Rodzina miała dostęp do moich „podstawowych plików roboczych” – aż do przybycia ekip bezpieczeństwa wewnętrznego. Rzecz w pracy

The thing about working for the Department of Homeland Security’s Intelligence Division is that your family never really understands what “classified” means. Not really. To them, it’s just a word you use to sound important, to avoid explaining your boring desk job, to make yourself seem more interesting than you actually are. I’m Sarah Mitchell, 31 years old, and I’ve worked as a Senior Intelligence Analyst for DHS for six years. My security clearance level is TS/SCI with special access to counterterrorism intelligence.

I analyze threat data, coordinate with international agencies, and help prevent attacks on U.S. soil. But to my family, I’m just Sarah who “works for the government doing paperwork.” My older sister Amanda is a pediatrician. My younger brother Kyle runs a successful marketing agency. They have careers people understand, careers they can explain at parties, careers that make Mom and Dad proud.

The thing about working for the Department of Homeland Security’s Intelligence Division is that your family never really understands what classified means. Not really. To them, it’s just a word you use to sound important to avoid explaining your boring desk job to make yourself seem more interesting than you actually are. I’m Sarah Mitchell, 31 years old, and I’ve worked as a senior intelligence analyst for DHS for 6 years. My security clearance level is TS/SEI with special access to counterterrorism intelligence.

I analyze threat data, coordinate with international agencies, and help prevent attacks on US soil. But to my family, I’m just Sarah who works for the government doing paperwork. My older sister Amanda is a pediatrician. My younger brother Kyle runs a successful marketing agency. They have careers people understand. Careers they can explain at parties. Careers that make mom and dad proud. I’ve spent 6 years saying I can’t discuss my work so many times that my family genuinely believes I have nothing interesting to discuss.

The problem started 3 months ago when I made the mistake of working from home during a family visit. I’d been at my parents house in suburban Virginia for mom’s birthday weekend. It was supposed to be relaxing, a break from the intensity of my job. But Friday afternoon, my supervisor called with an urgent situation.

A credible threat had emerged, requiring immediate analysis. I need you to review the intelligence packet and provide assessment within 4 hours. Director Walsh had said, “I’m sending it to your secure home system now.” “Understood,” I’d replied, already heading to my childhood bedroom where I’d set up my secure laptop.