Yes, I am an Immigrant. 
An expat- which is just a nicer word for an immigrant who still retains the passport of her birth country.
‘An expatriate (often shortened to expat) is a person temporarily or permanently residing, as an immigrant, in a country other than that of their citizenship. The word comes from the Latin terms ex (“out of”) and patria (“country, fatherland”).’
The land of my mother and father.
Where I was born.
There are times, living here in America with a green card, as an immigrant, that I don’t feel that I belong here. I just want to go home. Such a child-like response to a fright.
Many immigrants feel this way. We all carry a sadness within us, almost a feeling of failure that we could not thrive in our own countries, we had to leave to grow.
We are in America trying to fit in, with our green cards clutched in our hot little hands and trying to keep our mouths shut. To look grateful and unthreatening.
To get a green card is a long, arduous and expensive process. It takes years, just the background checks, police checks, etc., took a solid eighteen months for me just to be cleared, then on to the next step. And I come from a country that is not at war so the records are easy to find and they are in English. And don’t forget that the person applying for the permanent residency pays good money every step of the way. This is not a poor mans lark.
I talked to a lady yesterday who was shocked that is was hard to get. Oh, she said, I thought that when you married an American you were automatically an American citizen. She did not mean to be rude she was just interested in whether I was a citizen or not. But no. Not at all. Where on earth did you get that idea from? I asked. Who told you it was easy? You have to apply and beg to be admitted and every expensive step underscores that no-one wants you here at all! Marrying helps though.
Ten years ago, I married John, an American citizen who I have known since I was seventeen, but marrying him did not guarantee residency, not at all, I was put through a series of harrowing interviews and a war of paper and applications and lawyers visits. Two years later I had my green card.
But I still hold a New Zealand passport.
It is the law that I must carry my green card on me at all times as proof that I am allowed to be out on the street in America.
Once approved, the green card only lasts for ten years.
It was easier for me though. I am an English speaking woman from a peaceful country and I have a long accessible paper trail of education and work history and I am married to an American. And we had the money to pay for me to apply for permanent residency. I am not the daughter of an undocumented Mexican woman or a Syrian doctor or a small Muslim girl in school or a young Algerian man with nothing but dreams or an Argentinian rugby player. How much harder is life for these people. The good honest ones – not the ones with bad intent – the ordinary immigrants like me.
So many people are being threatened with deportation now from the place they were born in or desperately want to work in, yet I am only here by chance. It seems all wrong to me. What is the word I am struggling for – guilt? I feel guilty. I feel guilty that I am a happy go lucky immigrant. I am not in America by choice – it is just where my husband lives. I don’t bring important knowledge or skills to this country, I seldom even leave the farm. I feel terrible sadness for the uncertain futures of those people who are not as lucky as I. Yet I feel a tide turning.
These last few days I am struggling with a feeling that I cannot quite put my finger on. I feel … see that? I pause again … if this were a real conversation and you were in the room with me, I have gone quiet and am looking out the window trying to form English words for how I feel. Groping for them. This text has taken almost two hours to write already. My coffee has gone quite cold. I must get back to the fencing but I am not sure how I feel. I need to find the words. Afraid? Sad? I feel out of step, isolated, foreign. I don’t understand anymore. I am confused. I don’t belong.
Every time I go out – EVERYTIME – someone will say “Oh, I love your accent. Where do you come from?.” Everytime it is kindly pointed out that I do not belong here – I come from elsewhere. From a tourist destination no less. My country is a postcard. Why are you here – is the next question. These are very personal questions yet not one person blushes as they ask them or says – do you mind my asking. I am a little pointy triangle sitting in a restaurant booth made for nice round americans.
The moment I speak several heads swivel towards me to listen. A foreigner is in their midst. Where? There. Is she safe? Where does she come from? Why is she here? They tuck their purses closer to their bodies and lower their voices again. And I am blonde and blue eyed.
But now the questions go a step further. It just got worse for us. For the immigrants. That is how I feel anyway.
On Wednesday two people I know reasonably well, asked me if I had voted – no, I cannot vote – I am not an American. “You’re not? Why not? You can’t vote? Aren’t you a citizen? Don’t you want to be an American citizen?”. Looking closer. “Oh, so you have a green card? How long does that last? We are not going to have to send you home are we – ha ha ha. Just joking”
Paraphrased but the same conversation – twice.
No-one has asked me if I was a citizen before, if I was documented.
I am sure they did not mean to be unkind but they have a duty now – to check, you see.
