It Could Happen To Your Child, Too: Part 2

I am updating and reposting my post from March 20 here.

The updates:

• My US House Representative Alma Adams has reached out twice to American Airlines on my behalf, and so far, they have not even acknowledged Rep. Adams' requests. 
• When I explain the current situation at the southern US border to my younger children, I use this traumatic example to show my children just how little power parents have over government entities.  
• I also changed the word "crew" to ticket agents to more accurately reflect who did this. 
• I don't know what would have happened had they found that my son or I had done something "improper." I understand this is nowhere near as horrible as what is happening to families at our southern border. Our separation was short-lived. But if you don't think this signals, what COULD happen, you are not paying attention.  
• I've contacted the ACLU and national and local media, but this is/was not story worthy enough.  I still think American parents should know.

It Could Happen To You and Your Child

For Spring break , I took a class of 10 University undergraduates and 1 Graduate student to Prague I also took my 13 year-old son, so he could experience international travel. You can read about what we all learned from being together here.

This post is about what happened on the way home from our Study Abroad trip.  And while I hope I can add some of my typical humor in here, what you might just hear instead is how angrily I am typing on the keyboard.

We flew back from Prague through Heathrow.  When we landed in London, we were greeted by American Airline ticket agents who asked us if we were going to the US.  "Yes!" we said. And they ushered us into a separate room.  At first, I thought maybe this was a separate baggage screening area so that we could quickly move on to our next flight.  But there was nothing quick happening here.  I asked the ticket agent at the door what this was and she told us additional security screening.  I pointed out we had now had about 1 hour and 15 minutes to make it through the "real" screening and make our flight.

A few minutes later, the ticket agent at the front asked for everyone on the 9:45 flight to Charlotte to move forward.  About 50 of the 75 folks in the room moved forward, so not really a lot of progress. But we were close enough that I could hear what was happening. They were quizzing a group of French teenagers where they were going in the US, where they lived in France, what they wanted to be when they grow up.  A middle-aged Indian woman and her much older mother were having a very difficult time understanding and answering questions. OK. I said to the students. This extra screening is for non-Americans traveling to the US. We should breeze right through.

We did not.  And when they started questioning one American about whether his house had a white picket fence around it, I thought, Oh, Sh*t.  How are we going to make our flight?

With one hour to go (and basically 5 people who passed through their questioning later), the American Airlines ticket agent told everyone who had a boarding pass that they could go straight to the gate.

My first reaction was that this was for show.  If they "had" to ask us all of this detailed information, and THEN they told us to skip on through, this was a bullsh*t show of phony security.

Next, we had our baggage screening for our carry-on luggage.  I told everyone that if they got through they should run to the gate and I'd wait around to make sure everyone got through.  Two kids got stuck. My son and I waited for them to finally be approved.  When everything looked clear with about 40 minutes to take off, the students, my son, and I ran across the terminal to the gate.

WHEW!!!!

We were some of the last in line, but WE MADE IT!

It was time to get on the plane. My student, my son, and I handed our boarding passes to the first American Airline ticket agent. They told my student to go straight (I think; things get fuzzy here). They looked at my boarding pass and told me to go to the left. I took a few steps into the left line and I turned around to see what line my son was put in.

And he was gone.

Gone. Missing. Not there. His body was no longer where it was supposed to be in this world. He had disappeared.

I started calling his name.  My student turned around and I told him my son was missing.  My student (6'6" with a very deep and loud voice) started calling his name.  I am not a quiet person at all.  I called his first name.  I called his first and last name. The room was not that big.  Where the HELL could have gone?  Why would he go?

The passengers still waiting in line stared at us.  The ticket agent stared at us.  We called and called his name.  I told another student who had already passed the gate to go on the plane to see if he had sneaked past us.  I told my male student to go on board and I'd stay and wait for my son.

The room was not big.  There were not obstacles to seeing around it.  And yet, my 13 year-old son was disappeared*.

Just writing this makes me want to throw up.

I finally spotted, in a corner of the room, a make-shift space covered by white curtains with an opening.  And there I saw my son, with some of his clothes off, his shoes off, as they were inspecting the inside of his book bag.

I burst into uncontrollable tears.

I found out later that one of the ticket agent with my son said "Oh, Look! That's what mothers do when they are worried about you."  They KNEW I was his mother.  They HEARD me calling for him.  They did NOTHING to let me know where he was. And then they MOCKED me when they saw me crying. ((And yes, he wanted to call back to us, but being the very compliant child he is, he instead asked them if he was going to miss the plane))

I went to him.  He got dressed.  We went to the gate where they asked him what his zipcode was and what middle school he went to while I nearly snapped the head off the gate attendant.

