That is, it’s illegal if you look like a terrorist.
Being a Ballard resident, the Ballard Locks seemed like the best available subject for my project. I knew I’d be able to set up my tripod and work under fairly consistent conditions. Having spoken with the park ranger in charge of the facility on Monday, I also knew that I had every legal right to photograph from that location. So, I went to the Ballard Locks, in the rain, found the best location I could, and waited for passing trains and boats.
Within about thirty minutes of my setting up my tripod I noticed a lone security officer coming down the hill to ask me a few questions. Well, no…that’s not exactly accurate. He wasn’t politely asking me questions. He’d accessorized his ensemble with a ninety-pound German Shepherd, and was talking at me in authoritative and degrading tones. He wanted me to know that he was an authority.
[…]
I gave the cop my ID, and it was quickly whisked away by one officer to the top of the hill. I went on to express my sense of helplessness, shame, humiliation and anger about the confrontation. I insisted that I was a photography student and that I had done absolutely nothing wrong. I acknowledged my constitutional rights. I pointed to curious bystanders, and pointed out that they had cameras, but that none of the police were interested in them. I identified a man with a canvas and easel, standing directly underneath the train bridge, and asked why no one was asking him for his ID. In retrospect, I realize that I still wanted someone to say it to my face.
The police officer had failed to rebut my arguments, but he was definitely being a lot nicer now (which was quite welcome). He’d been explaining how the SPD are required to investigate all calls, which I said I understood, but I was still looking for some real accountability. That’s when one of the three non-uniformed men stepped forward, brandishing his badge, and began talking at me with his own rendition of the voice of absolute authority.
“I’ve listened to this for over five minutes. Look here. You see this?” Special Agent McNamara said, producing his badge. “This is a federal badge. We’re not with the rest of them. We’’re federal agents from Homeland Security…”
Meanwhile, of course, many other people — residents and tourists alike — are happily snapping photographs of the locks. But then, they’re not dark-skinned, so they don’t look like terrorists, and are safe.
This kind of crap is absolutely ludicrous. It’s exactly the kind of behavior that Bush and company are encouraging with stunts like Ridge’s recent “there’s a threat, but we don’t know what, where, or when, but it’s dangerous, but we’re not raising the alert level, but something could happen to somebody somewhere” stunt. And it’s so disturbingly close to Gestapo-style “let me see your papers” policing that it frightens and saddens me.
In some sense, I’m lucky, as a fair-skinned, red-haired caucasian. Much of the racial profiling that has become so apparently popular these days, I’m never going to have to deal directly with. But that doesn’t mean that I don’t see it, it doesn’t mean that I’m not upset by it, and it certainly doesn’t mean that I’m about to turn a blind eye to it.
(via Arcterex, Boing Boing, seattle.metroblogging, and others)
