Home > Blog >

America at the border

By Ari | Sep 29, 08 11:32 AM

I believe in the power of the positive. Instead of griping about the problems around me I prefer to find or create positive alternatives. So, instead of posting photos of slaughterhouses and detailing the horrors of animal industry, and saying I'm "fighting against cruelty", or that I'm "anti-speciesist", I try to show good vegan alternatives and successful pro-animal activism, and to use terms like "cruelty-free" and "peace and love vegan".

I also believe that instead of spending all of our time trying to fix what's broken, a more positive and productive alternative is to create a beautiful new system that folks are excited by, that inspires hope, and which they'll then want to be a part of. So, instead of trying to reform the government, it might be more useful to create mutual aid networks, free community clinics, free public kitchens, and other things that people really need, and which they can become part of, reducing their dependence on the profit-driven messes that currently drive America.

But now I'm afraid that perhaps the U.S. is too far along its path to destruction and oppression to allow time for a new world to be built in the cracks of the old. I just read Republican and Democratic Congress Members Sound the Alarm: Tyranny is Here, a blog post with some links in it that point to some very scary possibilities: Flu pandemic followed by martial law, the suspension of the Constitution, the government being shot down in favor of a bona-fide dictatorship. Capitalists' and warlords' time is nearly at an end; the people are waking up. But they're still powerful, and if their past record is any indication, they won't go out without a fight.

Reading this post, I remembered an experience Shira and I had at U.S. border control, back in July. We're both U.S. citizens, born and bred. We'd just come from an idyllic, incredible retreat (click for photos) at Wasan Island with our friends at freeDimensional, and were traveling with a dear new friend from Germany. Our bus moved through Canada toward the U.S. border and I began to feel fear. I always feel fear around authority figures with guns, call me crazy. So we neared the border, which was the most brilliantly-lit thing for miles around, a huge industrial-looking series of buildings and equipment and fences with many large threatening-looking signs that said things about how the border patrol would treat us with respect, all very 1984. Even seeing the words "Homeland Security" felt creepy; those words have never made me feel secure.

They made us all get off the bus and put our luggage out for an inspection, and herded us into a big building where we all stood around quietly, shuffling and occasionally whispering to each other. It was not a safe-feeling place. The men who guarded it all had guns, and other weapons, and looked us over appraisingly; their faces were not friendly and their words were not comforting. They gave curt orders and barely communicated with us otherwise. The whole atmosphere was very tense.

They searched our bags first, making us put them up on a table and going through them all. I noticed one guard talking to a couple of young dudes of Asian descent, giving them a really hard time because their bags were so small. "Where did you go? You were there that long and this is all you had? Where are your other clothes? Why didn't you pack more? Who did you talk to while you were there?" They didn't seem to believe anything the guys said. They treated them with outright disrespect. The two young guys had stayed with friends and gone swimming; they seemed very nice - and very quiet, and very compliant, and a little afraid. I was afraid, too, for them. I remember feeling it wasn't right that they were being treated like that, but I was afraid to say anything to anyone about it, or even to watch.

We all had to go up to little counters one at a time to speak with the border control officers; they looked at our passports and waved Shira and I by very quickly and easily with just a couple of questions. Our German friend took longer to get through. Others took even longer. I don't even know if everyone made it back on the bus.

As we drove away from the border, I felt a sense of relief. I also felt deeply embarrassed that this was my country, that my friends on the bus had to deal with such disrespect, that all of us had had to pass through such a creepy and ugly place. I felt ashamed that I had felt so powerless, so afraid, and that my own country had created this experience. Out of what? Fear of terrorists? Those kids coming back from their swimming trip weren't dangerous, they were kids. They should have been greeted warmly, not questioned like they were criminals. It made me feel like my country was a police state, a dictatorship, a place where citizen and visitor alike have no assurance of safety and freedom.

I recount all of this because, well, I hadn't ever expressed it before, and I want it out there on the interwebs. I want to say that I disagree. I want to say I want no borders. I want my country to be a welcoming and beautiful place that makes people feel safe and happy. I want others to be able to work and study and settle here free of harassment. I want to be able to come and go freely and safely. And I don't believe terrorists are going to be stopped by this bullshit at the border. It punishes us all every day, this loss of freedom - and we all know that if terrorists want in, they'll find a way, and no amount of bullying busriders is going to stop them from it. I'm more afraid of my own government than I am of the "terrorist threat" that they're using to take away my rights and freedom.

Is the future ours? Can we create a new world if those who are running this one have all the power - and are willing to use it to keep us from creating our peaceful alternatives by force? How can we break free? Will Obama be enough to begin to change the system, or is he too little too late? Will the socialists and other progressives ever stop in-fighting and reacting long enough to make positive, peaceful change in the here and now? Someone make me feel more hopeful!

More: Human Rights | Oppression

Archives