We were the last people on the plane. My students were calling to me across the plane very relieved that we had made it. We sat down and I am pretty sure I began to kiss him. Yeah.  I'm sure he "loved" that and I really don't care.  Three more times during the flight, I broke down in tears and kissed and hugged him.  I'll blame the sleep deprivation that he let me do it.

Even now, right now, writing this, and thinking about it all, I still want to throw up.

We came back and I tweeted to American Airlines.  They first responded with concern and wanted to take care of the situation.

Then they responded again.  And it was less supportive. My son had been chosen for additional screening by a government mandated computer system called CAPPS.  Because we bought our tickets at different times, our tickets were not linked.  Therefore, they were under no obligation to let me know that he was being escorted away for private, additional screening.

SURE!!!!!!!!!!!  13 year-olds FREQUENTLY travel internationally without adult supervision while at the same time random people repeatedly and loudly shout their names at the boarding gate!!! It happens all the time, right!??!?!

OK.

So I have since found out that minors 13 and above can be separated from their parents by TSA.  (By all security???) But still: without the parents' knowledge??? By AIRLINE TICKET AGENTS?  When did they become TSA/NSA/customs and border control agents?

Again, it's one (horrible) thing to search a 13 year old apart from his mother.  It is another to take him without even letting her know that is what you have done.

They took my son away from me without letting me know. GOD! YES! I feel guilty I put my boarding pass ahead of his. What a horrible mother.  Seriously.  But he was Right. Beside. Me.  He was my appendage on this trip.  Why would I think someone would take him from my SIDE?

So a few more thoughts:

*I am using the phrase: "My son was disappeared" purposefully.  If you don't know the meaning of that phrase, read this.  Yes, it was only 10 minutes that authority figures took my minor son from me. But I refuse to think it was normal or moral.
*What about those families who separated by INS at the border here in the US?  There is no difference in motherhood across cultures.  Again, mine was only 10 minutes. I cannot fathom the trauma to these families who are separated for months.
*The ACLU is not a big fan of CAPPS.  Go figure.  CAPPS keeps being suspended and reintroduced. I can't follow the news on it and its Wiki is out of date.  Someone who knows something should fix that.  I think back to that the first room with the excessive quizzing of all passengers (i.e., "does your house have a white picket fence?"). Is that related to some new implementation of CAPPS? I haven't traveled overseas in two years. But this felt really, really weird. I don't know. It seems weird.

What do I want from American Airlines?  I want a better apology than the one saying they were sorry for my frustration at this event. Don't ever apologize for how you made someone feel.  Apologize for what you did.  I also want to make sure this doesn't happen to another family. Don't yank a minor out of a boarding line without asking him/her if they are traveling with someone.  For Pete's fudging sake, it that REALLY a novel idea?

So, yeah.  This happened to me.  It probably won't happen to you.  When I am telling this story to my friends, I see them trying think of the ways they will prevent it from happening to their own children.  It's normal.

But it happened.  It has already happened. So it could happen again.  In this day and age, in this version of America, I wouldn't be so sure it couldn't happen to you, too.

It Could Happen To You and Your Child

For Spring break , I took a class of 10 University undergraduates and 1 Graduate student to Prague I also took my 13 year-old son, so he could experience international travel. You can read about what we all learned from being together here.

This post is about what happened on the way home from our Study Abroad trip.  And while I hope I can add some of my typical humor in here, what you might just hear instead is how angrily I am typing on the keyboard.

We flew back from Prague through Heathrow.  When we landed in London, we were greeted by American Airline crew** who asked us if we were going to the US.  "Yes!" we said. And they ushered us into a separate room.  At first, I thought maybe this was a separate baggage screening area so that we could quickly move on to our next flight.  But there was nothing quick happening here.  I asked the crew** member at the door what this was and she told us additional security screening.  I pointed out we had now had about 1 hour and 15 minutes to make it through the "real" screening and make our flight.

A few minutes later, the crew** at the front asked for everyone on the 9:45 flight to Charlotte to move forward.  About 50 of the 75 folks in the room moved forward, so not really a lot of progress. But we were close enough that I could hear what was happening. They were quizzing a group of French teenagers where they were going in the US, where they lived in France, what they wanted to be when they grow up.  A middle-aged Indian woman and her much older mother were having a very difficult time understanding and answering questions. OK. I said to the students. This extra screening is for non-Americans traveling to the US. We should breeze right through.

We did not.  And when they started questioning one American about whether his house had a white picket fence around it, I thought, Oh, Sh*t.  How are we going to make our flight?

With one hour to go (and basically 5 people who passed through their questioning later), the American Airlines crew** told everyone who had a boarding pass that they could go straight to the gate.

