Liz Eacmen
Stories (1/0)
And Justice for Most
Things were different. I remember not long ago when I could walk into a public school building with nothing impeding my entrance aside from the occasional student not aware of their surroundings, probably listening to their headphones way too loud to notice anyone around them. That was the Before Times, before politicians lost control of society, and elected officials that changed every thread in the tapestry of the United States. It was like someone took Lady Liberty’s torch and gave her a semi-automatic weapon, installed facial recognition on every tine on her tiara and erased Emma Lazarus’s words and outlawed The New Colossus from having autonomy over her own body. As I clutched my shoulder bag ready to go through the detectors that searched for metals, organic materials and minerals, I had a twinge of fear that I had left my half pack of cigarettes in my bag from the day before. I assuaged myself by realizing the necessary pre-work cigarette was smoked in the car on the way to work. I handed my bag to the surly security guard, I never knew his name because he only spoke in grunts and eye rolls. His name tag was always turned around so I couldn’t see his name or his position. I had always just assumed a generic security guard with no real name or personality. Just a gun and a grunt. In the Before Times, the school security was effective, cordial, and a part of the patchwork of the teaching staff. Now they were outsourced through defense companies. They were efficient, but not friendly.
By Liz Eacmen3 years ago in Humans