Before dawn, people wait hours to take a routine driver’s test, with a twist

In the darkness before dawn, a line of more than 100 people snaked from the sidewalk, past a playset and to the front doors of a former elementary school in Southwest Baltimore.

Some had arrived as early as 4:30 that morning to the building, now home to a resource hub. They were there to claim one of the limited spots that open monthly for the learner’s permit test.

It’s the same multiple-choice exam that every driver in Maryland must pass, with 25 questions about the rules of the road, from the meaning of traffic signs to how to drive in bad weather.

But here there’s a twist: A proctor reads the questions out loud.

Since 2023, more than 3,800 people have passed the read-aloud permit test offered at nonprofit UEmpower of Maryland, according to Christine Nizer, head of Maryland’s Motor Vehicle Administration.

The demand for this service lays bare the extent to which some struggle with the foundational skill of reading in Baltimore, where an estimated 81,000 adults do not have a high school diploma.

The partnership also attempts to address other challenges, Nizer said. Hosting the test at a community-based organization can shorten the distance to travel. It also provides more comfortable, supportive space for anxious test takers.

All those factors have helped turn it into an immensely popular service. All 120 spots were claimed before 8 a.m. one recent Friday. Dozens of latecomers walked away disappointed.

To many, the permit test may seem like an unremarkable box to tick on the way to adulthood. But for some it can be a monumental hurdle.

At the head of the line was Alvis Murphy, 53, who said he has failed the test about a dozen times in recent months.

Murphy lives in the surrounding neighborhood marred with hundreds of dilapidated vacant rowhomes. Getting a driver’s license would finally allow him to leave the city and build a new life in South Carolina, he said.

For everyone in line, a license meant freedom to navigate the world on their own terms.

“I’m tired of the bus,” said 26-year-old Jordan Montgomery.

Maurice White, 62, who has six kids and 16 grandchildren across the city, wanted to visit family more easily.

For 56-year-old Charlese Jones, she realized that “it’s time to do things the right way” after getting pulled over for driving without a license.

Researchers have found that populations which have been historically marginalized from housing, education and employment opportunities have disproportionately lower rates of licensure.

At the same time, studies show that access to cars can help low-income households achieve upward mobility. And those who drive without valid licenses are more likely to cause crashes.

In Baltimore’s Black neighborhoods in particular, transportation barriers stand in the way of stable employment for many, according to a February report from the Abell Foundation.

Even after passing the permit test, people must take driver’s education classes that can cost hundreds of dollars and pay high car insurance rates, especially in Baltimore. It is often harder and more expensive to become a driver in Maryland than in comparable states, the report found.

Michelle Suazo, founder and executive director of UEmpower of Maryland, has seen firsthand the difference a license can make.

She hires young people from the surrounding community to operate UEmpower of Maryland’s resource hub, which includes several nonprofit partners and a program called The Food Project. They cook meals, pass out clothing and diapers and connect people with needed resources.

The organization began partnering with the MVA in 2023 after Suazo realized that several employees, dealing with traumatic pasts and learning disabilities, had trouble understanding the questions on permit tests. Some were also missing critical identification documents needed to obtain a license.

In one case, employee Darnell Turner was finally able to pass the test in 2023 after failing it for years. Turner had dropped out of high school to sell drugs and support his family, he said.

Today, 31-year-old Turner is driving across the region to pick up food donations for the nonprofit and deliver 600 meals a week.

“Now I’m on a new chapter,” he said with a grin.

On that recent Friday, organizers started by splitting test takers into four scheduled rounds.

Anxiously waiting for his turn in the testing room, Cornell Jefferson passed the time by listening to music and making small talk with people around him.

Dyslexia and a lack of a high school degree had not stopped the 26-year-old from becoming a manager at Funnel Cake King and starting his own juice company, he said. But without a license, he must walk two to three hours some days to get to work.

Passing the test, Jefferson said, would put him on a path to a raise and an opportunity to expand his business outside Maryland.

Shortly before 10:30 a.m., Jefferson and 29 others filed into a community room, where pencils and multiple-choice answer sheets awaited them.

Sitting at tables, some laid their heads down to rest while others nervously tapped their feet.

Then the MVA test proctor announced they were about to begin.

“The key is to listen to the questions. I’m going to say congratulations in advance,” the proctor said, before beginning to read each question twice, speaking slowly and carefully.

The read-aloud test is part of a wider effort to improve accessibility, said Nizer, the head of the MVA. Three years ago, officials rewrote the test and driving manual in easier-to-understand “plain language,” she said. The change was in response to a request from a mother whose son with learning disabilities had repeatedly failed the written test. Since then, 15% more people have passed, she said.

The MVA also offers a variety of accommodations at its offices: tests in 17 different languages, no time limit, computerized text-to-speech or read aloud by an employee.

The popularity of the monthly tests at UEmpower of Maryland has prompted the MVA to explore partnerships with other community organizations, including in East Baltimore, she said.

After the test takers filled in their last answers, they lined up silently in the hallway to await their results. More than three wrong answers meant they failed.

One by one, the proctor began reading out the names of those who passed.

For the employees of The Food Project, it’s the best part of the day. Facilities manager Judson Davenport recalled watching a man fall to his knees and cry with joy after learning he had passed the test on his 31st attempt earlier this year. Nearly 75% of test takers have passed here, compared to about 57% statewide, according to the MVA.

In the hallway that day, Ky’Leah Gray hugged her 16-year-old sister with a squeal after learning both had passed.

“I’m happy,” Gray said. “I cannot believe it.”

Before they left, Gray made a stop on the second floor of the resource hub, where The Franciscan Center was helping people get documents like birth certificates and Social Security cards. She’ll need to bring proof that she passed the test as well as identification documents to an MVA office to obtain her learner’s permit.

Gray hasn’t had a Social Security card since her mother lost it years ago, she said.

Once she gets it, the 27-year-old said, she’ll also be able to finally open a bank account and start building her credit.

Gray was among only a handful of people that day who passed the test from each round.

For others, like Jefferson, it was not yet time to celebrate.

As he walked out of the building, he vowed to return and try again.