"IF THERE'S A WILL ..."

It's five past twelve. I looked around and, seeing that everybody was leaving, a disquieting feeling of alarm that I had felt earlier intensified. I remained in my seat but started to fidget when even the employees in the DMV office came out from behind the counter that separated them from the license applicants and, carrying either their shoulder bag or attache case, gave their "Have-a-nice-weekend" goodbyes. After a few minutes, I was alone in the section reserved for those waiting for the result of their driving test. I had been told I did not make it but, boy, they just have to make me make it because I wasn't leaving until they do - and that's why I was still there.

I glanced on the far right hand side of the room where my husband was sitting waiting for me. He brought me there so I could take my driving test and was probably wondering what I was waiting for. He saw me looking at him and mouthed "Let's go", but I just shrugged and made no attempt to stand. I looked at the the men standing in front of the room near the counter who were the only ones left besides my husband and me. They were engrossed in conversation and seemingly oblivious that we were still there. One of them was a black man carrying a leather portfolio with the day's newspaper, another was a short white man with a bald crown, and a tall elderly white guy carrying a clipboard. I thought, "One of you, guys, better give me a driver's license NOW because I have no plans to leave until I get it". I was mad because of the utter injustice and unfairness that I had been dealt with. I had been driving all by myself for more than a month already with just my permit (yeah!) and they had the nerve to flunk me 3 times because, once, I could not parallel park, and twice, I was overspeeding! Isn't that a raw deal? Unjustified? Blatantly wrong? Furious and convinced of the unfairness of it all, I made that stubborn resolve that Saturday afternoon in June 1980 in a DMV Licensing Facility in Libertyville, Illinois, that I would not leave without a driver's license. It was after hours and the office was technically closed. How would I pull it off?

A driver's license symbolizes the coming of age for the young, the privilege to drive and operate a motor vehicle, the first step in the bumpy road to becoming a responsible adult. To an adult, a driver's license has more practical applications -being able to drive to and from work, to children's school or activities, and to a myriad of tasks where an adult's life revolve.

Growing up in the Philippines where a driver's license was not a standard part of the educational process, I did not have a valid driver's license when we came to the United States. Although I was in possession of a Philippine driver's license prior to migrating to the U.S., I obtained it through the usual method prevailing in the country at the time - paying the "fee" that went to the pocket of the issuer in the Department of Motor Vehicles, or whatever it was called. I did not even have to appear in person to obtain it, much less undergo the testing process that would prove I was a capable driver. Although we owned a car, there was no emergent need for me to drive because public transportations were available and very accessible, from tricycles, to jeepneys, to buses and cabs. We used the car routinely when the children were with us traveling in the city or for long drives going to the province but the designated driver was always my husband. So why did I get a driver's license? Initially, I really intended to learn how to drive. However, my attempts to acquire the skill were always foiled by my frustration with a car that has a manual transmission that would either stop or lurch forward when I was changing gears. I also tend to watch the side of the road afraid that I would hit the pavement if I didn't, instead of looking straight ahead. A few months after I got the driver's license, we were ready to leave for the United States so I stopped practicing altogether.

In the United States, I soon found out that driving was a must. Here, the inability to drive was synonymous to being an invalid. Although public transportation was widely available, those who did not drive had limited independence because there were time factors and area of operations that needed to be considered. To someone who was fiercely independent like myself, that was unacceptable. Coupled with the fact that I enrolled in the nursing program in a college 12 miles away and the first day of school was that following Monday, being able to drive with a valid driver's license became a dire necessity. So the stubborn streak that would emerge like a fire-spewing dragon when provoked raised its hideous head that day. The Gemini evil twin was again on the rampage focused on "Operation: Driver's License".

I saw the tall elderly gentleman with the clipboard walk to the other side of the counter while the other two men continued their conversation. I stood and approached him and said, "Sir, I took my driving test today." He probably thought I wanted to get the result so he immediately checked the clipboard and said, "Oh, okay, what's your name?" After I responded, he flipped through the papers on the clipboard and after finding my name told me I did not pass. So in my most earnest tone, I said, "Yes, sir, I know. That's why I want to talk to you. Can you just give me my driver's license, please?" He looked at me like I just escaped out of the loony bin. He appeared taken aback by the unconventional request of this tiny Filipina that looked like a brown-skinned urchin, but if he was annoyed, his voice did not betray it. He answered in an adamant though not unkindly tone and said, "Oh no, I can't do that!" But I would not be easily dismissed. "Why not, sir? Just give it to me, please. I have to go to school on Monday and my husband will be at work so I have to drive myself." He knew I already took the driving test three times so he said he could give me another driving test but I had to pay another fee ($8.00 at the time). I told him I did not have any money (I did. I fibbed because I did not want to pay). So he said he could not do it and started to walk away. "Well, that's not going to work, sir", I thought.

I followed him and, like a kid nagging an unbending parent for a forbidden tootsie roll, kept saying, "Come on, sir, just give it to me, sir." He got to the end of the room and turned back. I got to the end of the room and turned back. "I can't do that", he said. "Yes, you can; yes, you can, sir", I said. It was like a chant. So he kept walking and I kept following and repeating, "Come on, sir, just give it to me, please." Finally, after a couple of minutes he stopped, scratched his head (and at that point, I knew I got him!) and said, "All right, where's your key?" "I have it here, sir", I said. He took his clipboard from the counter and we went out to my car. He asked me to just drive around the parking lot which I did. After I re-parked my car, we went back in. He took my picture, processed my driver's license and handed it to me. I couldn't believe it! I was finally clutching in my hand an official, valid, plastic-encased Illinois Driver's License with my name and picture on it! If I had won a million dollars in the State lottery, I could not be any happier. Well, maybe just a tad. I looked at my husband who was still sitting in the same area with a big grin on my face and waved my newly-acquired driver's license to him. There was a bemused look on his face, a how-did-you-do-it expression that was almost funny. After thanking my "benefactor" profusely, we left the facility with me taking the wheels....and my driving adventure began.

Thirty years later, with not a single moving violation (knock on wood), I hope I have made that kind, old man proud, wherever he is. I had a few minor accidents during the early years, such as when my station wagon slipped on the icy school parking lot one winter and hit the car behind me, or when I hit and destroyed a part of the cyclone fence of our first house, but my record is pretty unblemished. Despite the maniacal way I drive at times, I wasn't really reckless, if that makes any sense. I am grateful for such skill that afforded me the opportunity to do a lot of things I would have been incapable to do otherwise, and for that person with a big heart who took pity on a very exasperating little woman who would not give up, that he decided to bend the rules (or die of sheer aggravation). The unorthodox way I obtained my driver's license also proved the veracity of the old adage on perseverance: "If there's a will, there's a way." That Saturday afternoon, my way led me, literally, to the highway.