My heart sank when the man at the immigration counter gestured to the back room. I was bor

My heart sank when the man at the immigration counter gestured to the back room. I was born and raised in America, and this was Miami, where I live, but they weren’t quite ready to let me in yet.
　 “Please wait in here, Ms. Abujaber,” the immigration officer said. My husband, with his very American last name, accompanied me. He was getting used to this. The same thing had happened recently in Canada when I’d flown to Montreal to speak at a book event. That time they held me for 45 minutes. Today we were returning from a literary festival in Jamaica, and I was shocked that I was being sent “in back” once again.
　　The officer behind the counter called me up and said, “Miss, your name looks like the name of someone who’s on our wanted list. We’re going to have to check you out with Washington.”
　　“How long will it take?”
　　“Hard to say…a few minutes,” he said, “We’ll call you when we’re ready for you.” After an hour, Washington still hadn’t decided anything about me.
“Isn’t this computerized?” I asked at the counter, “Can’t you just look me up?”
“Just a few more minutes,” they assured me.
　　After an hour and a half, I pulled my cell phone out to call the friends I was supposed to meet that evening. An officer rushed over. “No phones!” he said, “For all we know you could be calling a terrorist cell and giving them information.”
　　“I’m just a university professor,” I said. My voice came out in a squeak.
　　“Of course you are. And we take people like you out of here in leg irons every day.”
　　I put my phone away.
　　My husband and I were getting hungry and tired. Whole families had been brought into the waiting room, and the place was packed with excitable children, exhausted parents, and even a flight attendant.
　　I wanted to scream, to jump on a chair and shout: “I’m an American citizen; a novelist; I probably teach English literature to your children.”
After two hours in detention (扣押), I was approached by one of the officers. “You’re free to go,” he said. No explanation or apologies. For a moment, neither of us moved. We were still in shock. Then we leaped to our feet.
　　“Oh, one more thing,” he handed me a tattered photocopy with an address on it, “If you aren’t happy with your treatment, you can write to this agency.”
　　“Will they respond?” I asked.
　　“I don’t know—I don’t know of anyone who’s ever written to them before.” Then he added,” By the way, this will probably keep happening each time you travel internationally.”
　　“What can I do to keep it from happening again?”
　　He smiled the empty smile we’d seen all day, “Absolutely nothing.”
　　After telling several friends about our ordeal, probably the most frequent advice I’ve heard in response is to change my name. Twenty years ago, my own graduate school writing professor advised me to write under a pen name so that publishers wouldn’t stick me in what he called “the ethnic ghetto”—a separate, secondary shelf in the bookstore. But a name is an integral part of anyone’s personal and professional identity—just like the town you’re born in and the place where you’re raised.
　　Like my father, I’ll keep the name, but my airport experience has given me a whole new perspective on what diversity and tolerance are supposed to mean. I had no idea that being an American would ever be this hard.
【小题1】The author was held at the airport because .A．she and her husband returned from JamaicaB．her name was similar to a terrorist’sC．she had been held in MontrealD．she had spoken at a book event【小题2】She was not allowed to call her friends because .A．her identity hadn’t been confirmed yetB．she had been held for only one hour and a halfC．there were other families in the waiting roomD．she couldn’t use her own cell phone【小题3】We learn from the passage that the author would to prevent similar experience from happening again.A．write to the agencyB．change her nameC．avoid traveling abroadD．do nothing【小题4】Her experiences indicate that there still exists in the US.A．hatredB．discriminationC．toleranceD．diversity【小题5】The author sounds in the last paragraph.A．impatientB．bitterC．worriedD．ironic (具有讽刺意味的)B

(答案→)B 解析：文章讲述作者因为名字和恐怖主义者相似而被扣留在机场两个小时，朋友建议她改名字防止类似的事情再次发生，作者感到很气愤，也很无奈。【小题1】细节题：从文章第三段的句子：Miss, your name looks like the name of someone who’s on our wanted list.可知作者被滞留在机场因为她的名字和恐怖主义者相似，选B【小题2】细节题：从文章的句子：“For all we know you could be calling a terrorist cell and giving them information.”可知作者不被允许打电话给朋友，因为她的身份还没有证实，选A【小题3】细节题：从文章倒数第二段的句子：After telling several friends about our ordeal, probably the most frequent advice I’ve heard in response is to change my name.可知作者可能会换名字，以防类似的事情再发生，选D【小题4】推理题：从文章倒数第二段的句子: . Twenty years ago, my own graduate school writing professor advised me to write under a pen name so that publishers wouldn’t stick me in what he called “the ethnic ghetto”—a separate, secondary shelf in the bookstore.可以推断出在美国存在歧视，选B【小题5】推理题：从最后一段的句子; I had no idea that being an American would ever be this hard.可知作者有讽刺的口气，选D

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