Name change
(I tried for about five minutes, but couldn’t come up with a good pun using ‘name.’ Feel free to suggest better post titles in the comments…)
Yesterday I went back down to the Daley Center to finalize my name change, from what I was given at birth to what I’ve been using for the last seven months (at work), year and a half (with friends), or fifteen years (in my head). I suppose the timeline is all in how you look at it.
I’m an over-planner, which won’t shock any of you that know me. I hold to the stage managers mantra, “Early is on time, on time is late, and late is unacceptable.” I like backups and backups of backups. Getting to movies earlier than most, and laughing at those who get there just as the movie’s starting and have to sit way up front.
Unfortunately, that also means I worry a lot the night before big things, my mind racing to make sure I’ve covered every contingency. Even when I’ve double- and triple-checked things to make sure I have everythinging in order, I toss and turn and inevitably wake up before my alarm.
Sunday night, I checked (and double-checked after I brushed my teeth) the correct subway stop to get off at, made sure I knew where my paperwork was, looked one more time at the paperwork to confirm I had the date, the time, and the room number right, and went to bed.
Tried to go to bed.
I tossed and turned. And turned and tossed. I’m sure I actually got some sleep, but it didn’t feel that way. I finally rolled over at 5AM to look at the clock – I had set my alarm for 6:40 – and at 5:30 realized I wasn’t going to fall back asleep. So I read Harry Potter until I had to get up. (I just finished rereading the sixth and seventh books after seeing the sixth movie. Another post on that later.)
At 6:40, I got up for my morning routine, which usually takes about an hour from getting up to getting out the door. At last, at about 7:30, I set out to the train to take me downtown to get my name changed.
I realized before I got down the block that I didn’t have my cellphone.
At 7:35, I set out again to the train to take me downtown to get my name changed.
I realized before I got two blocks that I didn’t have a secondary form of ID, needed – according to the Secretary of State’s website – for any drivers license updates.
At 7:40, I set out again (again) to the train to take me downtown to get my name changed.
I still managed to get to the courtroom, where my hearing was scheduled for 9AM, by 8:30.
So, for half an hour, I sat and nervously twiddled my thumbs. I checked my email on my cellphone. I looked through my paperwork again. I minutely examined my fingernails. I assured a few people who checked in to see why some woman was sitting alone in a court room before anything was happening that, yes, I was there for a hearing and had arrived early.
At last, at 9, the judge came in and sat down. A few minutes before, a Hispanic family – a man, a woman, and (presumably) their daughter – had come into the court and sat down on the other side of the aisle. The judge asked if I was present (I was) and if the Hispanic family was present (they were). He then asked them to approach to change the girl’s name – adding another last name, presumably one of the adults’ – where it quickly became apparent none of them had a great grasp of English.
He finally clarified what they needed to do, checked to make sure they were adding an additional last name (and not intending to remove one), signed the paperwork, and sent them on their way. He then called me up.
Before getting to any of that legal name change stuff, he ruminated on how people should learn to speak the language of the country they’re in and how sad it was that the mom from the Hispanic family thought he might speak Spanish. (I heard the cop off to the side mutter something about “…in America.”)
Figuring I needed to know when to pick my battles, I smiled and agreed with every word coming out of his mouth, doing my best to Jedi mind control him to get on with it. At last, he asked me if I was intending to change my name from my given name to Rebecca, and I assured him I was.
The actual hearing then took about 3 minutes. The judge directed an unnecessary amount of “Sirs” at me for someone who obviously knew I would have preferred “Miss” or “Ma’am” but, again, I figured that discretion is the better part of valor…
At last, I had four copies of official paperwork saying that, yes, I was changing my name and, yes, a judge had approved it and, yes, I’d paid my fines. I then needed to go down to the cashier to get everything certified (another stamp, and another $36 for the four copies), where I again got to hear someone talk about how sad it was that the Hispanic family couldn’t speak any English.
But finally, at 9:20AM, I had four certified copies saying I was now, legally, Rebecca.
Which meant I had plenty of time to go deal with the DMV to get a new license before heading up to work.
The downtown DMV was just across the street, and had almost no line. Getting the new license with a corrected name and updated address was easy and only $5, but the guy behind the counter refused to update the gender, saying I needed “a letter from a doctor.” Grrr.
The guy taking my new photo then did a double take at my old license, but before he could say anything I said, “Yes, I know. That’s why I’m getting a new license.” Grrr.
So by 10AM, I was feeling pretty good – I had my new license, I had four certified copies to be used for my birth certificate, social security, and so on, and I had time to get to work and not get yelled at for missing payroll.
But I really wanted that gender marker.