My first reaction was that this was for show.  If they "had" to ask us all of this detailed information, and THEN they told us to skip on through, this was a bullsh*t show of phony security.

Next, we had our baggage screening for our carry-on luggage.  I told everyone that if they got through they should run to the gate and I'd wait around to make sure everyone got through.  Two kids got stuck. My son and I waited for them to finally be approved.  When everything looked clear with about 40 minutes to take off, the students, my son, and I ran across the terminal to the gate.

WHEW!!!!

We were some of the last in line, but WE MADE IT!

It was time to get on the plane. My student, my son, and I handed our boarding passes to the first American Airline crew** member. They told my student to go straight (I think; things get fuzzy here). They looked at my boarding pass and told me to go to the left. I took a few steps into the left line and I turned around to see what line my son was put in.

And he was gone.

Gone. Missing. Not there. His body was no longer where it was supposed to be in this world. He had disappeared.

I started calling his name.  My student turned around and I told him my son was missing.  My student (6'6" with a very deep and loud voice) started calling his name.  I am not a quiet person at all.  I called his first name.  I called his first and last name. The room was not that big.  Where the HELL could have gone?  Why would he go?

The passengers still waiting in line stared at us.  The crew** stared at us.  We called and called his name.  I told another student who had already passed the gate to go on the plane to see if he had sneaked past us.  I told my male student to go on board and I'd stay and wait for my son.

The room was not big.  There were not obstacles to seeing around it.  And yet, my 13 year-old son was disappeared*.

Just writing this makes me want to throw up.

I finally spotted, in a corner of the room, a make-shift space covered by white curtains with an opening.  And there I saw my son, with some of his clothes off, his shoes off, as they were inspecting the inside of his book bag.

I burst into uncontrollable tears.

I found out later that one of the crew** with my son said "Oh, Look! That's what mothers do when they are worried about you."  They KNEW I was his mother.  They HEARD me calling for him.  They did NOTHING to let me know where he was. And then they MOCKED me when they saw me crying. ((And yes, he wanted to call back to us, but being the very compliant child he is, he instead asked them if he was going to miss the plane))

I went to him.  He got dressed.  We went to the gate where they asked him what his zipcode was and what middle school he went to while I nearly snapped the head off the gate attendant.

We were the last people on the plane. My students were calling to me across the plane very relieved that we had made it. We sat down and I am pretty sure I began to kiss him. Yeah.  I'm sure he "loved" that and I really don't care.  Three more times during the flight, I broke down in tears and kissed and hugged him.  I'll blame the sleep deprivation that he let me do it.

Even now, right now, writing this, and thinking about it all, I still want to throw up.

We came back and I tweeted to American Airlines.  They first responded with concern and wanted to take care of the situation.

Then they responded again.  And it was less supportive. My son had been chosen for additional screening by a government mandated computer system called CAPPS.  Because we bought our tickets at different times, our tickets were not linked.  Therefore, they were under no obligation to let me know that he was being escorted away for private, additional screening.

SURE!!!!!!!!!!!  13 year-olds FREQUENTLY travel internationally without adult supervision while at the same time random people repeatedly and loudly shout their names at the boarding gate!!! It happens all the time, right!??!?!

OK.

So I have since found out that minors 13 and above can be separated from their parents by TSA.  (By all security???) But still: without the parents' knowledge??? By AIRLINE Crew**?  When did they become TSA/NSA/customs and border control agents?

Again, it's one (horrible) thing to search a 13 year old apart from his mother.  It is another to take him without even letting her know that is what you have done.

They took my son away from me without letting me know. GOD! YES! I feel guilty I put my boarding pass ahead of his. What a horrible mother.  Seriously.  But he was Right. Beside. Me.  He was my appendage on this trip.  Why would I think someone would take him from my SIDE?

So a few more thoughts:

*I am using the phrase: "My son was disappeared" purposefully.  If you don't know the meaning of that phrase, read this.  Yes, it was only 10 minutes that authority figures took my minor son from me. But I refuse to think it was normal or moral.
*What about those families who separated by INS at the border here in the US?  There is no difference in motherhood across cultures.  Again, mine was only 10 minutes. I cannot fathom the trauma to these families who are separated for months.
*The ACLU is not a big fan of CAPPS.  Go figure.  CAPPS keeps being suspended and reintroduced. I can't follow the news on it and its Wiki is out of date.  Someone who knows something should fix that.  I think back to that the first room with the excessive quizzing of all passengers (i.e., "does your house have a white picket fence?"). Is that related to some new implementation of CAPPS? I haven't traveled overseas in two years. But this felt really, really weird. I don't know. It seems weird.

