The Banned Items
Sijia Zheng (12-4)
Photographed by Theo Wyss-Flamm (12-4)
On the first few days of this school year, it quickly became apparent that something had changed. Students entering the building, expecting a swift tap-in and a high five or a handshake, were instead bombarded by a line that twisted all the way to Room 103. Every few people that passed, the metal detector would beep or a bag would be searched. One by one, students’ hazardous and not-so-eminently hazardous possessions were being taken from them.
Reactions to the severity of these new regulations were generally negative. “How far can they take it? Oh no, my pencils are really sharp. Glasses have glass. Hydroflasks!” Emma Martin-Zimmerman (12-3) and Bernadette Fink (12-2) joked before getting more serious: “Criminalization of students isn’t going to prevent violence.” Others find it more of a minor inconvenience: “It kinda [stinks] because I wasn’t going to do anything with the fork, except eat my lunch, but then I had to use a spork,” said Sophia Willis (12-4).
Although it seemed abrupt, the rigor of the implementation of the rules regarding banned objects was actually a gradual transition since last school year. In March 2019, the School District of Philadelphia Board voted 7-2 to mandate the use of metal detectors at schools, despite counterarguments that it would create environments of mistrust towards students. Metal detectors were first introduced to Philadelphia schools in 1992, after a shooting at South Philadelphia High School. This time, the timing of the decision was convenient: SLA, one of the three schools left in the district that did not mandate security checks, was planning to move to Ben Franklin High School, a school that did mandate them.
Masterman was not one of the schools listed that didn’t comply with the use of metal detectors. Even so, “It was brought to my attention- or it had been said [by the School District office] downtown, that Masterman students have gotten away with things that other schools don’t; it’s not fair,” explained Officer Taylor, who sits at his front desk in the entrance hallway during a lunch break. He makes eye contact with a student passing by, waves, and calls: “Take care, bud!”, before bringing out a white basket, about the size of a thick math textbook, filled with sharp objects that have accumulated within a month since the start of the school year. “It was yours, and now it’s mine. You shouldn’t have it. And that is that,” he says matter-of-factly.
Having worked at Masterman for so long, Taylor completely understands that the culture is one that is generally nonviolent. However, he concludes: “I don’t have a problem with [confiscating items]. I’d rather not do it. It inconveniences you, and takes up your time and my and my partner [Officer Thomas’s] time.” In order to ensure equality of guidelines within the district, rather than fighting the system, Taylor advises that Masterman students be more mindful of what they are bringing to school.