I paused. She didn’t know where I work, which is a place of extreme security. Security and safety have been drilled into me since the day I started the job. I walk through a secured entry zone exactly like the airport: body scanner, laptop out, metal off body. My office is locked every night, I never leave my computer during the day without my “token” jump drive, and every morning I key in three distinctly different passwords to get to my email. It is, indeed, very secure.
Rewind to a year ago when I worked at the state legislature: there was very, very limited security. I had moments when I worried for my safety. Angry constituents can be frightening, and there were certainly a set of anti-government/constitutionalist types who hung around. In my work around women’s issues, a small portion of our office’s agenda surrounded custody issues. More than one jilted and angry parent took their anger out via email, several directed toward my office and suffice it to say it was less than polite. I was always conscious of how easy it would be for a slightly deranged person to just walk right in the building and into my office.
So, for me, high security is about safety and I am grateful for it. Yet I do see how the flip side of security can be paranoia. It is unlikely that someone would have actually come in with the intent to harm me. But it is possible And I regret to say: now more than ever it is possible.
I’m reminded of a scene in the movie A Few Good Men. Tom Cruise plays the prosecuting attorney who is trying to take down a big, ground-in, old school military general for some illegal activity that took place in Guantanamo Bay. (Yes, this is the movie where Jack Nicholas screams out “You can’t HANDLE the truth!” from the witness chair.) There is a scene where Tom Cruise is debating the case with his co-counsel, Demi Moore (and how I wish I could give you the character names, but alas). She’s defending some of the activity that took place; challenging (Tom Cruise) on his stance. He’s annoyed and frustrated and he says something like “Why do you like these guys so much? How can you stand this?” and she responds, “because they’re the guys who stand out there every day and protect us; they put their life on the line so we can be safe.” (it’s really written much more powerfully but you get the idea).
I come back to this story when I think of safety, security – and yes, even the military in general. I’ve been thinking about the US military this weekend because of Veteran’s Day; reflecting on the service of friends and family members now and in the past. I confess, I am ambivalent about my feelings on the military as an institution. Part of it is because of our “tough guy” stance in the international community. But I also know enough to know there are many layers to the equation, many I am unaware of, and I do feel grateful for the protection. I appreciate the willingness of many good women and men to stand in harm’s way so I can live a stable, peaceful and full life.
There’s a lot there, right? Like why do I need to feel protected? How much of my own dependence is wrapped up in all of this? And how does the international political scene and our own U.S. foreign policy perpetuate the resources we expend under the guise of “safety” and protection?
I don’t know the answers but I find myself back to feelings I expressed on my 9/11 post near the beginning of this blog. I have issues with the institutions of our country (and often our world), but I have unwavering belief in people, individuals and community. I’m grateful to those who sacrifice and serve; I’m grateful to individuals who look out for my personal safety. It’s distressing that a need for heightened security is part of the world we live in. But I’ll do the daily body scan in exchange for knowing I am safe.
