Shawna Malvini Redden - 101 Pat-Downs: An Undercover Look at Airport Security and the TSA

As a road warrior myself, I appreciated Shawna Malvini Reddens lively 101 Pat-Downs and its keen observations about our current form of security theatre and how people on either side of that power dynamic react to and evolve because of it. I appreciated Malvini Reddens focus on the fact that we have rights when we fl y, and we can take actions to protect and report violations of them.

Elisa Camahort Page, coauthor of Road Map for Revolutionaries: Resistance, Activism, and Advocacy for All

An exemplar of in-depth organizational research and a must-read for all frequent travelers, this book provides a behind-the-scenes picture of one of Americas most despised government agenciesthe Transportation Security Administration.

Sarah J. Tracy, author of Qualitative Research Methods: Collecting Evidence, Crafting Analysis, Communicating Impact

Shawna Malvini Redden

Potomac Books

An imprint of the University of Nebraska Press

2021 by Shawna Malvini Redden

Cover designed by University of Nebraska Press; cover background art alice-photo / Shutterstock.com.

All rights reserved. Potomac Books is an imprint of the University of Nebraska Press.

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Names: Redden, Shawna Malvini, author.

Title: 101 pat-downs: an undercover look at airport security and the TSA / Shawna Malvini Redden.

Other titles: One hundred one pat downs: an undercover look at airport security and the Transportation Security Administration

Description: Lincoln: Potomac Books, an imprint of the University of Nebraska Press, 2021. | Includes bibliographical references and index.

Identifiers: LCCN 2020038639

ISBN 9781640123625 (Hardback)

ISBN 9781640124622 (ePub)

ISBN 9781640124646 ( PDF )

Subjects: LCSH : Aeronautics, CommercialSecurity measures. | Aeronautics, CommercialPassenger trafficSecurity measures. | AirportsSecurity measures. | AirportsManagement. | AirportsEmployeesSafety measures. | TerrorismPrevention.

Classification: LCC TL 725.3. S 44 R 44 2021 | DDC 363.28/760973dc23

LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2020038639

The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.

For my Marm, who taught me to love books.

And for Tim. Because I promised warbirds, didnt I?

Extreme gratitude to everyone who helped make this book possiblefirst and foremost, the officers, travelers, and crewmembers who shared their stories. Thank you for trusting me and letting me experience your world.

Huge thanks to my agent, Jessica Alvarez of BookEnds Literary, for believing in this project and supporting me.

Gratitude to the editorial team at the University of Nebraska Press for bringing this book into the world. Deep thanks to Sandy Crump for her expert editing.

Love and appreciation to my support system: My family, especially my husband, Tim (aka #Review2Husband), the best, most brutal editor on earth; Marm and Brenda for believing I can do anything; Jeanne for being my enthusiastic champion, wine unicorn, and cheerful editor; Geeta for reasons, especially your wisdom, daily check-ins, and cheese appreciation; Amy for listening, understanding (everything), and always making me laugh; Katie for being the best writing buddy for life; Elizabeth for your friendship and spectacular suggestions, especially for being the first to say, This sounds like a book; Mandy for the book day ice cream delivery, without which I couldve never persevered; and Kristin for shouting, FIFI ! at regular intervals. And all of the people Im sure Im forgetting.

Special appreciation to friend and mentor Dr. Sarah Tracy, for your cheerful support, for giving me the tools to make this research journey possible, and for tolerating my TSA talk for the last decade.

Thanks also to my students at Sacramento State University, who have cheered me on during the whole book process and not complained (too much) when it took me awhile to grade their papers.

August 16, 2009.

Maam, do you know why I pulled you over?

Tears streaming, I blubber, No. Panic-wiping snot from my nose, I fumble for my license and registration. Was I speeding?

No. You made an illegal U-turn.

Are those not allowed here? I choke out.

He explains that U-turns are fine, except in front of big signs with the U-turn symbol crossed out in red, like the one in front of the police station where I am now stopped.

I burst into fresh tears.

Surveying my California documents, he asks where I live.

I dont know! I wail. And it is true. Having relocated to Mesa, Arizona, from Sacramento only twenty-five hours before, sans smartphonemy Blackberry 8320 doesnt have GPS or a maps appIve been trying to find my apartment for hours.

Maam, have you been drinking?

When I can speak coherently, I explain that the puffy, bloodshot eyes are because I just dropped my fianc off at the airport and dont know when I will see him again. I share that Im starting a doctoral program at Arizona State tomorrow, that I moved to Arizona yesterday and cant remember my address, only that my apartment is somewhere on Gilbert Avenue. I admit that Ive been trying to get home from the airport, driving in an unfamiliar city at night, for two hours now.

As the story tumbles out, the officer realizes I am distraught, not drunk. After some reassurance, he lets me go with a warning and gives me directions to my new homeon this same street, but twenty-five minutes in the opposite direction.

Thus was the beginning of my new life in the desert, one where Id be separated from my home, almost-husband, and dog for several years. One filled with travel and textbooks. But one where Id never again get lost on my way home from the airport.

I had no way of knowing then that the airport would become so central to my lifethat I would spend many thousands of dollars and years investigating it. That I would get to know its employees and its characters personally. And that at least one visit to the airport would end with a near-death experience.

But Im getting ahead of myself. Let me go back to my first momentous airport experience, the last time someone walked me right up to the gate for a flight.

September 2000.

I was eighteen years old and flying by myself for the first time.

The phone had rung at 6:00 a.m. the day before, shattering the predawn silence in the apartment I shared with my dad and stepmom in a suburb of Sacramento, California. Dripping wet from the shower, Id run to grab the phone from its cradle in the kitchen to spare the rest of the household an excessively early wake-up call.

It was my best friend Heather on the line, offering me admission to the same small liberal arts college she was attending. Really. No joke. Heather worked in the development department at her school, Union College, and had convinced the recruiters that they needed me. The financial aid and admission details would be worked out when I arrived, she said. A dorm room and roommate awaited two doors down from hers. There was even a free plane ticket available. I just had to agree and hop on a plane to Lincoln, Nebraska, the next day.

For various financial and family reasons, I was not planning to attend college like the rest of my friends, despite graduating near the top of my class, with scholarships and honors. Instead, I was toiling as a file clerk in the dank basement of a financial planners office. In what I think back on as my best, most risky decision ever, I quit my job, applied for a credit card, and started packing. I had no money and no real plan, just a burning desire to escape the drudgery of my dead-end job.