Imagine yourself back at 16. You are young and ambitious with bright eyes and unprecedented excitement to get that power to drive. After a few minutes of sitting in the DMV waiting room, your number is called, and you approach the desk. Your mother assures you that the DMV worker has seen it all, and so processing a foreign adopted child’s first driver’s license would be no big deal, right?

“Sorry, we cannot give Olivia a driver’s license because she is not Olivia.”

My mother tried to argue a case, pulling out Chinese documents and adoption papers this way and that, but we could not believe the hard truth: I was not Olivia, and I had not been for the last 16 years of my life. The teller explained that while the Chinese papers officiated an American adoption, they did not authorize a change of name. To add to our shock and frustrations, the worker also told us that I was not a citizen of the United States and that my permanent resident card, my proof of lawful living, had expired. We left defeated with complex emotions about the entire situation. That was only the beginning.

In the months to come, we visited our state’s local offices of U.S. Citizenship and Immigration Services, Social Security, Vital Statistics, and Family Court. They all told us what the DMV worker essentially explained and hardly resolved the over-arching issue. I cannot remember a time when we did not leave an office disappointed or let down. We gathered more papers to prove I was adopted, but nothing to prove I was Olivia in name and a official United States Citizen. Surprisingly, we got the best answers through internet research.

Around the time I was adopted, rumors had been circulating that a law would pass that made foreign adopted children automatically citizens of the United States. This would mean that foreign children adopted under the age of 18 would not have to undergo the rigorous naturalization testing and wait to be processed to receive officiating documents. The INA 320 Act relieved the parents adopting after February 2001 of this process, and children received citizenship and the papers to prove it.

INA 320 Act also covered children adopted before this date who were under age 18. However, while the act covered automatic citizenship for these children, families did not automatically receive the proving documents and still had to go through the tedious application process. My family did not know about the technicality, and today we face unforeseen consequences.

Three years after that bumpy ride that started at the DMV, my family and I are still on a turbulent voyage to resolve my name and United States citizenship. My story might not be a medically diagnosed identity crisis, but it absolutely made me question my place here in America and who I am to this nation. Currently, I cannot vote in this upcoming election, unable to register without proof of citizenship. I cannot get my own bank account in a name I have only ever known. I can work, but I have to constantly explain this situation and hope they will accept a permeant resident worker. I drive under my Chinese name not protected by the United States and fear the day if I ever get pulled over. Despite living in the United States all my life, I am not secured for the benefits that are America’s pride and joy.

Currently, my family is waiting for a Certificate of Citizenship, which is dual proof of name change and citizenship. Nevertheless, if we ever receive the certificate, I will not be able to live my life comfortably as Olivia for a while.