Before Newark: How I Was Prevented From Leaving Safely

What happened in Newark did not begin in Newark. By the time I reached that airport, multiple attempts to contain my movement had already failed.

The first break in containment was renewing my expired passport.

I anticipated interference. Same day passport issuance is a known choke point. Instead, the process went smoothly. Once issued, my legal right to leave the United States hardened in a way that removed many administrative options for stopping me.

To obtain the passport the same day, I was required to show proof of imminent international travel. The cheapest available ticket was to Vancouver, British Columbia. I purchased it for that purpose. When the ticket turned out to be nonrefundable, I decided to use it. I had never been to Canada. It was three hours from Seattle and six from Portland, and I was considering spending time there anyway, possibly splitting my time between the two. The decision was practical, documented, and lawful.

That is when containment reappeared.

At the Canadian border, I was singled out. No other passengers were pulled aside. My bags were searched. I was told I could not enter Canada because of a dispute with my landlord. I was told I could return when my financial affairs were “in order.” They attempted to contact my landlord.

None of this has a legitimate relationship to Canadian admissibility as it was presented to me. What mattered was not the explanation but the result. I was blocked.

While I was isolated at the border, one of the officers assaulted me with a hazardous substance. I told her directly that I was a whistleblower, that I had filed a human rights complaint in Geneva, Switzerland, and that I was on my way there. I photographed her and said I would be adding her to the record. She attempted to grab my phone. Another officer restrained her.

I was then walked back across the border into Washington State.

It was after midnight. I was told I could not sit in the border lobby and wait for the next bus, which would not arrive until morning. I was told I could not remain on the property at all. I was forced to leave.

I spent the night in Bellingham. I was chemically assaulted in the room through the HVAC system and through architectural ingress. I slept on the floor. The next morning, the assaults continued in the lobby and at breakfast.

From Bellingham, I went to the airport and eventually took a shuttle back to Seattle. Assaults continued in the terminals as well as on the shuttle bus to SeaTac Airport. There are no direct international flights from Seattle to Geneva. I did not know that at the time. My routing took me through Newark.

Because of TSA disruptions and repeated flight delays, I missed my original connection. I accepted an eight hour layover deliberately. Flights were being pushed back repeatedly, and I chose a longer layover to ensure I would not miss the international leg entirely.

By the time I arrived in Newark, I had already demonstrated that I could not be quietly rerouted or deterred. Blocking Canada did not work. Passport issuance did not work. Domestic travel did not work. I was still moving toward Geneva.

That is the context in which Newark unfolded.

Newark: Escalation After I Preserved Evidence

I was flying out of Seattle during a federal government shutdown. TSA staffing was disrupted. Flights were delayed and reshuffled across the board. I missed my original connection but was eventually rebooked through Newark. Because of that rebooking, I ended up with an approximately eight hour layover. I was in the terminal for hours, in public, on camera, doing nothing more than waiting.

During that layover, I was chemically assaulted multiple times by people passing me in the terminal, individuals with luggage who brushed close enough for exposure and then moved on. This is not speculative. Newark is a heavily surveilled airport. The movement of those people, their proximity to me, and my reactions should all be visible on airport cameras.

Two of those incidents stood out because they followed a pattern I had already experienced repeatedly in hotels and airports. Janitorial staff were used as delivery mechanisms.

The first janitor was a woman with a traditional mop and bucket. I was seated in a public area. She approached and began mopping directly next to me, despite there being nothing to clean. She did not mop anywhere else. I smelled the chemical before she reached me. I told her clearly, “please wait, I’m allergic.” She ignored me, continued mopping only beside me, then left.

I went to ask for help and requested security. I flagged down a woman who turned out to be United staff. When I told her I had just been assaulted with a hazardous substance, she called a United supervisor.

When the supervisor arrived, she took a report. While she was writing, I asked her if she knew what a volatile organic compound was. She said she did. She had studied chemistry or physics at Rutgers. I explained that the substance used against me contained a volatile organic compound and that I had been repeatedly assaulted with similar solutions. I showed her my Substack. I told her I had filed a human rights complaint in Geneva and that I was traveling to Switzerland to follow up on it.

She then called the janitorial supervisor. He came, wrote his own report, and told me he believed it was an innocent mistake. His posture made it clear he was trying not to get the worker fired. At that point, I had done what I was supposed to do. I reported the assault. I documented it. I made myself visible.

Then it happened again.

The second janitor was a young Black man operating a mechanized mop cart. He likely spoke Spanish. He drove the cart into the restaurant bar area where I was sitting and began dispersing the substance via the mopping solution. I left the area to avoid exposure. He left as well.

As I walked past his unattended cart, I noticed a clear bottle sitting on top. Inside was a blue liquid. I picked it up and opened it. The smell was unmistakable. It matched the substance that had been used on me for six months in hotel and restaurant water solutions. My throat, nose, and eyes burned immediately.

I asked him if this was what he was using in the water. He responded in another language. We could not communicate clearly.

At that point, I understood that for the first time I had the substance itself. Not a description. Not a symptom. The actual liquid. I did not include them here, but I have photos and/or video of both incidents, including janitorial staff involved, security camera placement and the water bottle containing the blue liquid on the cart and in my possession after the assault.

I tried to find the janitorial supervisor again. No one would identify him or bring him. I then saw the same United staffer from the first incident as she was about to leave and asked her to call the United supervisor again. I told her the same thing had happened and that I now had the substance.

When the supervisor returned, I showed her the bottle. I explained that it came from the cart and that the smell matched what had been used on me. I told her it needed to be tested. This was finally a chance to identify what was being used.

She made several calls from the podium. Then she told me I could not take the substance on the plane.

