Dec. 29th, 2003 11:44 pm
(no subject)
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razorjakThank heavens she didn't have an almanac on her
Coffee, Tea or Handcuffs?
An Australian journalist gets a taste of Department of Homeland Security
hospitality
by Steven Mikulan
Sue Smethurst enjoys traveling. "It's one of the things about my job that I
absolutely love," says the 30-year-old Australian, who works as an associate
editor for the women's magazine New Idea. She doesn't even mind flying.
"It's one of the great pleasures of the world to be able to turn off your cell
phone and be where no one can annoy you."
But when her Qantas flight from Melbourne, Australia, touched down at LAX
around 8 a.m. on Friday, November 14, Smethurst found herself nightmarishly
annoyed - by the Department of Homeland Security (DHS). Smethurst was
supposed to continue to New York and on Monday interview singer Olivia
Newton-John. Smethurst had honeymooned in Manhattan last year and was
looking forward to a long, free weekend "having a good walk through Central
Park, getting a decent bowl of chicken soup and going Christmas shopping -
all those gorgeous New York things." Better still, her six-hour layover in
L.A. would allow her to have lunch with her American literary agent.
"I had a room booked at the Airport Hilton, where I was going to my leave
bags, shower and get a cup of coffee."
But first she had to clear LAX's immigration check-in, which she reached
after 20 minutes in line. An officer from the DHS's newly minted Customs and
Border Protection (CBP) bureau studied the traveler's declaration form
Smethurst had filled out on the plane.
"Oh, you're a journalist," he noted. "What are you here for?"
"I'm interviewing Olivia Newton-John," Smethurst replied.
"That's nice," the official said, impressed. "What's the article about?"
"Breast cancer."
When Smethurst tells me this, she pauses and adds, "I thought that last
question was a little odd, but figured everything's different now in America
and it was fine." What she didn't know was that her assignment and travel
plans, along with the chicken soup and stroll through Central Park, had been
terminated the moment she confirmed she was a journalist. Fourteen hours
later, she was escorted by three armed guards onto the 11 p.m. Qantas flight
home.
"I want to say right off that I adore America and love Americans," Smethurst
says. Still, she remains perplexed and emotionally bruised by what followed
in Terminal Four. The CBP agent who read Smethurst's traveler's
questionnaire took her to a secondary inspection area 30 feet away and told
her to wait, then left for half an hour. He returned with additional
uniformed staff who, professionally and pleasantly enough, asked more
questions.
What sort of stories did she write? What kind of magazine was New Idea?
Where was it published? What was its circulation? Does it print politically
sensitive articles? When would her interview appear? Who would be reading
it?
"I laughed," Smethurst recalls, "because we're a cross between Good
Housekeeping and People magazine. The most political thing we'd likely print
was Laura Bush's horoscope."
The polite interrogation continued. Who was her father? His occupation? Her
mother's maiden name and occupation? What were their dates of birth, where
did they live?
The agents gravely nodded at Smethurst's replies and left once more,
promising to return. When they came back half an hour later, one of the
officers offered Smethurst a cup of airport coffee.
"I thought at that stage something was quite wrong," Smethurst says, "so I
asked the man with the coffee if there was some problem."
"I will tell you when there's a problem," he abruptly snapped, according to
Smethurst. Then he pointed to a nearby sign:
Your Silence Is Appreciated
At about noon, CBP informed Smethurst she would be denied entrée into the
United States: While Australian tourists visiting the United States are
visa-waived for 90 days, working journalists need a special I-Visa, which
Smethurst had not been aware of and did not possess. She had, after all,
flown into LAX on the same passport eight times previously without incident.
Now she was being asked to raise her right hand and swear that her answers
had been truthful, then was fingerprinted and photographed - every time she
comes to America, her swiped passport will bring up this documentation of
her rejection. As Smethurst's inked fingers were rolled onto the government
form, she noticed its heading:
"Criminal."
Eventually she was escorted under armed guard to a pay phone to make the
call she vainly believed would clear everything up and allow her to stay in
the country. Then, while conversations were occurring among her husband,
editor and consul officers in L.A., Smethurst's baggage was thoroughly
searched and a makeup bag temporarily confiscated. She was then handcuffed
and marched through the airport to another terminal, where LAX's main
detention center is located.
After the phone call she pleaded for food, having now been away from home
nearly 24 hours. Smethurst offered money for a snack to be brought to her -
French fries, potato chips, anything - but was refused.
