A New Lease On Life

It’s the third Thursday of March in Florida. It’s surprisingly cold.

A woman stands in line at The Salvation Army nervously gripping the handles of the wheelchair in front of her where her elderly mother sits. The woman is pretty sure this IDignity thing is too good to be true.

Recently she met someone at her church who told her an organization called IDignity would be able to help her replace her stolen ID. Despite the doubts swirling around in her head, she is in line at IDignity. She needs a new ID to be able to renew her lease before a fast-approaching deadline. She brought her mother because Mom needs a valid ID to be able to see a doctor.

As she worries about what she will do when this doesn’t work, a man with a mustache and a red IDignity shirt walks up to the woman and her mother. He has a stack of numbered cards and a clipboard.

The man introduces himself, “Good morning, my name is Charlie. What is your name?”

Looking down at Charlie’s out-stretched hand, the woman extends her own. This handshake is a kindness she hasn’t encountered throughout all of her struggles to replace her ID. As she feels herself begin to trust Charlie, and IDignity, she says “Hi, my name is Pam…”

–  –  –

It’s the third Thursday in August in Florida. It’s hot.

Pam stands in line at The Salvation Army, gripping the handles of the wheelchair in front of her. A couple of months back, after their birth certificates arrived, Pam and her mother received their new gold star IDs.

Pam (right) with her neighbor (center) and the woman who introduced her to IDignity (left)

On the day Pam got her ID, she told IDignity she intended to come back and volunteer. But today, she is not at IDignity to volunteer.

She is in line with a neighbor from her low-income housing complex. Her neighbor also needs an ID to be able to sign her lease. Luckily, Pam knew exactly who could help.

Pam knows the journey from anonymity to identity, from fear to hope. She now calls herself a walking billboard for IDignity, continuing to bring others to a place where they can find hope, too.

Identification: A Nightmare

Maria Soto is your average 21st century woman. Although she still uses the name of her first husband, that marriage has become part of the past and she now lives on her own.

Recently, Maria lost her job working at a local college. Though the job was stressful at times, she enjoyed working there and was not looking forward to searching for new work.

Before Maria could even think about starting to look for a new job, she realized her ID had expired. “Even if I could get a job interview, they wouldn’t hire me without that little card,” Maria thought to herself.

As she considered what this meant, a chill overcame her. Maria would have to go to the D ­- M – V!

From the moment Maria stepped into the DMV waiting room, something felt different. No one made eye contact with her, and when they did look her way, it was like they were looking right through her – as if she was invisible. So, when her number was finally called, Maria was relieved that the teller could at least see and hear her.

Maria presented her birth certificate, Social Security card, and proofs of address to the teller.

“I’m sorry. Soto is your married name?” the DMV employee asked. “Because the name on your Social Security card and the name on your birth certificate don’t match, we’ll need to see your marriage license to be able to issue an ID.”

Starting to feel tense, Maria replied, “I would have to go to Illinois to get my marriage license. How would I even get there? I can’t fly without an ID!”

The teller repeated, “I’m sorry. Because the name on your Social Security card and the name on your birth certificate don’t match, we’ll need to see your marriage license to be able to
issue an ID.”

Maria again replied, slowly losing her patience, “I have no way of getting that marriage license. I can’t move on with my life until I get this ID. There has to be another way.”

Once again, the teller replied, “I’m sorry. Because the name on your Social Security card and the name on your birth certificate don’t match, we’ll need to see your marriage license to be able to issue an ID.”

Maria looked at the teller who was beginning to sound like a broken record. Until that moment, Maria had not noticed the sleek, polished, distinct features of the teller, and she had not noticed that every other teller in the row looked exactly the same.

Startled by this revelation, Maria stumbled back from the counter shouting, “Are there any real people in this place?!”

The room fell silent. No one in the waiting room moved. They didn’t react to Maria’s cries for help at all. It was as if none of them could see or hear her.

Maria turned and waved her hand in front of the blank stare of a woman seated at the end of one of the rows of chairs in the waiting room. As the woman slowly turned to look at her, Maria could hear the low hum of cogs and motors rotating inside the woman’s head.

Terrified and screaming at the top of her lungs, Maria shot out of bed, taking a moment to realize that it was all just a dream. Her anxiety of going to the DMV tomorrow was really getting to her.

The next morning, Maria made it to the DMV despite still being a little shaken from her nightmare. When her number was finally called, she gathered her things and approached the teller window with the necessary documents. As she handed over the documents, Maria took a good look at the strangely familiar-looking teller.

The teller smiled and began to sort through Maria’s documents. A moment later, Maria heard the teller say, “I’m sorry, Maria. Soto is your married name? Because the name on your Social Security card and the name on your birth certificate don’t match, we’ll need to see your marriage license to be able to issue an ID.”

