La licencia de conducir - Jose Castro
The license
Author's Note: This is the first of many other short stories that I will be publishing in The Chronicles of Justice. They are based on real life events. I thank Danielle Castillejo for inviting her to be part of this prestigious blog, and the Kitsap Latinx Collective for her unconditional support in serving as a voice against oppression in all its forms.
When I arrived in Bremerton, one of my first stops was the Department of Licensing (DOL). Already inside the unsightly office, smelly due to the wet carpets and the tired expression of many of its employees, - also poorly paid, perhaps - sighing at the endless kilometer-long line that almost went out the door, a lady asked an employee for help to to give you a replacement driver's license.
- “Things have been damaged, before this was a one-day procedure.” The lady said to the employee, who we will call Ken.
- “Sorry ma'am, now everything comes by mail.” Ken expressed.
In the face of such a claim, there were completely deaf ears. It didn't matter his particular situation, nor that he needed it on an emergency basis. He needed his license to have a photo ID to go on a trip.
- “I beg you, please, I need my license today!” Ella-Le complained and continued saying, “Tomorrow at dawn, I have to go to SeaTac. I'm going on a trip to see my family, and yesterday my belongings were stolen from my car in front of the Kitsap Bank and the Starbucks on Warren and 6th. Avenue."
- “I am so sorry, ma'am, but here I give you this little paper. It works just like a driver's license. “It has a barcode and this would be your provisional license.”
- “I need a photo ID to travel, I don't have anything else!” The lady told him, desperate and almost completely crying. I realized it just by looking at her face.
-“I am very sorry, ma'am” Ken (the employee) told her in his customer service voice.
After that I am sorry, the lady leaves, defeated by the bureaucracy. The line remained unchanged, everyone looking down at their Instagrams, Twitter, and Facebook timelines. Nobody seemed to care. It is not surprising, in the name of government efficiency and conservative visions, the ghost of bureaucratic and soft capitalism is so normalized, that it is not until when you visit one of these agencies that you realize the harsh reality. This nation's government system can reach the Moon, send space probes to Mars, but it cannot afford to have a laminator and a good heater in an office as important as the DOL. In a county where by 2022 more than 260,000 cars pass through its streets according to statistics from that same department, how come there can't be a laminator for citizens who wish to have their license on the same day?
Using this example, systemic oppression is very evident, having equipment in the licensing office is very expensive, and you know, my taxpayer money can't afford that. They steal our taxes from our faces.
However, this story does not end here. This one who tells the story was next in line. The ghost of inefficiency, engendered and normalized in that office, was present when Ken shouted at the top of his voice:
- “Next in line, please. How can I help you?”
With my first-time English, I explained my situation to him. I told him that I was from Puerto Rico, that I hadn't arrived that long ago, and that I needed to change my license because I established my address.
At that moment Ken's eyes turned. He gave me the long-awaited bureaucratic lecture from him. He told me that for out of country licenses, unfortunately, he had to pass the driving test again.
- “Can you help me understand why the Puerto Rico License is out of country for you?” I looked at him with the same lettuce face that he gave me.
- “What do you need to understand?” Ken frowned.
- “Why is it out of country?” I asked him again...
-“Puerto Rico?” He kind of asked me. "But that's outside the country."
- "No, it's not outside the country," I told him. "Puerto Rico is a territory of the United States."
He continued with his theatrical act looking for the paper manuals, which he never found. He ran around the office looking for his supervisor who had apparently gone on break. One of his colleagues told him to look for the manuals on the Internet, which were on the di-o-him website. Ken told me that I had to attend to the next person because “I was holding the line… and that I will get back to you as soon my supervisor is here, though, I am pretty confident that Puerto Rico is out of country because it is overseas and these type of driver's licenses need to pass the drivers test again.
- “That's impossible! I read the DOL guides last night! Puerto Rico is not out of country, even that I look like someone outside of this country!” I told him firmly, remembering the lady he served before. I got the impression that Ken simply didn't even want to be in that office. I swear that right there, he served me with the old reliable: “you need to calm down.”
-I am not moving from here. I just did the line and waited for almost an hour. I am not waiting for another one.
He looked at me in a bad way, I got angry. It took less than a minute to consult the online manual when he found a reference to Puerto Rico licenses.
The same manual that he read to me said very clearly that Puerto Rico was out of state and not out of country. While he was quoting the paragraph to me, he interrupted himself and told me, “I'm pretty sure that Puerto Rico's license needs to pass the exam again, but I need to consult with my manager just to be sure.
- “You bastard, I got you” I told him intelligibly.
-What was that?
-Nothing. I replied
The manager arrived with the aromatic smell of McDonald's chips. As an aside, I was impressed by the apparent equality of capitalism. The chips here in Bremerton and in Puerto Rico smell the same. Actually, I confess, they taste the same, I have tried them in both places. I'm sure many of you do too.
To my surprise and blessing, his manager broke it down the middle with his response. He told him that not only Puerto Rico, but Guam, Hawaii, and other US territories and protectorates were only swap the license and that's all.
Ken turned his eyes again, took the photo of me and charged me the amount with my bank card from Banco Popular de PR. “Do you see? It works,” I told him, referring to the card transaction.
Unmoved, Ken gave me the “little piece of paper” with the barcode. He didn't even ask me for proof of residency. God Bless America. I could have said that he lived on Calle Boquete, Esquina Tapón, 4to. Floor, 3rd. Step, Bremerton WA, 98310.
I left that office, super proud of my piece of paper, and although I waited three weeks for my license to arrive in the mail, I thank my mother for making me so brave. Being a flock lamb is no longer fashionable, to put an end to inefficiency we must be ready to always fight the oppression back.
José Castro is a native Puerto Rican teacher and librarian with a Master of Information and Library Sciences from the University of Puerto Rico and a Bachelor of Secondary Education. José is also a human rights activist. He is passionate about serving underserved communities, and has worked with local Kitsap communities, including Latinx, as well as educational and library institutions in Puerto Rico. José is also an avid outdoors enthusiast who loves backpacking, camping, and hiking. He came to Washington in 2017 after a natural disaster in Puerto Rico, where he lived for 34 years. The Kitsap community has adopted him since his arrival.