"Would it be possible to get a cup of tea?" she asked. This too was denied,
because it could be used as a weapon - someone, it was explained, had
recently thrown hot coffee into an agent's face. When she requested a cup of
cold tea, she was similarly refused, although no one could explain to her
how a cup of cold water could become weaponized.
Finally, around 6 p.m., a "detention meal" was pulled from a fridge,
consisting of an orange, fruit-box drink and a roll that, Smethurst says, "I
could play golf with."
For a while she sat in the main detention center, unable to eat the food, as
eight armed guards watched TV. Then one of the staff returned with a bag of
takeout and began eating a hamburger and fries in front of her.
"At that stage," she says, "I just lost the plot completely and threw the
roll into the bin in front of me with sheer, utter frustration."
The CBP would later call this gesture a "tantrum"; Smethurst, in turn,
claims that she was thoroughly body searched by female staff each time she
was moved from one part of LAX to another, and that she broke down in tears
several times, swearing to her captors that she was not a criminal, had done
nothing wrong and should be allowed in the country. She also says one
sympathetic staff member told her she'd simply had bad luck in getting the
agent she did at the first customs station, since the I-Visa rule was
enforced at the discretion of agents. Smethurst could have entered the
country by simply declaring herself a tourist on her traveler's form - a
routine practice among reporters entering the U.S.
Eventually, Smethurst's release was won by the Consul General's Office. The
consulate also gained one other concession - the cup of tea she'd begged
for. It was prepared by a senior CBP official whom Smethurst thought was the
kindest American she'd met that day.
"It was the best cup of tea I'd ever had," she says. "I didn't waste a
drop."
There is, naturally, an official version that differs from Sue Smethurst's
description of the events that day, but a spokesman for the Homeland
Security Department's Customs and Border Protection bureau said he did not
want to "spend time on he-said, she-said charges."
"She did become abusive," CBP spokesperson Michael Fleming told me, however.
"We tried to calm her down. Handcuffing is a standard procedure because
sometimes good people can do potentially violent things. It's not our intent
to parade passengers on a perp walk - Sue Smethurst is not a criminal. It's
important for journalists to know to enter the U.S. on assignment they
cannot apply under the visa-waiver program. They have to do their homework."
When Smethurst returned to Melbourne, camera crews were waiting - all major
Australian media outlets reported her ordeal. The story was treated as an
example of bureaucratic arrogance run amok, because many parts of the world
are still outraged by what happens at American airports to foreigners - and
to many Americans. (Last September, the CBP at LAX detained the
Australian-born wife of a U.S. Navy sailor for five days, while also briefly
denying her infant daughter food and medical attention.) Smethurst says she'
s received hundreds of messages from fellow Australians claiming similar
treatment at the hands of U.S. immigration officials and knows of two fellow
journalists who were sent back to Australia. When Smethurst's editor, who
planned to visit the United States on business, inquired about obtaining an
I-Visa, she was told it would not be necessary. She is going to get one
anyway.
Smethurst says U.S. ambassador Tom Schaeffer privately apologized to her for
her treatment, but will not do so in public. Not that it matters much - the
only U.S. press coverage of Smethurst's ordeal was found in an Atlanta
Constitution squib culled from the Australian Associated Press. Before
November 14, she and her husband had planned to return to America to
celebrate their one-year wedding anniversary, but, as she learned,
everything's different now in America.
"We decided to stay in Australia and celebrate here," she says. "There was
always the chance we could have got the same customs officer if we flew to
America."
_______________________________________________
Pip Wilson
Wilson's Almanac free daily ezine
http://www.wilsonsalmanac.com
Wilson's Blogmanac
http://wilsonsalmanac.blogspot.com
An Australian journalist gets a taste of Department of Homeland Security
hospitality
by Steven Mikulan
Sue Smethurst enjoys traveling. "It's one of the things about my job that I
absolutely love," says the 30-year-old Australian, who works as an associate
editor for the women's magazine New Idea. She doesn't even mind flying.
"It's one of the great pleasures of the world to be able to turn off your cell
phone and be where no one can annoy you."
But when her Qantas flight from Melbourne, Australia, touched down at LAX
around 8 a.m. on Friday, November 14, Smethurst found herself nightmarishly
annoyed - by the Department of Homeland Security (DHS). Smethurst was
supposed to continue to New York and on Monday interview singer Olivia
Newton-John. Smethurst had honeymooned in Manhattan last year and was
looking forward to a long, free weekend "having a good walk through Central
Park, getting a decent bowl of chicken soup and going Christmas shopping -
all those gorgeous New York things." Better still, her six-hour layover in
L.A. would allow her to have lunch with her American literary agent.
