Like many hopeful international students coming to study in New York, I always romanticize this city as Zootopia in the Disney film, where anyone can be anything, if only you work hard and do your best.
But I quickly realized, as I was applying for a Social Security card for my first job, that the reality is often more complicated.
Before I went on applying, I’ve been hearing all kinds of complaints about how slow they can be picking up your calls from my savvy friends, who told me “you should call them at exactly 9 am” or “just don’t dial the keyboard on your phone so that they will connect you directly with an agent”.
It was January 10, 2022, eight days before I was supposed to get onboard with my company. I called the Social Security Queens Center, where my zip code belongs, exactly at 9 am. After only about 5 attempts, they picked up my phone, (I couldn’t believe my luck back then).
Everything went so smooth during our two-hour interview. The lady seemed to peruse my employment letter, my I20 record very carefully and asked me so many questions. Until she told me the latest available appointment is Jan 21, three days after my onboarding date. To make it worse, it takes up to four weeks for the SSN to arrive, which means I have to push back my onboarding for a month.
Feeling disgruntled, I still booked my appointment according to their rules just like how I was educated in China, to always follow the rules, do the part you are supposed to be doing, and wait for everything else to work out. And my company is also chill about this, saying they understand bureaucracies could take forever so they will wait for me until I receive my card.
But my faith in the system started to fade as time quickly went by. During the last three weeks, I checked my mailbox everyday, jumped every time when I saw an envelope that seemed like a government letter, but got discouraged again when it turned out to be only a tax notice for my Bank of America savings account. I got extremely anxious when my classmates-many of whom are also international students applying for SSN to start their internships, told me they got their SSN in 10 days after appointments in the Manhattan Center.
So many other important things in my life also hinge upon the SSN card-as a student on F1 visa, I need the card to file my tax return for the scholarship I received in 2021, and the tax filing deadline is also approaching. Even Venmo transfers more than $300 requires an identity verification-which requires my SSN number. Without this nine-digit number, I am simply up in the air and cannot do anything.
It was February 21, the date by which they promised to mail me my SSN. My heart sank when I checked my mailbox again-it was so pathetically empty, with not even a promo card from HelloFresh.
I finally decided to act. I called them anxiously, hoping to at least get an approximate time of arrival. But this time I am less lucky-it took me three hours to make through a successful call. Sometimes you hear several short and quick beeps before the person on the other side clearly hangs up the call. Sometimes you wait for 30 minutes to hear a robotic voice saying “We are unavailable to serve you now.” And sometimes they just play soothing music until forever. When I finally got through a call, I had the most ridiculous conversation this year.
“I am sorry miss, your application has been denied because your employment letter was addressed to Diana and your passport says your legal name is Ke.”
“…OK…Why has nobody ever told me about the mistake during the interview when that lady was checking my documents for two hours?”
“I don’t know.”
“Why has nobody ever sent me a notice about this during the last four weeks? Four weeks?”
“I am sorry there might be some problem. But you have to apply again. The earliest appointment date is March 2nd.”
March 2nd. Plus another four weeks of waiting, it means I have to be trapped in this stupid waiting anxiety again for another six weeks. It also means there is only a month left for me to do the internship.
As part of the curriculum for my journalism masters degree, I have to start this internship to get my credit towards graduation-which means I paid $2,000 for this internship as part of my tuition, a job I cannot get started and cannot receive compensation because of their mistake.
Enough. I have to fight for my future and create my own luck-even if it means breaking my timid Asian personality of always being a rule follower and never argue with anyone.
So I called them again every morning of the week, hoping to let them know the urgency of my situation. After endless failed attempts in different Social Security Centers, I got magically reconnected with the same lady who told me my application was denied.
“Hi my name is Ke, I am in an urgent situation here. I need your help.” It was my 50th time speaking this same sentence that day.
“Oh! I think I talked to you a few days before! ” The lady sounded really surprised, and that was the moment I felt like I had a winning chance.
So I told her my story above in a very pushy way. After checking my records for five minutes, she said, “Ok, you can come to the office tomorrow, instead of March 2nd.”
Tomorrow. I couldn’t believe my ears. After endless calls and struggles, it turns out to be so easy, as long as you are pushy enough about your goals.
The next day, I kept my morale up on a freezing and rainy Friday morning, taking the E express train for 45 minutes to Jamaica Center, where the Social Security Center is located. “Be pushy, be bold.” I kept telling myself when my mind swayed away from the Barbarians at the Gate in my hands.
Finally, I walked into that gigantic brown building again. It was super crowded compared to the last time, with about 50 people in a huge hallway waiting to be called out their numbers. I picked up a number from the machine, sat in the nearest seat to the screen for numbers, took a deep breath and closed my eyes.
After waiting anxiously for about an hour and a half, “B60!” It was my number. I picked up my coat and rushed to the counter.
“Hi, my name is Ke, I am in a very urgent situation here…”
I didn’t even finish my sentence. The man sitting across the window was still talking in his earphones, laughing, as if he didn’t see me.
“Hi, excuse me, is it my turn now?” I raised my voice.
He was still talking in his earphone without looking at me. I became really irritated so I knocked on the window. It was then he finally seemed to have noticed me. “How can I help you?”
So I reiterated all of it again in a super urgent voice, “Can you help make it faster? I can’t afford to lose my job!”
But he looked so indifferent about what I was saying. A smile, just like the slot Flash in the Zootopia movie, slowly occupied his face.
“I cannot make it faster,” he said, “I can only proceed with the new application for you.”
Then he started typing at the slowest pace I’ve ever seen. Meanwhile, he spent five minutes staring at one of the empty pages in my passport, as if he has never seen what a Chinese passport looks like.
When he finally started to make copies of my documents, I asked him how long it would take for the card to be mailed. “Within four weeks.” He said.
My heart sank. No. I can’t wait for another four stupid weeks. “I told you this is urgent for me. I need the service immediately. If I lose my job because of this, I will come here everyday.”
“What about two weeks?” He hesitated, crossing off the printed words on a paper statement he was about to hand to me and wrote “two weeks” instead.
“No, it is too long, I need it IMMEDIATELY!”
“I already processed it, actually ideally you will receive it by next week I believe, ” he was prepared to change that paper statement into one week again.
Feeling closer to my victory, I knew I needed something more as a guarantee. “What if I didn’t receive it next week? Can you sign something for me? What if I called again and can’t get it through? Last time it took me three hours.”
“Yes, I can sign something for you,” He signed and sighed, probably never imagining how an Asian girl could get so grumpy.
With another week of anxious waiting and calls, I finally received my SSN card on a Thursday night, which marks an end to the two-month tug-of-war and a beginning with my internship as a reporter. Looking back, I couldn’t believe how easy it could have been if officers at SSA treated their jobs seriously and how even more terrible it could be if I hadn’t pushed harder and fought for my rights.
I am sure I am not the only one who had bad experiences dealing with bureaucracies, but I might be the first one spending so much time writing such a long story about it. Here’s my takeaway of dealing with bureaucracies:
Be pushy. Be bold. Resist the temptation to say “ok, fine” if you don’t feel fine. Pressure them to give you what you deserve.
Disclaimer: This story doesn’t reflect the opinion of NYU Journalism.
