Greer's Ramblings

The Primrose, October 2009

At the September CGS business meeting, Prez Jackie brought up the subject of drivers licenses and ID cards. Fortunately she was wearing her designer flak jacket as the topic elicited a great deal of discussion which led to a cat fight and then to gunshots, apparently with large bore shotguns. Someone yelled “You lie!” and someone else screamed “It’s the cops!”, then the lights went out and everyone ran for the doors.
Wow! That Christine plans some exciting meetings doesn’t she! OK, so I made most of that up, but I could hardly wait to see what happened next. In reality, there was a high level of interest expressed about state ID cards and driver’s licenses. Naturally I figured I better throw my unsolicited opinions into the fray.
In my mind (feeble as it may be), there are two different sets of questions involved here. One set for those who split their time between different presentation genders, and another set for those who are transitioning on a full-time basis. Jackie is making official inquiries about the requirements and processes for those who are transitioning, and she will report her findings elsewhere. For my part, I decided to take on the questions facing those of us who are “part time”. So gather round the fire my friends, and I will tell you of my adventures at the Secretary of State facility in Lombard.
To set the scene, a number of years ago, the great state of Illinois made the questionable decision to bestow upon me the title of “licensed driver”. In spite of an occasional difference of opinion with law enforcement officers, I have happily maintained my right to operate a motor vehicle (single vehicle, GVWR 16,000 or less, except cycles, corrective lenses required) ever since. To obtain the laminated card that is the expression of the state’s trust in my driving skills (hereafter referred to as a driver’s license or DL), I was required to present proof of several things: (A) my date of birth, (B) my signature, (C) my social security number, and (D) my residence. There was also the minor issue of whether I could drive, but we won’t open that bucket of worms just now. I satisfied the requirements by presenting my Colorado state drivers license, my social security card, and a utility bill showing my new address. Since then, I have managed to continue to confuse officialdom, and my DL has been renewed a number of times. The hair in the photo has become progressively more grey, and the weight shown has inched up. But each time, the word “Male” has been included along with my full name as spelled out in my birth certificate (which neither looks nor sounds at all femme).
Like many of you, I have never much liked having to show my “boy” DL to get into clubs or to establish that I am of legal drinking age (I am, but only barely). Since I spend the majority of my time in boy mode (a pity), changing my DL to femme is impractical. However, I had heard and read that one could also get an ID card with a different photo. I must admit to being dubious about this, but I decided to dive in and see what was truly possible.
I checked out the Secretary of State website (http://www.sos.state.il.us/), and found nothing that said that I couldn’t have both an ID card and a DL. So, I checked out the office hours for my local facilities. My preferred location (Lombard) is closed on Sunday and Monday, open 9 to 7 on Tuesdays, 8 to 12 on Saturdays, and 8 to 5:30 on the other days. As it happened, it was Tuesday, and I was planning to go to the Transformations T-Party that night. So I decided that I would hit the DMV on my way that very day! Everybody say, “you go girl!”
A side note here if I may. I was raised in California (yeah, yeah, I know), and the place where you go for everything related to driving in California was the Department of Motor Vehicles, aka “the DMV”. What do you Illinois natives call it? Perhaps you could all get together and elect a spokesperson to inform me. For now, I will use the term DMV. By the way, I have also lived and had DLs in the states of Washington and Colorado, and I don’t recall what they called the DMV either. Do you care? Nah!
Like most of you, my many experiences with the DMV have always been friendly, helpful, positive and emotionally uplifting. What? Really? Not so much? You would rather read my column than go to the DMV? Wow, that’s pretty bad. As I recall, the experience was actually pretty much the same in each of the 4 states where I have been licensed.
Anyway, I tried not to think too much about what my DMV experience en femme would be like as I prepared myself for the evening. Those of you who saw me later at the T-party at Big Shot know that I decided to present myself a bit more conservatively than I sometimes do. Now, now. Let’s be nice and not start throwing around words like slutty and trampy. Can I help it if all my skirts shrunk in the wash? I have resisted the urge to shrink or otherwise raise the hem on my new, black, knee-length, pencil skirt from Tall Girl (Kathy shook her finger at me and said it was supposed to be that long), so I thought it would be a good opportunity to wear it. I paired the skirt with a feminine, but understated short-sleeved blouse, and my black pumps. I thought I looked every inch the career girl after work.
In spite of the sadistic efforts of Tom Tom (my GPS with a female voice named Kathy who speaks with a British accent) to take me someplace else entirely, I managed to arrive at the DMV in Lombard about 6:30 PM. There were quite a few cars in the parking lot and I envisioned a long wait in line, all the while being sneered at by dozens of trans-phobic working men and women who also enjoy spending time at the DMV. But on the positive side, it was a beautiful day, work had been tolerable, and I was en femme and feeling excellent. Let them sneer! Let them laugh! I say “Hah!” For I am trans, hear me roar! (Damn, that sounded good, I wish I really was that confident.)
