Late last year, I took on Australian citizenship after four years of permanent residency. It seemed the natural and logical thing to do. It was my way of expressing gratitude for the opportunities presented to me when arriving in this country – and a commitment to a life Down Under and my wife’s home.
However, during those previous four years, I had become increasingly uncomfortable with the notion of taking on citizenship. It was not a part of the plan when we reached this place on our search for a life less ordinary and I remained unconvinced that it was what I wanted or needed.
I had always been content to call myself an expat. The term adequately defined my place in the world – a restless and transient soul, happy to base myself in any number of exotic locales with no requirement to put down roots and free from commitment to any one country, able to pack up and move on whenever the mood should take me.
We expats are an intriguing breed. Through our lives lived in different countries, we are self-titled experts in the cultures of the world. Travelling the globe on generous budgets, we share stories of international adventure with envious acquaintances back home. We work in expensive office towers in far-flung destinations like Dubai or Singapore and we single-handedly deal with separation from family, disconnectivity from the motherland, alienation from the ‘locals’, and acceptance into expatriate communities. Expats are a versatile, interesting bunch and I was more than happy to be in this gang.
 |
| Photo credit: Flickr Creative Commons Jjcb |
New citizens, however, were an altogether different proposition. Comparable to the dull guy who settles down with the long-term girlfriend in his early twenties, new citizens belong to the ‘tied down’ group. They resemble the boring crowd who marry into their overseas life for lengthy periods of time, assimilate into the suburban neighbourhood with neither a mutter nor moan, and surrender their birthright for an alternate identity, warts and all, for better or worse, no doubt in their mind. The thought of his existence unnerved me.
Furthermore, I had never really considered myself much of a ‘new Australian’ upon arrival in this country. I was firmly a British expat living away from home on a journey of self-discovery and life in Sydney was only one part of this plan. In fact, I was quite the sorry Australian, unwilling to follow the local game of rugby league, failing to appreciate the joys of ocean swimming with the sharks, not partial to the palm-sized spiders crawling out of the woodwork on a damp autumn evening, and unable to fathom the determined passion for the good ole Australian Ute.
In pondering Aussie citizenship, I could almost hear the people of Britain demanding my head amidst cries of treason and disloyalty. Family would be unhappy with my decision, friends from home would turn their attention elsewhere, and meanwhile I would struggle with my confused identity in a land far from familiarity. Doomed to a life of the in-between, no longer able to call myself an expat but not quite the genuine Bruce or Stevo, I would be unable to relax into my new environment for fear of offending my English ties. I would be the ‘pretend’ new citizen living a lie.
Surprisingly, in the face of my apparent ‘un-Australianness’ and strong desire to remain an ‘expatriate’, I had inadvertently become more appreciative of Australia over time. Without realising it, my unease with rugby league had pushed me towards the rival code of union. My fear of the resident critters had increased my awareness of the outstanding natural environment. I still did not understand the Ute but could relate to the desire to drive a fast car.
More unusually, my appreciation of this new homeland had in fact deepened my admiration for the country of my birth. While embracing my new home and all of the experiences it offered me, I still nurtured a deep affection for those memories and favourite things that only dear old Blighty could give me. It therefore seemed I could be both a citizen of my wife’s young country and an expat from the old world.
 |
| Photo credit: Flickr Creative Commons Dicktay2000 |
Taking on a new nationality had become my guilty little secret. I had feared its anticipated restrictions and the many things I would give up. These initial worries never eventuated and, if anything, my life is now fuller and more rounded. I have two nationalities, not just one. Two allegiances and two chances to vote. Two delightful locations to share with my family and two places to come home to. And I continue to view myself as a British expat who enjoys a life less ordinary through my dual nationality.
To those who argue that the British coming to Australia must surely describe themselves as ‘migrants’ or ‘new Australians’, rather than ‘expats’, to bond with the country and its people, I say “get with the times”.
