a picture is forever
The Division of Licensing has been beating me. This has caused me great angst because although they aren’t as official as many agencies, they DO control my ability to operate a vehicle. additionally, many businesses require your driver’s license to identify yourself. As we move toward the obvious, a public identity card, some states have already declared that a driver’s license is not an identity card. interesting. Nor is your social security card.
I just want to drive.
I went to the license office almost 2 months ago, all geared up to take the written test and get a new license. didn’t work that way at all. they said I just needed to hand in my old license, prove my identity, get my photo taken and I’d be finished. they didn’t even care if I could see. they didn’t care if I knew the driving regulations in their state. Seemed excessively easy.
I had looked at their website, learning what I might need to take along for ID. The website examples are to bring a utility bill in applicant name, to the correct home address. A passport not expired longer than a year. A military ID. A federal employee ID. A current driver’s license from another state. They offer many identity choices. Two very long lists of them. I have never had a problem proving who I am so I did not expect a problem here.
this is something with which few men will identify. my name is Dorothy Alexa Marguerite Conway. society puts women in a spot after they marry. people in quite a few places can actually change a woman’s name, to make their filing system work more easily. when I married, I was 50 years old. I owned several houses in my name, owned my car, was buying another home, in my name, was an officer of the court, in my name, had 4 passports (you know, my name). So, since I already had 4 names, did I want to add a 5th? no, I really did not. my name was so long that no government office or form would accept it as it was. therefore, someone (a typist) would make a decision to shorten my name. think about that. long name. 3 of the names can easily be misspelled. as a result, the typist almost always drops a name. so, I have ID that shows me as Dorothy M Conway, as Alexa M Conway, as DA Conway, as (my favorite) DAM Conway, as Dorothy Alexa Conway. There are more, believe me. So many combinations available. I have too many names. I have never had a problem proving who I am, getting licenses in several states and territories.
This was easy. I went in with my current drivers license. It identifies me as Alexa M Conway Smith. Yep. Smith. Why? Well, because a well-intentioned young lady in Oregon added Smith to my last name, without proof of my identity, without a marriage certificate, without any substantiation that I had increased the size of my name. She recognized my husband, then she just did it. When she handed me my Oregon license, it said smith, behind everything else. I gulped. I was looking for the first time at a name that was foreign to me. My brand new husband was standing next to me, beaming. She was beaming. I was silent, not wanting to hurt him or her. I thanked her and we went on our way. today I would like to have her take that name off of my license. Not just because he is having a very public affair. Not because we are heading toward divorce. Not even because smith is such a common name and it increases the difficulty of my identity. Nope. Just because it was never my choice and because I liked my name just fine and it irks me that a woman is so easily re-identified in this society. She didn’t change HIS name to conway-smith. Only mine. Uh huh. I’m one of those.
So, the license office here did not like it that my name was smith on my license but not on my social security card. Well, duh. I never legally changed my name! but, you know who did? My health insurance company. Someone there just decided that I would be easier to find if my last name was the same as my husband’s. just like that, my records all went to smith. So now, I have to help them find me. Sometimes it’s conway-smith, sometimes it’s smith. We never know. It’s an easter egg hunt. Then, amazingly, my insurance company that handles my auto insurance, my homeowners insurance and my credit card, began to call me conway-smith. Wow. Another ‘somebody’ just decided it was easier. The first time we got our insurance cards, after I added my husband to my accounts, the cards came in my name, with his name listed afterwards. He had a fit. This did not work for him. It was my account. Everything had been mine. I added him to my accounts. Now, he was mad because things came in my name. so, I had to call them, asking that they put his name on things equally. The woman I spoke with completely understood. I explained to my husband that women deal with this all the time and he really should put his ego in check. It wasn’t a big deal. He would have none of it. So, when she put his name onto my accounts, she also changed my name. again, I was stunned. I was also conway-smith.
I am at fault here for not fighting for my identity. But, I married for life. I knew I could handle the little upsets that might come along with the name situation. Now, things are different. I don’t like seeing his name on my things. It hurts. I don’t like the feeling I get, knowing my husband is living with someone who decided my marriage wasn’t as important as her wants. So, I want to be rid of the ‘smith’ stuff. But, that’s a personal issue. Right now, I just want my new driver’s license. This is a fight.
I arrived in the licensing office with the following: my current license, an expired passport (the latest one was in an envelope, headed to salt lake city for renewal), a federally issued photo ID, two bills (utility and trash) mailed to me, at my home address, my auto insurance card and policy, in my name, at my address. Armed for anything, I took a number and waited. They would not accept my ID.
