The USA is a complicated place for an undercover Canadian transplant
Written by Grier King
Hello, my name is Grier, and I am not a citizen of the great United States of America.
I am, however, a permanent resident of the state of California and have lived out most of my life here. I crossed the border legally through Buffalo, New York, in the 90s and received my Green Card in Los Angeles in 2004. I have received all of my schooling in California and now work here in Los Angeles.
My father, mother, two cats, one dog and I came to California because my father’s work in film and television sound design was coming into vogue in Hollywood, and he was in high demand. We (or, they, as my hands were too tiny to lift anything and my cognition wasn’t developed quite yet) packed up our home in Pickering, Ontario, Canada, and made the trek to California by car. We left every one of our family members and friends behind, hoping that our life in the Golden State would be worth the loss.
In many ways, it has been. However, exceptions are life’s specialty.
I’ve spent my life in California. The only way this state has ever betrayed me is by perpetually denying me a tan of any sort, which means that my ridiculously alabaster skin is the only thing that aesthetically distinguishes me from those with the classic California tan. My accent is also often a dead-giveaway (according to all of my friends, even though I can’t quite tell the difference), as even though I grew up here, I’ve learned that language is largely developed in the home, and not so much in the classroom.
One thing that I’ve noticed is that, as a white non-Hispanic, I can go through my days without a single person being suspicious of my legal status. I’ve always thought this to be fucked up, as California’s population is largely Latino, and more of them are here legally than you might think. According to the U.S. Department of Homeland Security, more than 80 percent of California’s Latino population is here legally and, lately, it has been determined that the population growth in this state in particular has been caused largely by high birth rates and low death rates, and not from immigration. This truth has always made me feel like a liar: a non-citizen white girl in southern California whose legal status is never questioned by a passerby, whilst the born-in-America Latinos are discriminated against every day as, according to NBC, one out of every 3 Americans think the majority of Latinos are here illegally.
Because people consistently assume my nationality, I’ve noticed a trend in how they respond to learning of my legal status.
The first is a very strange indignation at my personal choice to continue to identify myself as Canadian, leading me to feel the unnecessary need to defend myself. Yes, I’ve spent my life in California. However, my entire family (with the exception of my parents and one uncle) still lives in Canada. I’ve spent countless summers and Christmases in Canada. I am at my happiest where I am surrounded by the people I love in a place that I love, and that is why I still call Canada home.
The second is a seemingly complete lack of comprehension as to why I have no current or past interest in pursuing citizenship. When I renewed my Green Card, a large number of people assumed I was pursuing citizenship; they congratulated me, without asking anything about the situation, and said they were excited I was converting, even though I never mentioned anything of the sort.
There has been more than one occasion in which a person actually became upset at my lack of interest in citizenship, and that baffles me. Yes, I love the States; Yes, I have been here for a long time and will be here longer; Yes, I think that the power to vote is important on a gargantuan scale…but that does not automatically deem citizenship as something inherent or necessary to my future. I argue that permanent residency, although lacking the privilege to vote on national issues, is not a negation of the greatness of the USA. I engage in debate, I’ve lobbied at the state capitol and, as a journalist, I strive to share knowledge, opinion, and fact with people so that they can make more informed decisions when they exercise their power to vote.
I also feel as though being in in a position of legal limbo allows me the opportunity to remain outside of the States in terms of ideology, patriotism, and wrongdoing. Some may accuse me of taking the coward’s route, but I personally feel empowered by the fact that I can invest in a country and partake in its politics, but can also step back when I need or want to think more seriously about what it means to be a part of this country. Denying myself the title “American” allows me to see the States from both the inside and from a distance and to make choices and form opinions that aren’t swayed by patriotism or emotional ties to my opinion of the country itself. Reminding myself that the US is my home but not my mother allows me a certain amount of clear-headedness when considering her habits and her culture, and that is invaluable to me.
Living my life as a permanent resident has been a gift. It has allowed me to build a life, a home, and a community in the States, whilst also allowing me to return to my roots when the need or desire arises. It has allowed me both perspective and insight as a person who is enveloped by American culture but whose ability to participate in it is ultimately restricted. Being a permanent resident means that I am both at home and abroad all at once; that I have been formed in immense ways by a country to which I do not formally belong.
Being a non-citizen is not a shameful thing. There are communities across this country in which non-citizens are, at times, the most active members. Lacking citizenship does not inherently signal lack of interest, engagement, or love for the States, just as it does not signal greed and laziness. Perhaps citizens should shift some focus to quality of engagement and participation instead of status, and strive to understand the truth that even though non-citizens were not born in the States, this is where we choose to make our present and our future. This is where we choose to make our home.
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