At the Halsey Street train station in Brooklyn, four teenagers are shackled and seated on the hard wooden bench. Two police officers in plainclothes, who do not look like cops, stand near the youth. One is on his walkie-talkie. The other stands watch. I look at the teenagers, not knowing why they are shackled and seated on the bench, but they are smiling, saying something that evokes laughter. I want to tell the plainclothes officers to tighten the cuffs, to bring some pain if not gravity to the situation. I hate seeing youth shackled. I hate seeing that being shackled is not taken seriously, and even evokes laughter from those in shackles.