I am a white woman from Connecticut. I used to say this half jokingly to friends as I got older. I mean I did grow up in an affluent neighborhood in Connecticut. Most of my friends were white. My family was the only non-white family on our street. I went to an all-girls boarding school in Simsbury where most of the students were white. My mother insisted we were Caucasian because, as she said, we were descended from the Mongol Empire, but, really, I think it was a sign of her own racism.

I was very comfortable around white people, so much so that I sort of thought of myself as white(ish). With a head start in the tan department, often a source of envy for my truly white friends.

Needless to say, I have a complicated relationship to race, and I’m the first one to admit it. And today it got more complicated.

I went to the Long Beach airport this morning to take a flight I have taken hundreds of times from Long Beach to Oakland, on JetBlue, my favorite airline. I fly so often for work that I’ve got it down to a science. I pack lightly, never checking a bag since I’m often rushing into the office in San Francisco after I land.

I carefully put all my liquids in a zip lock baggie instead of the stylish toiletry bag I purchased some years ago. I print my boarding pass at home, both for efficiency at the airport, and because it gives me more points on my TrueBlue account. Jenny drops me to the tiny airport in Long Beach, smaller than some bus stations I have been to, which means it is also easy to navigate. It’s like a Fisher Price airport–the gates are actually trailers and you have to walk onto the tarmac to board the plane.

Anyway, I was not able to print my boarding pass from home which I chalked up to the fact that JetBlue was upgrading its system. So when I got to the airport, I went to the self check-in kiosk and still was not able to get a boarding pass. So I went to the ticket counter, where the nice JetBlue lady said, “Has this ever happened to you before?”

I replied nonchalantly, “Well, I have had some trouble printing my boarding pass at home in the last two weeks, but I think it’s because you guys have been upgrading your system.”

“Sometimes my TrueBlue login doesn’t work,” I continued, “But then I just enter my confirmation number, or the kiosk always works.”

At this point I saw her filling out a form so I peered over the counter and saw the words “No-Fly Watch List.” A list I knew to be maintained by the Federal Bureau of Investigation’s Terrorist Screening Center.

“Am I on the No-Fly Watch List?” I asked, astonished.

She confirmed that I was, and also that I would now have to go through extra screening every time I fly. No more printing boarding passes at home. No checking in at the kiosk. And given that I am flying every week this month to say nothing about March, April, or the rest of the year, I was a little concerned about how this might effect the efficiencies I had achieved in being such a  frequent and well-seasoned traveler. “You’ll have to contact the Transportation Authority Administration and ask them about how to get off the list.”

She said I was probably on the list because I shared the name of  a suspicious person. I bet there are many Khans on there. And it probably doesn’t help that I was born in Pakistan.

After I showed the ticket agent my identification, and she filled out the No-Fly Watch List paperwork, she gave me my boarding pass and I was able to pass through security to the gate. And then I was pulled aside for extra screening after I presented my boarding pass at the gate. A nice TSA lady frisked me as people walked by me to board the plane. Fortunately, I’m a patient person, and I realize the TSA staff,  who are probably very underpaid, are just doing their jobs.

I didn’t blame the TSA or JetBlue staff about the fact that the No-Fly Watch List has raised civil liberties concerns, due in part to the potential for ethnic, religious, economic, political, and racial profiling and discrimination. It has also raised concerns about privacy and government secrecy. I wanted to take a measured approach (maybe partly to do with  my white woman from Connecticut identity), instead of getting hysterical about the fact that I was probably being racially profiled.

So, when I got to the office in San Francisco, I did a bit of research. I learned that I have to file a report with TRIP (the Traveler Redress Inquiry Program) which is a program of the Department of Homeland Security. This takes 30-45 days to process, so it won’t be of much help to me for my travels in February.

I also learned that I am in good company. The late Senator Ted Kennedy was once mistakenly on the list. And, according to an article last month in the New York Times,  so is an eight-year old Cub Scout from New Jersey by the name of Mikey Hicks. My friend Jim Gallagher also once told me he is on the list, though I’m not sure if he was ever able to remove himself. So even if I was a white woman from Connecticut, it’s conceivable that I could still have this problem, though it’s probably more likely to do with the fact that my last name is Khan.

Is it too late to change my name? I wondered,  thinking about whether I should have followed in my sisters’ foot steps and changed my name, too, when I got (gay) married. Oh, it probably wouldn’t matter anyway. After all, Mikey Hicks has been on the No-Fly Watch List for the last six years, since he was two-years old. Hope it doesn’t take me that long to get off the list.