I went back 3 days later, better armed. This time I was carrying 3 passports, including the one that had been in the envelope to be renewed. This office suddenly caused an urgency I had not experienced in a very long time. I also took my airline ID, federally issued, with my photo. I took my court photo ID, 4 bills, a letter from the IRS written to ME, at my home address, with my social security number, and my full name and they would not accept it.
I went 7 times. By now, the people recognize me by name. but, they won’t accept my ID. finally, I won. They took my photo and sent me on my way, promising my new license would arrive by mail w/in a week. I was happy/sad. Happy to accomplish this, sad because I had long given up on looking good in my photo. The first time I had arrived straight from the hairdresser. Looking as good as was possible for my age. As the visits continued, I began doing less and less about my appearance, knowing that today was not going to be my day.
I decided whatever picture I had was fine. It wasn’t. but, I still felt good about the achievement. That feeling lasted 3 weeks. by then my license was long overdue. I had travelled to Florida to help my aunt Dot, with a flimsy little temporary license that caused much dismay to the airline screeners. Their dismay caused lots of searching on my personal being.
I had no license waiting when I returned. I began to fret. I started calling the licensing division. That’s fun. It’s also fruitless. I scoured their website for information and actually found a link that says contact us here if you have not received your license! What foresight! I ‘clicked’ and wrote. I sent my full name, address, date of application, old license number and state, last 4 digits of my social. 3 days later I got a note back informing me that I needed to send my name, address, last 4 digits, date of application, old license number AND new temp license number. Otherwise, no help for me. Incredible but people NEED jobs and without this time consuming effort on her part, she might not appear to be as employable. I found the last puzzle piece and sent the note back.
She wrote. She did not like my ID. I would not receive my license. Noooooooooooooooooooooo. I wrote again, begging, offering meals, trying to be her friend, trying to learn anything that might help me work through this latest glass ceiling. No good. She finally told me to go to the social security office, change my name, get a new card, then start the process again. Amazing. This is where we live. Amazing. They all know I am really ME. Nobody will make a decision.
So, today I went back. I was fully armed. Now I carry things in a large overstuffed envelope. I learned online that the office has a ‘identification specialist’ who has the authority to make a decision.
I went to one of ‘my people’, asking for the identification specialist. She was very nice. Sorry to learn I had not gotten my license. She was also perplexed that I had actually corresponded with someone who could supposedly help. She questioned me about that frequently. I kept explaining exactly where to find it on THEIR website. I was getting nowhere. Then, I began to cry. Really cry. One year ago, my dad passed away. It’s been on my mind. Maybe that spurred the tears but my frustration level over them refusing something so basic, simply because the person making the decision can ‘choose’ to ignore the obvious, has beaten me down. I need them. they don’t need me. I don’t want to break the law but I WILL drive. I MUST drive. I am alone. I need things. Driving is the answer.
Two men began to eves-drop and move in closer. The customer next to me dug out a Kleenex. By now I was well into the ‘ugly cry’, no stopping me. Two more men, one who had helped me several times, became part of the ‘employee circle’. Everyone is questioning and trying to help. Finally, one man (maybe he was actually the Identification Specialist!) made the decision. I would get a license! I was beyond thrilled. I asked him out for drinks immediately! He had the good sense to ignore me.
So, I am waiting for my new license to appear in the mail. I know what you’re thinking: why would this time be any different? What makes me think it’s actually going to be sent, when that ‘person’ is lying in wait to refuse me? I will tell you exactly why: because they took my picture again, because I looked like shit, because I had not washed my hair or put on make-up, because I had sobbed, let my nose run, and had a horribly red face. Yes, this license will come. This picture will follow me for years. Forget the name, forget the hassle, forget the 8 trips to DOL. It’s all about the picture. I have never looked worse in my life. one guy offered to take me to a beauty parlor across the street to let them ‘try to fix you up’. one of the male employees actually said “alexa, (like we’re good friends), do you have any makeup in your car?” when the picture guy got ready to take the picture, he looked at me and asked if I needed ‘a minute’. I was crying! I said ‘a minute’ would not do me a bit of good.
This license will arrive. I won!
This entry was posted on Friday, November 20th, 2009 at 6:46 pm and is filed under common sense, death, fear, giving, leading by example, loyalty in relationships, marriage, necessity, training. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.