Editorial: The Taos incident and some kvetching about who’s really a kid

Robin Poague seems like a stand-up guy but he and the U.S. Forest Service have some explaining to do.

On Feb. 22, four Forest Service law enforcement agents wearing flak jackets and carrying side arms descended on the Taos Ski Valley accompanied by a drug-sniffing dog  and performed a drug sweep that turned up very little: citations and warnings to skiers for violations ranging from ”possession amounts of marijuana” to cracked windshields.

Aside from the fact that having a cracked windshield practically constitutes proof of New Mexico citizenship, the operation was at least heavy-handed and, according to one witness I spoke to, the Forest Service officers were practically snarling at patrons.

I also talked to Poague, a Forest Service special agent based in Albuquerque who says he’s responsible for signing off on the sweep and said, “I do have concerns about the tone of the law enforcement activities up there.”

Poague said an “after-action review” has been ordered to see what went right and what went wrong. Let’s hope some tough questions are asked that lead to some clear-cut answers.

In defense of the agency, a portion of the ski valley sits on U.S. Forest Service land so the Forest Service has a right to enforce laws in the ski valley’s vicinity.

But the operation — I guess you could call it a raid — has led people to express surprise that the Forest Service even has a law enforcement division and, more significantly, raised questions about whether one is really needed.

If there are suspected drug problems on federal land, isn’t that the role of the DEA? And couldn’t this operation have been better coordinated by using local Taos law enforcement?

Former Gov. Gary Johnson is spitting nails. He’s an avid skier and Taos resident who says the incident is another example of the further militarization of federal law enforcement in the wake of the 9/11 attacks. He’s got a good point and if you want to read a series of frightening examples of the trend, check out Radley Balko’s book, “Rise of the Warrior Cop.”

We’ve come a long way from Andy Taylor and Ranger Rick. It’s time for a re-evaluation.

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The NCAA Tournament is underway and while the tournament and its “bracketology” has become part of the national landscape, there is one thing about this time of year that bothers me: Coaches, such as Mike Krzyzewski, referring to their players as “my kids.”

Can we ditch this term? First of all, anyone over the age of 18 is not a child; they are adults. They may be young adults, but they are adults.

During the just-completed legislative session, many lawmakers — including Gov. Susana Martinez – referred to ”our children” when discussing fixing the state’s lottery scholarship program. I know there’s no intention to offend but there’s something patronizing about calling college-age adults “kids.”

As a society — whether it’s overprotective “helicopter parents” or even the Affordable Care Act’s provision allowing sons and daughters to stay on their parents’ health care policies until the age of 26 (26?!) — we keep extending what constitutes childhood and I don’t think it’s healthy.

I’m going to get all old and cranky on this one but in World War II an overwhelming number of young men — some of them under 18 – fought and died for their country. They were not children and I suspect anyone who referred to them as kids would have received a well-deserved kick in the butt.

When you turn 18, you are old enough to vote, old enough to join the military, old enough to be prosecuted as adult should you break the law and, I say, old enough to legally buy a drink. But that’s another column for another day.

(This column originally ran in the Santa Fe New Mexican on March 23, 2014. Contact Rob Nikolewski at [email protected] and follow him on Twitter @robnikolewski)