That matters. If the liquid were harmless, there would be no reason to forbid me from flying with it. In practice, it was treated as hazardous material.

When she said I could not fly with it, I said the substance still needed to be tested and asked about calling the police. She told me that at the airport, the police are Port Authority. So I called them myself.

I asked Port Authority to take custody of the bottle as evidence, send it for testing, and take a report for assault with a hazardous substance.

On the phone, they acted as if they did not understand what “assault with a hazardous substance” meant. They resisted sending anyone. After repeated back and forth, they agreed to send officers.

When the officers arrived, I explained everything again. I told them the bottle came from the cart. I told them the smell matched what had been used on me. I told them this was evidence.

They told me they did not see that any crime had been committed. They told me they would not take the bottle into evidence. They told me they would not send it for testing or take a report.

Then they pivoted.

They accused me of stealing the bottle.

This was a small bottle, approximately eight to twelve ounces, containing a blue liquid that I had taken specifically so it could be preserved and reported as evidence. The accusation was absurd. It was also useful.

When they said they would not take a report or the bottle, I said “okay,” put the bottle into a paper bag, and turned to leave with it so it could be preserved elsewhere.

That is when they ran after me, grabbed me, and put me in handcuffs. I had never been handcuffed before in my life. They said I was under arrest for stealing a water bottle.

They were wearing body cameras. This should exist on video.

Once I was handcuffed, they took my phone, purse, and laptop bag. I do not know what they did with them while I was restrained. As I asked what they were doing and people watched, they pulled me into a secluded corridor out of view of other passengers.

EMS was called. I had already reported burning in my nose, throat, and airways. I declined on site treatment and said I would see a doctor of my choice in Geneva.

Instead of treating chemical exposure, EMS attempted to conduct a psychiatric evaluation in the hallway without my consent. They asked if I had a diagnosis. If I was on medication. If I had medication I should be taking. What year and day it was.

I answered no to diagnosis and medication questions. I said I did not consent. I overheard the female EMS worker telling Port Authority that if they wanted me removed from the premises, they would take me.

Later, a sergeant arrived. I asked why I was under arrest after reporting an assault and asking them to take custody of evidence. He said, “They didn’t tell you? One or more unidentified individuals reported you were acting erratic, and that’s why we have you here in custody.”

This explanation appeared out of nowhere. It conflicted directly with the earlier claim that I was being arrested for stealing a water bottle. It emerged only after I insisted the substance be treated as evidence.

While I was still in handcuffs waiting for EMS, I saw one of the officers speaking with United staff. Shortly after, the United supervisor told me I could not fly. My ticket would be refunded. I would need a doctor’s note or mental health evaluation to be cleared to travel.

This is how it works. Refuse to document the assault. Refuse to test the substance. Create a narrative of erratic behavior. Use public handcuffing to justify denial of travel. Shift the problem from chemical exposure to mental health, despite regulations designed to prevent exactly that kind of discrimination.

Eventually, EMS did not remove me. Port Authority, without explanation, walked me to the door and released me. They returned my belongings.

I took a bus and the subway to JFK. I bought a new ticket. I passed TSA screening. I boarded a flight to Switzerland without incident.

The assaults did not stop. They continued in terminals, on planes, and after my arrival in Geneva, indicating that the mechanism involved is not limited to a single airport, agency, or jurisdiction.

What Newark Meant

By the time Newark escalated, the issue was no longer travel. It was evidence.

Up to that point, every attempt to stop me had relied on friction, delay, or discretionary obstruction. Canada was blocked. Routes were disrupted. I was rerouted, delayed, and exposed. But I kept moving. Obtaining my passport removed one layer of control. Continuing to travel removed another.

Newark is where a different boundary was crossed.

When I identified and preserved the substance used against me, I broke informational containment. The harm was no longer deniable, abstract, or purely testimonial. I had the material itself. That changed the calculus completely.

At that point, there were only a few options left. Testing the substance would have created a record. Taking a report would have created a record. Allowing me to retain custody of the bottle would have created the possibility of independent verification. All of those outcomes threatened narrative control.

So those options were refused.

Instead, the response escalated. Evidence was reframed as theft. Reporting was reframed as disruption. Persistence was reframed as erratic behavior. Once that reframing was in place, the next step became available: psychiatric framing.

That is not incidental. Psychiatric framing is the only mechanism that simultaneously accomplishes several things at once. It justifies restraint. It justifies removal from flights. It justifies confiscation of property. It discredits testimony retroactively. And it does all of that without ever addressing the underlying facts.

That is why it appeared exactly where it did.

The key point is this. None of it worked.

After being handcuffed, publicly humiliated, and removed from my flight, I booked another ticket. I flew out of JFK without incident. I passed TSA. I boarded an international flight. I arrived in Geneva. I cleared biometric processing. I spoke briefly with an officer. He stamped my passport and let me enter.

No escalation. No concern. No psychiatric framing. No problem.

That outcome matters more than any narrative imposed in Newark.

It demonstrates that when I am not subjected to coordinated obstruction, there is no issue with my behavior, my mental state, or my fitness to travel. The problems appear only where interference is being actively applied, and they disappear the moment that interference is absent.

Newark did not reveal something about me. It revealed something about the system I was confronting.

It showed what happens when physical containment fails and informational containment fails next. It showed that escalation and psychiatric framing were not responses to danger or instability, but countermeasures deployed to stop movement and suppress evidence.

That is why I cannot go home.

Returning would not mean resolution. It would mean renewed exposure to the same tools. Administrative obstruction. Manufactured concern. Pathologization in place of protection. Loss of credibility instead of investigation.

Newark was the point at which that reality became undeniable.

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