We are not Trayvon Martin. In flying into the U.S. just before Christmas my wife, a well-dressed white woman with short(ish) blonde hair was chosen out of the customs line randomly for a full customs inspection. In the inspection room we found ourselves alongside a half-dozen African and South Asian men who were having every item of their luggage pulled out and inspected. We, however, had a suitcase full of nicely wrapped presents. The kindly inspector asked us what was in the boxes and we responded ‘books’, ‘clothes’ and things for friends and family. She then told us we could zip up the luggage and wished us a Merry Christmas.
We were ashamed as we shuffled past the harassed racially-profiled people who were not facing the same ‘light touch’ as us.