"I had a room booked at the Airport Hilton, where I was going to my leave
bags, shower and get a cup of coffee."
But first she had to clear LAX's immigration check-in, which she reached
after 20 minutes in line. An officer from the DHS's newly minted Customs and
Border Protection (CBP) bureau studied the traveler's declaration form
Smethurst had filled out on the plane.
"Oh, you're a journalist," he noted. "What are you here for?"
"I'm interviewing Olivia Newton-John," Smethurst replied.
"That's nice," the official said, impressed. "What's the article about?"
"Breast cancer."
When Smethurst tells me this, she pauses and adds, "I thought that last
question was a little odd, but figured everything's different now in America
and it was fine." What she didn't know was that her assignment and travel
plans, along with the chicken soup and stroll through Central Park, had been
terminated the moment she confirmed she was a journalist. Fourteen hours
later, she was escorted by three armed guards onto the 11 p.m. Qantas flight
home.
"I want to say right off that I adore America and love Americans," Smethurst
says. Still, she remains perplexed and emotionally bruised by what followed
in Terminal Four. The CBP agent who read Smethurst's traveler's
questionnaire took her to a secondary inspection area 30 feet away and told
her to wait, then left for half an hour. He returned with additional
uniformed staff who, professionally and pleasantly enough, asked more
questions.
What sort of stories did she write? What kind of magazine was New Idea?
Where was it published? What was its circulation? Does it print politically
sensitive articles? When would her interview appear? Who would be reading
it?
"I laughed," Smethurst recalls, "because we're a cross between Good
Housekeeping and People magazine. The most political thing we'd likely print
was Laura Bush's horoscope."
The polite interrogation continued. Who was her father? His occupation? Her
mother's maiden name and occupation? What were their dates of birth, where
did they live?
The agents gravely nodded at Smethurst's replies and left once more,
promising to return. When they came back half an hour later, one of the
officers offered Smethurst a cup of airport coffee.
"I thought at that stage something was quite wrong," Smethurst says, "so I
asked the man with the coffee if there was some problem."
"I will tell you when there's a problem," he abruptly snapped, according to
Smethurst. Then he pointed to a nearby sign:
Your Silence Is Appreciated
At about noon, CBP informed Smethurst she would be denied entrée into the
United States: While Australian tourists visiting the United States are
visa-waived for 90 days, working journalists need a special I-Visa, which
Smethurst had not been aware of and did not possess. She had, after all,
flown into LAX on the same passport eight times previously without incident.
Now she was being asked to raise her right hand and swear that her answers
had been truthful, then was fingerprinted and photographed - every time she
comes to America, her swiped passport will bring up this documentation of
her rejection. As Smethurst's inked fingers were rolled onto the government
form, she noticed its heading:
"Criminal."
Eventually she was escorted under armed guard to a pay phone to make the
call she vainly believed would clear everything up and allow her to stay in
the country. Then, while conversations were occurring among her husband,
editor and consul officers in L.A., Smethurst's baggage was thoroughly
searched and a makeup bag temporarily confiscated. She was then handcuffed
and marched through the airport to another terminal, where LAX's main
detention center is located.
After the phone call she pleaded for food, having now been away from home
nearly 24 hours. Smethurst offered money for a snack to be brought to her -
French fries, potato chips, anything - but was refused.
"Would it be possible to get a cup of tea?" she asked. This too was denied,
because it could be used as a weapon - someone, it was explained, had
recently thrown hot coffee into an agent's face. When she requested a cup of
cold tea, she was similarly refused, although no one could explain to her
how a cup of cold water could become weaponized.
Finally, around 6 p.m., a "detention meal" was pulled from a fridge,
consisting of an orange, fruit-box drink and a roll that, Smethurst says, "I
could play golf with."
For a while she sat in the main detention center, unable to eat the food, as
eight armed guards watched TV. Then one of the staff returned with a bag of
takeout and began eating a hamburger and fries in front of her.
"At that stage," she says, "I just lost the plot completely and threw the
roll into the bin in front of me with sheer, utter frustration."
