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It has been recently brought to my attention that I seem to mock and disdain many segments of the general population. I was told that I must feel the need to hate others in order to feel better about myself. To which I promptly replied that I hate it when people play armchair psychologist. It's not that I hate people, I just hate the things they say and do. It's nothing personal, it's just their personalities. America's Finest Recently I went to San Bernardino for the Smoke Out concert, presenting such acts as Cypress Hill, De La Soul, Fishbone, KRS-1, Long Beach Dub Allstars, and Gangstarr. On our way up, we were stopped at the immigration checkpoint. Usually, only perfectly legal Latinos get harassed by the immigration folks, but the guards were obviously informed about the show and told to be on the lookout for attendees possibly carrying.. what? drugs, weapons, illegal immigrants? Why else would three people who have never, ever been previously stopped at the checkpoint be stopped this time? Rather than waving us through as usual, they motioned us to roll down the window. "Where are you guys headed today?" San Bernardino, Jason said. "What's in San Bernardino for you?" A concert. The guard then asked the same questions to me and Issac. And then, "Are you transporting any illegal aliens? Carrying any illegal immigration documents? Carrying any drugs? Again, three times. Did they see a glint of anxiety or twitchy nervousness in us? We were pulled into secondary. Jason's truck has a covered bed. They had him get out to open up the back, presumably to check for the hidden aliens or keys of marijuana or illegal firearms we might be taking to a concert. Through the rear window of the truck I could see two officers on either side of him, with stern looks on their faces. Jason was emoting rather wildly, and looked nervous and angry. I was afraid he would say or do something that would lead to our indefinite detainment. This is the kind of irrational fear uniformed authority breeds. Where the innocent are made to feel guilty, where my rights could be violated and I'm concerned about not provoking or inconveniencing them. Then they saw our backpacks, carrying our overnight items. What was in them? Could they search through them? Jason was hesitant, and replied that he was unsure of his rights in this circumstance. The guard did not then inform him of those rights, but repeated, "I'm asking you if we can search the bags." And my boy shot right back, "Well, then, no." And we were free to leave. These officers tried to have their way with us by using a familiar police technique - intimidation. In a flagrant abuse of authority, they tried to trick us, in a very real sense, into giving up our rights. Most people, especially those not carrying illegal substances, would be very anxious or afraid of disallowing police or immigration officials to search through their belongings. Most people are unaware that this is a violation of their rights. It is unlawful for police to search through your personal belongings without a warrant or probable cause, neither of which applied in our case. They simply ask to look through your bags, and their uniforms, power, authority, and intimidation coerce you into cooperation, when it is your right to refuse. We were three pretty normal looking young people heading to a concert. Because that concert just happened to be called "Smoke Out," because it just happened to have a lot of hip hop artists on the bill, because we looked perhaps a little disheveled, because we had this truck with a covered bed, because Issac was wearing a beanie cap, for all these innocuous reasons we were stereotyped, singled out, and harassed. I cannot claim to understand what it's like to be Latino and have to deal with this injustice with every checkpoint crossing. But I can empathize a little more now. Copyright 10/99 Jennifer Chung. Check your rights at the door.