - almost apologetic, in fact - security guard took me to a small enclosure and ran me through the procedure. Other travelers passed by (no doubt thanking their lucky stars they weren't me) as I handed over my boarding pass, driver's license, overnight bag, boots and belt. A metal detector was produced and run over my body, beeping only at the rivets on my jeans. I was obviously not a threat.
As I sat in the terminal, an older gentleman sat down near me. "Horrible, isn't it," he said.
"What?"
"Horrible," he repeated, "this paranoia, I mean. I saw them checking you out. I know they're doing their job, but it's going too far."
We chatted for a bit, and as we spoke an idea began to form in my head. For me, the search had been inconvenient, yes, but also not totally unexpected. But for this man of twice my years, it was an outrage, a sign of civilization's downward spiral.
Why the discrepancy? Why was my inconvenience his outrage?
Let me take you back a few years.
Before 9-11, before Al-Qaeda and the Taliban were household names, my generation had its own terrorists. It seemed to us that scarcely a month went by without reports of some kid bringing a gun to school and opening fire on his fellow students. Sometimes it was for revenge, sometimes it was to speak out, sometimes it was because he wanted the notoriety.
Parents blamed angry music, violent video games, and anything else they didn't approve of. Maybe they were right, and maybe not - I'm certainly not qualified to pass any judgment on id Software or Marilyn Manson. It didn't make much difference, though, because the shootings kept happening despite (or maybe because of) all the noise being made about Protecting the Children.
People ask: where were you when Kennedy was shot? Where were you when the Berlin Wall fell? Where were you on 9-11?
Where were you on April 20th, 1999?
I was a Junior at Columbia City (Indiana) High School that spring. It had been a quiet year for us, though we heard the occasional echo of a gunshot fired at some other school. The idea seemed so foreign. Yes, there was the occasional fight. Yes, there was the occasional angry comment about wanting to blow the place up. But these were normal - students had been doing these things for years.
At CCHS, 4-20 was best known for its notoriety as a skip day. It was the day when all the stoners (and, I have no doubt, the stoner-wannabes) stayed home to smoke pot ("Dude! 4-20!")
That's changed, now, as so many other things have changed since that day. Because April 20th, 1999 was the day Columbine happened.
Now, I don't know why Eric Harris and Dylan Klebold did what they did. I'm not qualified to speculate on a matter that's been analyzed and over-analyzed and beaten to death by so many "experts." All I know is the facts: that two students took guns and bombs to school and killed 12 classmates, a teacher, and themselves.
And, in doing so, they changed our schools - maybe forever.
Within weeks, security cameras were keeping an unblinking eye on all the main halls at CCHS. Doors that had once remained open were closed and locked during school hours. Police officers were seen in and around the school. Rumors circulated that metal detectors were going to be installed at the main entrances (they never were).
Other, more Orwellian changes took place. Any outburst of anger (which was only natural under the circumstances) was seen as a "warning sign" to be noted and watched. So-called "outsider" groups were labeled "potential threats." There was even talk of banning trenchcoats - a garment that was worn by such a minority of students that such a ban could only have made them more prevalent.
I'm told by others of my age that these changes, this shift toward fear and paranoia, were not atypical.
I don't blame the administration for this. They did the best they could in a bad situation. Faced with the terrified screams of parents and politicians (and, yes, some of the students), they took just about the only course of action they could.
Nevertheless, many of my generation felt more like prisoners than students.
Is it any wonder that young people are not as concerned about the increased fear and paranoia caused by the attacks of the last four years? Is it surprising that we are more likely to shrug off a violation of our privacy as mere caution? We're used to this now - and it's only getting worse.
Right now, children who weren't even alive when students were dying in Littleton are learning to accept paranoia and fear of the other as normal, healthy, even desirable. They've never attended schools that don't treat them like prisoners, a potential threat to be dealt with. They don't know that society doesn't have to be afraid of its own shadow.
Harris and Klebold had more of an effect than they ever dreamed of, because even though they didn't kill as many people as they wanted to, even though they themselves perished, they opened the door. They made it possible to teach our children to be afraid in their own schools. And when those children grow up, those lessons will remain. We're already on a slippery slope, folks, and the state of our schools just makes it that much harder to keep our footing.
Benjamin Franklin said that "those who are willing to sacrifice liberty for security deserve neither."
That's one quote you won't find in a high school history book.
posted by Danny Beans at 3:43 PM
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