You can be British. You can be Australian. But, of all things, you will always be an expat of the world.
So what are you? Expat, new citizen or both?
congrats on the Citizenship!
Why, thanking you kindly!
Congrats! Me, I’m a non citizen of this country yet, not yet a footy lover too. But I do appreciate many things about Australia and I love the myriad of cultures present here. It’s a wonderful chance to learn about the world while staying in one place. 🙂
Congratulations on getting your citizenship! It’s great being an expat, but it blurs the boundaries of your “home” culture and value system with that of the new country, or countries. I’m from Germany originally but haven’t lived there in almost a decade. Having lived in Britain for 6 years, 5 of which in London, I feel more British than German in many ways. That stops when it comes to football though! 🙂
I really enjoyed this post. I loved the part where you talked about your hesitation about becoming a citizen. I never thought about it in a sense of “settling down.” But now that I think about it, I’m sure I would feel the same way! Congrats on getting your citizenship!
Hi Marikoy and thanks for the congrats! I find Australia a lot like Canada in that many different people from a number of cultures share the same space – this equals great culinary diversity and makes for interesting conversations with co-workers and friends. Life is never dull here for sure!
Hi Christina and thanks again for the congrats! I love your comment about the football – some things must not, and can’t, ever change and I’m the same when it comes to the English-Australian sporting rivalry… watching the cricket in Sydney this year was a highlight for me. Supporting the country of my birth from the country I now live in. It brought everything together quite nicely, especially when England won 🙂
Hey Lauren, great to see you back here!
It was only when it came to actually getting citizenship that it started to feel ‘real’ and like settling down. The end of the journey-type feelings.
I still think it was the right thing to do and I didn’t lose anything in the process or give anything up. It was funny swearing allegiance to the Queen from Australia though 🙂
Expat. And citizen of the world. 🙂
Andrea
This post really resonates with me. I was an immigrant first, then became an expat. When I emigrated to Canada from the UK 30-odd years ago I was determined to become Canadian. For me, it was an either/or decision, cast off the old, embrace the new. During the 15 years I spent globetrotting I was always dismayed to be taken for a Brit due to my persistent British accent. But now that I’ve repatriated to Canada and am again feeling like a stranger, I’m starting to question exactly how Canadian I am. I’m slowly coming to the realization that I’m a hybrid, a bit Brit, a bit Canuck and a bit of all the other places I’ve lived too. And most importantly that it’s OK to be both/all.
Good on you, Andrea. Moi aussi 🙂
Hi expatriatelife,
Glad you like the post!
I can imagine it was more a case of ‘all or nothing’ when it came to moving country ’30-odd years ago’. Everybody was less connected, you generally moved once overseas in your lifetime, and I’m sure it was the done thing.
Nowadays, people seem much more transient – we’ve moved country twice already – so to give up your old identity for a new one when you may be on the move again at some point seems almost foolhardy. I agree that you can be a bit of this and a bit of that, not forgetting your roots, but also embracing new places. It is definitely alright to be both.
Cheers,
Russell
More than 20 years ago I decided to become an immigrant and I was determined to assimilate into my “new” home country. Yet things didn’t quite work out that way. 🙂 I felt constrained to live in just one place… and 20 years later I still have an overwhelming desire to move around and live in different countries. Maybe it’s my childhood that was spent in awe of the “foreign” that was disallowed (I grew up behind the iron curtain) or maybe it’s just curiosity and love of adventure. Either way — I am an expat and a global nomad… and actually I would not mind having several citizenships, why not!
Thanks for a great post!
@globalcoachcenter – Thanks for your comments and very interesting insights… After 8 years, I still feel constrained by being in one place only. Curiosity definitely plays a big part in it but also a desire to keep improving and building on my life. I wonder just how many citizenships a person can have…? Hope to see you here again!