My first surprise was pleasant. In spite of the number of cars in the parking lot, the crowd in the office was actually pretty light. There were perhaps 6 people in the initial waiting area. My second surprise was the very cordial greeting I received from the man at the “welcome” desk. I told him I was there for an ID card. He nicely asked if I had a DL, then used it to enter initial information in their system. He didn’t bat an eye as he looked over my boy photo and information. With a nice smile, he handed my DL back along with a slip of paper showing my waiting list number and told me it would just be a few minutes.
I selected just the right place to sit in the waiting area (not so close to the front that I appear pushy, far enough back so that I can look around at other people, not to close to the back so that I look timid, and on the main aisle so that when I cross my legs they can be properly admired). Sitting there I was able to relax and look around at my fellow supplicants. In addition to those of us in the waiting area, there were about 8 at the various windows (all seeming a bit nervous and agitated), perhaps a dozen in the testing area (poor sods), and 4 people in the photo area (all breathing big sighs of relief). I had to smile when a young lady and her Dad went up to the first window while I waited. Remember being that young and going for your first DL? No really. Do you remember, because that is way to far back for me to remember!
I only had to wait about 5 minutes before my number was called. I had a moment of panic as I tried to figure out where window 8 might be. Between windows 1 and 3? Possibly after window 12? OMG! Oh, there it is. Right between windows 7 and 9. How clever. Like in numeric order or something. Now remember to walk like a lady, short steps, slight swing to the hips, non-believers are watching.
I managed to make it to the window without falling off my heels, and there I met Ms. DMV worker of 2009. She was everything that we all love about this special breed of people. Unsmiling, abrupt, cold, all business. To her credit, she didn’t react to my boy DL, although she did sound a bit confused when she confirmed that I was applying for an ID but already had a DL. She proceeded in a businesslike way to complete the paperwork which required my signature in two places, and then she sent me along to the cashier.
There was one interesting thing that happened while I was at window 8. A “suit” with a name tag that identified him as a manager of some sort placed a small note in front of my clerk. The note was held in such a way that I couldn’t read it. After reading it, my clerk said something affirmative to the suit who then walked away. I suspect the note said, “Did you notice that it’s a guy?” Or maybe it was “Be careful with the tranny, he/she’s a reporter for The Primrose.”
While the clerk at window 8 had been a member of the all-DMV team, at least she didn’t flinch. The cashier however, was a bit older and less able to hide her reactions. From her I got a serious double-take, and another question verifying that I wanted an ID card when I already had a DL. I gave her $20 and a smile. She then mumbled, “Put the fraggin in gra slaggen and tovin out the phwten.” Sensing my confusion, she let out a sigh that was fine-tuned by years of DMV experience to express disdain for all outsiders, and she then repeated that the form was to go into the red box and I was to go to the photo area.
In the photo area it occurred to me that my name would be called to have my picture taken. Oh goody. Everyone’s curiosity to be satisfied with one yell of “Joe Lunchbox?” I know, I will ignore my name when it is called. After a moment I will look around as if to ask, “so where is this guy that’s holding up the process?” Then I would go up casually as if to ask a question. Yeah. That will fool them. Ah, but then years of training took over. My name was called and I jumped to my feet. Rats. Outed by old habits.
The lady doing the photos ended up being another pleasant surprise. She gave me a nice, genuine smile and very politely told me it would be just a moment while her machine cycled or something. She then had me sign and sit for my picture. Unfortunately she wouldn’t let me tilt and turn my head slightly for my preferred look. I also forgot to touch up my hair and remove my glasses. Darn. Lost opportunities.
I returned to the seating area to wait for my new ID card, and for the last public announcement of my boy name. However, my final pleasant surprise came when the nice photo lady only announced my last name. Bless her heart.
And that was it! I was out the door with my brand new Illinois state ID card that featured a tolerable photo of me en femme. Of course my new ID still has the boy name and information, and that big notation “Male”, but at least my femme face is now official.
I have used my allotted space, so it is time to close. But before I go, here are a couple of final serious observations.
First, if you are considering obtaining a new or changed DL or ID, remember that the state really doesn’t care what you look like, but they do care that they are not a party to any attempt at fraud. You must provide documentation to establish your legal identity. And it is only that legal identity that will be permitted on your DL or ID.
Second, please do not let my story frighten you away from the DMV. There were no impediments placed in my way because I am trans. The process was simple, no one was at all antagonistic (just typically DMVish), and half the people I encountered were very nice.
Now, what kind of trouble can I get into for next month?

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Thoughts? Comments? Suggestions? Please send to me at greercd@hotmail.com.