Maria’s heart skipped a beat. “This can’t be happening,” she thought.

Then the teller continued, “Fortunately, we work closely with an organization that can help you. It’s called IDignity.”

Written by Ben Jimenez

Unsung Heroes: This Husband-Wife Team Are Pushing the Boundaries of Volunteerism

This Husband-Wife Team Are Pushing the Boundaries of Volunteerism

Written by Marcia Heath

It’s the third Thursday of the month, and Emily Ann and Gene Zimmerman are putting the final touches on the breakfast buffet. Their day began well before dawn and won’t end until they’ve provided nourishment—bagels, pastries, fresh fruit, coffee and tea, ice-cold drinks, homemade brownies and a hearty lunch donated by a local restaurant—to 150 grateful volunteers.

IDignity’s mission is what inspires this Orlando couple to set the alarm for 5 a.m. and spend hours on their feet, month after month. That’s amazing in itself, but especially for this husband-wife team.

Emily Ann is 87, Gene 90. At IDignity, an organization that attracts exceptional volunteers, the Zimmermans stand out for their unstoppable enthusiasm and dedication to the cause.

Gene, a retired United Methodist minister, and Emily Ann are proof of what research is discovering about altruism: People who volunteer lead longer, healthier lives. But not all volunteer experiences are created equal. And volunteering isn’t exactly “free” when you factor in expenditures of time and energy. There is an art and science to effective volunteerism, as the Zimmerman’s story reveals.

When did you first hear about IDignity?

Emily Ann: It was nine years ago when I first remember hearing about the idea from friends at First United Methodist Church. It took a good year of planning and meetings before IDignity officially got its start. I jumped in right away on the hospitality team, and that’s where I’ve been ever since.

Gene: I heard the story of a young fellow—IDignity’s founder, Michael Dippy—who was out walking one night with friends. When a homeless person on the street asked them for a handout, one of Michael’s friend shouted out, “Go get a job” and kept walking. But Michael went back and asked the man what else he needed. “I need identification,” he replied. That one comment started the whole process going in Michael’s brain.

What was your first impression?

Emily Ann:  It struck me as an extremely worthy cause. For people who don’t have their identification, we could help them get it—what an easy thing to do. Well, maybe not easy, but definitely doable and needed. Until I got involved with IDignity, I just figured identification was something everyone had. I didn’t realize how many people are disenfranchised because they lack it.

Gene: I got excited listening to Emily Ann talk about what was going on at IDignity and saw her getting up at the crack of dawn to get breakfast ready for all the volunteers. I got to thinking, I can’t let her do that all by herself. So a few years ago, when I had the time, I started volunteering, too.

Gene Zimmerman celebrating IDignity’s 100th monthly event

Emily Ann wears the red IDignity T-shirt in the family—she leads the hospitality team. How does that work out for you as a couple?

Gene: It’s important in life to have clear expectations. At IDignity, I’m Emily Ann’s assistant. When she says get up and get the drinks on ice, I do whatever she asks. I’m proud to wear the blue T-shirt in the family.

Over time, have you seen the needs changing?

Emily Ann: There’s still a huge need for the services IDignity offers. The clients are lined up outside the door every month, and 100-plus volunteers are here to give them a hand. The faithfulness of our volunteers is really quite amazing. The same core group is here, month after month. And Jackie and her whole legal team are wonderful detectives, piecing together the puzzle for people who may not even know where they were born.

Emily Ann Zimmerman serving up slices of pizza for our hardworking volunteers

What motivates you to keep coming back?

Emily Ann: I feel valued. Every month the volunteers are so responsive. They thank us for the smallest thing—a cold drink or a piece of fruit—when we should be thanking them; they’re the ones working with the clients.

One of the Michael’s great skills as a leader is keeping his eye on the volunteers. He cares about our welfare. He will not allow us to serve a cracker or potato chip that’s even one day past the expiration date. He has that kind of fervor for the mission.

Gene: I can clearly see the impact of what we’re doing. In that line of 300 people, waiting before daybreak, not one person has proper identification. They start the day invisible—they’re legal nobodies. When they leave later that day, half of them will have some form of identification in their pocket. Now they can register their kids in school, ride a Greyhound bus, cash a check, find a place to live and apply for a job. Seeing the radical shift that can take place in a person’s life is incredibly motivating. IDignity gives hundreds of people a year that gift of hope.

A letter from your Orlando Chief of Police, John Mina

IDignity is grateful for the ongoing support of the Orlando Police Department and the safety they provide our community. Below you will find a letter from your Orlando Chief of Police, John Mina.

Letter from Orlando Police Chief, John Mina