Congrats dude…having more than one citizenship will come in handy pre-apocalypse 🙂
@Dino – Thanks mate. I’m starting to store these nationalities up for a rainy day 🙂
Forgive me for the somewhat philosophical nature of this response, but this is a topic on which I’ve spent much time discussing with people like myself.
Labels are a necessity and for that reason I use them. But they can also be confining and sometimes wildly reductionist. For this reason I struggle to embrace any one word to describe who I am.
My passport says I’m an American citizen. A citizen of a country built on immigrants. Having spent a good bit of my time when in the US in multicultural environments, a third of my life outside the US and almost my entire career in international education and training, I’ve never felt that being an “American” quite covered who I was.
I’ve definitely got the American work ethic. I value the pursuit of life, liberty and happiness if we’re going to quote the forefathers. But I’ve also embraced certain cultural values and traditions of many places I’ve lived and worked. Each of those cultures has a place inside of me. If you took certain experiences away from me I would not be who I am.
Some might say I’m a world citizen, but that does not work for me really. There are places to which I feel a connection, but there are definitely places to which I have no interest in being connected in any way.
But then isn’t citizenship technically just paperwork and with a certain set of rights attached to it? Does our passport or working papers really determine how I we choose to engage or identify with a country or culture?
At the end of the day, I am a very curious person who satiates her need to learn, explore and challenge myself to see think and be in new ways through living, working and visiting other countries. I search out meaningful experiences, relationships and ways to make a difference in people’s lives. Where I do it seems like context, not part of my identity.
I can’t imagine not being able to see the world through the eyes of different cultures. I can’t imagine Identifying with any one country or culture completely.
Maybe that makes me a nomad, I don’t know. I feel like I can be an observer, an engaged visitor or a temporary member of a community. I guess the operative word is temporary.
To answer your question I am those things and more – I am expat, citizen, traveler, student, teacher, friend, wife, explorer and more.
Maybe one day I’ll feel sufficiently attached to something that a more definitive label will do. But I suspect my curiosity may never let that be…
Don’t recall catching this the first time around so glad to see it now. I can empathize with the conflicting emotions of potentially leaving your birth citizenship. I’m well aware that people around the world make fun of Americans for their patriotism and strong feelings about citizenship. They completely miss the point because they wrongly assume that we were raised JUST AS THEY WERE, but then blindly choose to layer on the national pride. No, we are steeped in the national pride from birth onward. I’ll never forget my Dutch teacher casually saying that my daughter could take on Dutch citizenship in order to continue her voetbal career professionally. Both my head and that of another American in the room snapped around so quickly I thought we’d get whiplash! The idea was unfathomable. That’s not to say that others don’t eventually decide to change citizenship based on their situations, but it is never done lightly.
Thanks Megan. Great response. I did reply to your comment before but it seems to have vanished. Maybe it has gone off on its own nomadic journey? 🙂
I don’t like labels myself, partly because they always seem to change. But one thing someone pointed out to me recently is this… I may have started out as a traveller and then became an expat but, if I’ve taken on citizenship of a new country, have rights to work and live here, and have established my home in this fair land, then am I not an immigrant through and through, like the thousands of immigrants who came here before me?
Something to think about… Thanks again for stopping by.
Sport is an interesting one. Amazing how many sportsmen and women change citizenship for largely financial and, as in your daughter’s scenario, possibly professional reasons, yet they would arguably be the most patriotic of the lot. That has to be hard on them to make that call and publicly remain ‘unaffected’ by it all.
Back to you Americans(!), I actually think us Brits and Aussies are very similar to you in that patriotism and strong feelings about citizenship are ever-present (and you can see this from the dilemmas I had with this citizenship decision). And it shouldn’t always be seen as something to run from. In the end, it was only because I could take on ‘dual’ nationality (i.e. retain the British), that I went ahead. That’s not meant to be seen as disrespectful to my new Australian nationality but national pride does flow from birth. And you can’t just give it up, no matter how much you love your new home/country/wife’s place of birth.