Annals Of The Police State.....

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An American civil rights lawyer, with Global Entry, still gets tagged 4 times in one by ICE ...

“I'm confiscating this.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re being non-compliant.”

“Pardon? I’ve been cleared three times now. How am I non-compliant?”

“You mocked us for checking your chocolate for explosives.”

“Well, yeah, I mean ... seriously? And you didn’t answer. How was I non-compliant?"

“You’re breaking the law.”

“What? How? Asking a third time. How am I non-compliant? What law have I broken?”

Rather than answering, he walked away. I called out, “I’d like to speak with your supervisor please.”

“He is the supervisor,” one of the other CBP officers responded.

“Then I want to speak to his supervisor,” I shot back.

I asked at least five more times: How, exactly, I was non-compliant?

I knew I was on camera being recorded. Everyone knew. They would have to prove somehow that I hadn’t complied—when in fact I clearly had.

No one answered.

Still, my mind began to wander. What if he doesn’t return my ID card? What if they arrest me? These are the same people who are ripping migrant children from their parents and throwing them in latter-day concentration camps—there’s no telling what they can do to a minority this president has tried to ban from entering the country.

As I sat there and maintained an external calm, inside I was furious that this blatant discrimination and profiling persisted under the guise of “security.”

Finally, a fourth CBP officer approached me, followed by the officer who took my Global Entry card.

"I’m the supervisor on duty. So you think because you have Global Entry you’re exempt from screening?”

“What? No. I said I’ve been screened and cleared three times so far. But despite that, your officer took my Global Entry card and said I’m being non-compliant. And he said that I’ve broken the law. But he refuses to give me any example of non-compliance or cite what law I’ve broken. Please explain this to me.”

The supervisor turned to the confiscating officer and asked, “Why’d you stop him?”

“Well, he was laughing at us.” (It’s true, I did chuckle in disbelief. Guilty as charged.)

“But did he refuse orders?”

“No, I mean, he harassed us.”

I didn’t yell at this point, but I raised my voice. “This is ridiculous. You have the power. You’re detaining me. You have my property. But somehow I’m harassing you? What? Do you hear yourself?”

The defining moment is screwing up a kid's gift, just for the fun of it....

“No,” he snarked. “I need to check your bag again.”

I let out another sigh, but complied.

As I set my bags back on the steel counter, I added, gesturing toward his colleague, “Look, I have Global Entry. This officer checked my things. She cleared me. What’s the issue?”

The second CBP officer didn’t respond. Instead, he opened my bag and took out the chocolate I had brought from London for my children.

“What's this?” he asked, as if he’d never seen chocolate before.

“It’s … chocolate.”

“Where’d you buy it?”

“Heathrow. Here’s the receipt.” (When I’m traveling, I always keep receipts, especially of what I buy at airports, for this very purpose.)

“OK,” he said. “We have to do an explosives check.”

Now I was getting frustrated. “My kids’ chocolate is a matter of national security now?” I asked. “Seriously?”

“I’m opening this chocolate whether you like it or not.”

He proceeded to rip up the chocolate with a pocketknife. Apparently that’s the CBP test for explosives. (Spoiler alert: The chocolate, a bar of Cadbury Dairy Milk, was non-explosive.) I stood there with a blank look on my face.

“OK, you can go,” he finally conceded.

Then he gets nabbed again....