What do I want from American Airlines?  I want a better apology than the one saying they were sorry for my frustration at this event. Don't ever apologize for how you made someone feel.  Apologize for what you did.  I also want to make sure this doesn't happen to another family. Don't yank a minor out of a boarding line without asking him/her if they are traveling with someone.  For Pete's fudging sake, it that REALLY a novel idea?

So, yeah.  This happened to me.  It probably won't happen to you.  When I am telling this story to my friends, I see them trying think of the ways they will prevent it from happening to their own children.  It's normal.

But it happened.  It has already happened. So it could happen again.  In this day and age, in this version of America, I wouldn't be so sure it couldn't happen to you, too.

**ETA on March 21, 2018: I've been using the wrong terminology.  It was the TICKET AGENTS who did this.  Not the flight crew or the ground crew.  American Airline confirmed to me in their direct message that this additional security was conducted by their employed ticket agents.

Maybe a Dingo Ate Your Baby

In December, we let Patches go.

He was 16 years old (maybe 17) and could not stand up or walk any more.  We carried him up the stairs, down the stairs, outside to pee, and back in to sleep.  He had fecal incontinence which mean he would just poop at anytime, even in his sleep.  He was still "there" but starting to go---barking at the sunlight was one big indicator.  We took him in to the vet for his euthanasia, and he had lost 8 lbs in 4 weeks.  That's not the sign of a healthy dog.

It was time.  We were sad, but he didn't need to suffer any more.

Dave and I decided to wait until the summer to get a new dog. We figured it would be good to take some time off and heal and enjoy the freedom of a dog free life.

Like a fool, I decided during my acute grieving to check out the North Meck and South Charlotte Animal Rescues.  Honestly, I was just looking to feel better and see all the options available when we would be ready.  I looked at many, many dogs and puppies on both sites.  And I felt warm, but not struck-by-lightening in love.

And then I saw this little stinker.

I emailed Dave. He said he thought we were going to wait.  I said ok.  And THEN DAVE MENTIONED THE PUPPY TO BRIDGET!  HA!  Mama ain't no fool!!  I emailed the rescue immediately and started the application process.  Who would break our daughter's heart?  The man who mentioned the puppy but didn't get her!  Not I!!

So we jumped through a few hoops, and we brought home Juliet Eleven Blanchard Dougherty.  Juliet from the detective in Psych (nickname Jules).  Eleven from Stranger Things.  Yes, she is wonderful.

She's sweet. And smart.  And loving.  And a wonderful puppy.

And she hates Fred, the cat.  And she tried to kill a chicken.

YIKES!!!

So Jules is a Carolina Dog. That's the name of her breed.  She is supposedly mixed with a bit of a yellow lab, which I can see when she's hanging around with the pure bred Yellow Lab at Puppy Training Class.  But she's definitely a Carolina Dog.

This does not mean that she hates DOOK.  Unless, Duke is the name of a cat or a chicken. And we didn't really know what a Carolina Dog is except that our neighbor has one, who is sweet and chases cats.  

After the near murder of the chicken, we finally looked up what the Carolina Dog breed is.  Do you want to know what a Carolina Dog is without looking at the wiki?  It's a freaking Native American Dingo.  Yes.  Carolina Dogs are an ancient breed of dogs that came over on the Bering Straight and were the dogs Native Americans had, at least in the Southeast.  Their closest behavioral and genetic relatives are dingoes, in Australia.  Go head.  Say it.

There are a lot of people who say it.

And there are certain characteristics of Carolina Dogs that we absolutely see in Jules.  She will jump like a fox, particularly when then bed covers are not to her liking. She makes odd vocalizations, which to me sound like a very exasperated old man sighing at how lame the rest of us are.  She loves chicken poop, especially when it is frozen and turns into a poopsicle.  She has black eye-liner and black lips.  She is less motivated to learn commands to please us (which was absolutely Patches' motivation) and more motivated to learn to get a snack.  

A DINGO!!!  

Of COURSE, we have a dingo.  We have 13 chickens, two cats, two gerbils, two house rabbits, and a freaking DINGO!  

Aye-eye-eye.

Except, she's a good dog. She's learning the pack rules: don't kill the chickens or bite the cats.  She sleeps at my feet while I'm at my standing desk.  And if I've been too active, she'll lie across my feet to keep me from moving.  She gets on the furniture. And we let her sleep with us.  (Patches would haunt us if he knew that)   

There are times that, yes, I do think we're insane.  And when I say "we," I agree with you, dear reader, as well as my family, and actually mean "I" am insane.  Yeah.  It keeps in interesting.

A dingo.  People: A DINGO!  

I love my little ding-dong dingo!