I remembered stories of other trans men and women I’ve talked to who said they just went to the DMV and said, “Oh, there must be some mistake on my license…” and got everything fixed, so I figured I might as well try that. The L ride back up to my apartment took another half hour, and by about 11AM I was at yet another DMV, nervously waiting to try and convince some state employee that, somehow, when I’d gotten a little typo corrected on my license earlier that day, they’d accidentally put ‘Male’ instead of ‘Female’ which didn’t make any sense! (Insert flustered pause.)
I lucked out, and got a little old lady who imediately said, “Well that’s not right! Lets take care of it.”
At that point, I needed to suppress a grin from breaking out.
She typed away, muttering and “hmm”ing, and increasing my worry. I was sure my old photo would show up, my old name would show up, the updates hadn’t propagated across the DMV’s system yet, she would be psychic, I would burst out in nervous giggling, a stray lightening bolt would hit the building…
“Just take that to the cashier – they won’t charge you for the correction, but they need to sign off on it – and you’ll be good to go!”
Wait, really?
At that point, I didn’t bother to suppress a grin, and smiled my way over to the cashier, who then sent me to get (another) picture taken. But this time I was ready, and actually smiling, and was subsequently handed the most perfect drivers license that ever there was.
The car ride up to work was filled with much “yahoo!”ing and singing along to random songs on my iPod. And the license sat on my desk the rest of the day, so I could show it to friends and coworkers and brag.
I’m still a little high off of having done it, and feel a little like I’ve gotten away with something. Likewise, the new license – significantly different than the old license in style and texture – feels like a fake.
But it’s a delightful, lovely fake, and I’ll keep that high for as long as I can.
Themocracy
AMAZING! I am so happy for you! I love that you had the guts to pretend they had just made a gender mistake, and I am so thrilled that it worked. Hilarious. I can’t wait to see your license in person on Friday. CONGRATULATIONS!
Thanks! And yes, we shall have to put the license to good use!
Congrats! Way exciting! And your second trip around to the DMV was particularly funny… Although it’s sad the judge had to be such an ass with the Sirs and Ma’am.
How long of a process was it? I want to change my middle name to my mother’s maiden name.
Thanks, Lindsay! And yeah, it would have been nice to have a nicer judge, but he also could have been much more of a jerk, so I’m not too upset.
The process, I’m told, varies from state to state, but here’s how it worked for me.
First, I went to this page on the Illinois Legal Aid site, which had a breakdown of how everything works and links to a site where you can enter your info (old name, new name, address, etc) and it’ll spit out the forms you need, already filled out.
Once I had my forms in order (which was such a relief to be able to do so easily, and took maybe a half hour) I went to my bank to have them signed by a witness (my mom) and notarized. This would have taken five minutes, except the notary signed the wrong spot, so I had to go back the next day and get new forms notarized. Because it was my bank, this was free.
I then went down to the Daley Center in downtown Chicago to file my forms, which was easy but expensive. Filing was about $330, and I then needed to publish a notice I was planning on changing my name, which was another $140. After I had proof I’d paid to publish the notice, I got a hearing date, which was yesterday. I went down to the Daley Center in late May, and the hearing date (in Illinois) is always at least seven weeks later than your filing, so that the published notice can appear for the proper amount of time. (Ugh.)
Yesterday, then, was actually pretty quick. As I said, I was in and out of the Daley Center in less than an hour.
So the actual time to file the paperwork, have the hearing, etc, wasn’t too bad for me. Had I been able to do everything in one day, I probably could have been done by noon. Unfortunately, the hearing has to be ~2 months later than the filing, so it required going down to the Daley Center again and taking a bit more time off work. Ultimately, it wasn’t too bad – the most obnoxious thing is definitely still the ~$500 it cost, not counting any fees from Social Security, the DMV, etc.
Hope that helps!
That’s such a long process! I have friends who just got married and decided to hyphenate. For her, all she had to do was go to some government center with her marriage license and it was set. For him, he has to do a similar process and put a notice in the paper, etc.
I suppose it’s not easy so people don’t change their names to avoid paying debt, etc, but it’s still a hassle.
Yeah, it’s pretty absurd. I’m very much of the opinion the role of government is to get in the way of the action of its citizens as little as possible, but apparently the Great State of Illinois disagrees…
Glad for you
Congrats! Having to go to a court just to change a name sounds rather scary O.o (different system in the UK)
Thanks! Yeah, it’s sort of ridiculous (and expensive!) that a notification and hearing are required…
Yay!
Congratulations! I’m glad that went so smoothly for you– you’re incredibly lucky! Nice work with the smile!
Thanks!
Congrats.
The DMV is a scary, soul stealing place. You are a very strong person to have bested the soul sucking. 
Glad everything went well for you.
Thanks, and glad you stopped by, Christy! The DMV was actually pretty well-run, particularly in comparison to places like the Social Security office…