The Patriot Act Makes It Hard for a Woman to Have Two Last Names Amanda Lanzone "We don't like women with three names," the White House guard told me curtly. Every Sunday, as I browse the wedding announcements in The New York Times, I chuckle when I see the oft-repeated line: "The bride will keep her name professionally." "Good luck, sweetheart," I say to myself. You might want to think twice about that. The announcement of my marriage to Michael Putzel ran in The Times on Feb. 24, 1974, and as a newly "liberated woman," which in the early days of the women's movement was a label many of us wore proudly, I was among the first of my generation to keep my name professionally. But I learned early on to switch back and forth. When our children's teachers began calling me Mrs. Putzel, I didn't object. It seemed easier to have a single family name, even if it was a bit confusing when I would leave a message at the school for someone to call "Ann Putzel," and when my office phone rang, I would answer: "Ann Blackman." There was a trend to hyphenate last names to incorporate both spouses, but we didn't like that. Too confusing. In the mid-1980s, my husband and I were assigned by our respective news organizations to cover the former Soviet Union. Reasoning that it would be easier for our family to travel abroad under the same last name, I changed my passport name to Ann Blackman Putzel. During the Clinton administration, I was invited to a White House Christmas party for the news media. When I arrived at the Northwest gate, the Secret Service officer would not let me in because the invitation was addressed to "Ann Blackman." My ID, a driver's license, which by then had been changed to conform to my passport, read "Ann Blackman Putzel." "We don't like women with three names," the guard said curtly. "Tell that to Hillary Rodham Clinton," I replied. He did not let me in. More recently, thanks to the ever-tightening web of the Patriot Act, which falls under the rubric of homeland security, it has become almost impossible for a woman to juggle two last names. Last summer, I went to the post office to have our Blackman & Putzel mailing address temporarily changed and produced my driver's license as ID. The postal clerk told me that the license had expired. Horrified and embarrassed, I went immediately (by Metro) to the Department of Motor Vehicles to have my license renewed, carrying the expired document and my passport as proof of identity. The inspector told me that for identification purposes, I would also need to produce my Social Security card. I returned the next day with the card, which identified me as "Blackman." All official forms of identification must be under the same name, the official said. I went immediately to the nearest Social Security Administration office, only to find that to change the name on my card, I would have to produce a marriage certificate. When my husband finally found it at the bottom of the safe deposit box, we realized that it didn't help much. All it said was that Ann Blackman married Michael Putzel. When I returned to the Social Security office with the folded, yellowed paper in hand, a different official told me that the decision to take my husband's name was supposed to be made within two years of marriage. Close to tears, I replied, "But we didn't have all these laws back then." The official, who herself was of a certain age, smiled and quietly did the paperwork to process the change. Officially, I am now Ann Blackman Putzel.