The CBP would later call this gesture a "tantrum"; Smethurst, in turn,
claims that she was thoroughly body searched by female staff each time she
was moved from one part of LAX to another, and that she broke down in tears
several times, swearing to her captors that she was not a criminal, had done
nothing wrong and should be allowed in the country. She also says one
sympathetic staff member told her she'd simply had bad luck in getting the
agent she did at the first customs station, since the I-Visa rule was
enforced at the discretion of agents. Smethurst could have entered the
country by simply declaring herself a tourist on her traveler's form - a
routine practice among reporters entering the U.S.
Eventually, Smethurst's release was won by the Consul General's Office. The
consulate also gained one other concession - the cup of tea she'd begged
for. It was prepared by a senior CBP official whom Smethurst thought was the
kindest American she'd met that day.
"It was the best cup of tea I'd ever had," she says. "I didn't waste a
drop."
There is, naturally, an official version that differs from Sue Smethurst's
description of the events that day, but a spokesman for the Homeland
Security Department's Customs and Border Protection bureau said he did not
want to "spend time on he-said, she-said charges."
"She did become abusive," CBP spokesperson Michael Fleming told me, however.
"We tried to calm her down. Handcuffing is a standard procedure because
sometimes good people can do potentially violent things. It's not our intent
to parade passengers on a perp walk - Sue Smethurst is not a criminal. It's
important for journalists to know to enter the U.S. on assignment they
cannot apply under the visa-waiver program. They have to do their homework."
When Smethurst returned to Melbourne, camera crews were waiting - all major
Australian media outlets reported her ordeal. The story was treated as an
example of bureaucratic arrogance run amok, because many parts of the world
are still outraged by what happens at American airports to foreigners - and
to many Americans. (Last September, the CBP at LAX detained the
Australian-born wife of a U.S. Navy sailor for five days, while also briefly
denying her infant daughter food and medical attention.) Smethurst says she'
s received hundreds of messages from fellow Australians claiming similar
treatment at the hands of U.S. immigration officials and knows of two fellow
journalists who were sent back to Australia. When Smethurst's editor, who
planned to visit the United States on business, inquired about obtaining an
I-Visa, she was told it would not be necessary. She is going to get one
anyway.
Smethurst says U.S. ambassador Tom Schaeffer privately apologized to her for
her treatment, but will not do so in public. Not that it matters much - the
only U.S. press coverage of Smethurst's ordeal was found in an Atlanta
Constitution squib culled from the Australian Associated Press. Before
November 14, she and her husband had planned to return to America to
celebrate their one-year wedding anniversary, but, as she learned,
everything's different now in America.
"We decided to stay in Australia and celebrate here," she says. "There was
always the chance we could have got the same customs officer if we flew to
America."
_______________________________________________
Pip Wilson
Wilson's Almanac free daily ezine
http://www.wilsonsalmanac.com
Wilson's Blogmanac
http://wilsonsalmanac.blogspot.com
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
They almost didn't let me return from Canada after SynthPopGoesTheWorld - US immigration stopped meb efore I could board the plane in Toronto and gave me a reasonably thorough shakedown because I did not have a passport on me and they had changed the rules over what they accepted as proof of citizenship between Convergence in Montreal 4 weeks earlier and SPGtW in Toronto.
Ironically I got lucky - most likely because the reason I didn't have my passport is it had been sent in for expedited renewal and not returned within the promised 4 to 6 week timeframe. I suspect the fact it was being processed or had recently been processed showed up on screen.
One one hand - never expect a tourist visa will hold any water if you tell someone you are entering a country to do business.
On the other hand, for a nation that allows illegal immigrants from Mexico and Latin America to roam the streets freely, we sure are paying a lot of money to harass the wrong people at airports.
no subject
That's the thing ... it'd be different if it was across the board. It wouldn't be BETTER mind you ... but it'd be at least a different order of suck.
I swear we're ( ie the current ASSministration ) just trying to make it so we have absolutely NO allies left in the world.
no subject
I really don't know what to say to this.
M and I got the third degree going down to Detroit to visit Joy last weekend - "How much US money do you have? How much Cdn money do you have? Where do you work? How long have you worked there for? When are you expected back at work?"
Joy got interrogated going *back into her own damn country* after driving us to the train station in Windsor.
Has everyone gone insane down there?
no subject
We've been insane since Dec 2000 when we allowed the Supreme Court to appoint that asshat as the puppet for this Banana Republic.
We'll continue being insane until this entire administration of liars and murderers is put up against a wall, executed and their heads placed on a wall of pikes as a warning to future generations.
So ... going to help me find an apartment when I move up there next year?
no subject