In two years my green card is up for renewal. My next logical step is to apply for citizenship. (Which is not a rubber stamp, this also needs lots of money, and exams and more checks, proof that I still live with John, that I am embedded, no threat, not out of the country too often, etc). But America confuses me now, I am a little afraid.
The atmosphere is changing.
Becoming a citizen is not the right step for me.
But I have a farm and a husband and his family here in the midwest and the farm harbours a number of souls in my care. I have a home here too. And no money to start again elsewhere even if I wanted to.
You see? 
And all yesterday and all last night and all this morning I was thinking about this. Trying to think my way past these words into how I was feeling about them. And when I went to write my blog this morning before sunrise like I usually do, these words would not get out of my way.
So I waited a while and now I give them to you.
celi
The Kitchen's Garden 
214 responses to “I am an immigrant”
I think the powers that be will be busy for quite some time on the 11 million that “shouldn’t” be there if indeed they ask anyone to leave at all, I doubt they will move onto those who should and can be there, please cast these thoughts away.
I saw a great Trump quote today from 1998 when he said in an interview “If I were to run, I’d run as a Republican. They’re the dumbest group of voters in the country. They believe anything on Fox News. I could lie and they’d still eat it up. I bet my numbers would be terrific.”
Even if it’s not a true quote, it should make you laugh.
The beauty of been an expat in Poland is that I haven’t got a clue what anyone says to me 🙂
That did make me laugh but mercy aren’t those quotes unreliable!! Fun though. And No – they will never cast out the legal people – surely not. c
This is the age of misinformation. I think the press have a lot to answer for and probably make things seem a lot worse than they really are, lets hope so 🙂
My great grandmother immigrated from Australia in the 1940s and married a sheep farmer in the back roads of Idaho. I know that she faced a lot of pressure from being an outsider who married one of the only “eligible men” in their small (no, TINY) town. She died just last week at 97, and I’ve just realized that it never occurred to me to ask her if she was a citizen, and if she was, how hard it was to get there.
I have several friends who are not citizens, and most of the time it’s not relevant (what a wonderful world we live in that “non-a-citizen” doesn’t equal “lower class” or “not a real person” for most people). If my friends’ immigration status comes up, it’s because they’re so much a part of the American melting pot that I forget that a question as natural as, “Who did you vote for?” could be embarrassing or push someone away. You’ve given me a lot to think about there.
Thank you for sharing, for the reminder of the complexity of immigration and how close it is to home. I’ll come to your hearing and argue that you are a productive member of our society if you need it. 🙂 To slow down future immigration is one thing, but if the government decides to start kicking legal permanent residents out, I’ll fight just as hard as anybody.
Hugs, Laura
Oh I am sure they won’t be bothered kicking legal immigrants out – if I jump through the right hoops at the right time I will be fine.. What brought your great grandmother here in the 1940’s? Did she meet one of those soldiers with the nylons? c
He was a Mormon missionary, and she had red hair. Need I say more? 🙂
Oh my goodness! Wonderful
My daughter-in-law is Canadian, here with a green card my son and her paid thousands of dollars, miles in gas and hours upon hours in time to get while they were still in college and just after. I don’t know if nor care if she ever does become an American citizen and would be rather angry with someone who even jokingly said anything about her being “deported!” What in the h*** is wrong with people? Thank you for writing this. You brought something to my attention that I wouldn’t have thought about. I would protect my daughter in law with my life.
No I am sure she would not be deported – it is the people who are not documented that they are worried about. I think it is wonderful that you helped her get her green card – just wonderful.. c
As an Australian – White, several generations Aussie – I see those kinds of anti-migrant tensions brewing here, too, and wonder what happened to turn our nation into a bunch of fear-riddled refugee-hating people. It really is a mess here, and the way our government responded with joy at the election of Trump says a lot about the current state of our country. I can’t imagine how tough your situation is. I have listened to my Asian, Latina, Middle Eastern, Eastern European and African friends in my multicultural end of Melbourne talk about the huge battles they faced in becoming Australian citizens. All I can do, I think, is offer to listen (and I’ve helped a few of my them with their citizenship applications). But it’s so hard in a country that is paranoid about ‘outsiders.’ They feel it every time they step out of their doors. The sideways glances, the frustration at their sometimes difficult to understand accents, their culturally ingrained habits that don’t mesh with Aussie assumptions about behaviour. It’s so hard for them and I had no idea until I started asking them to tell me what it’s like for them. It was so eye opening. And sad. I hope things in the US improve, as I hope they do here.
You must be one of those wonderfu,l wonderful people who understand kindness. bless you for helping us. I know that you must be well loved by the people you help. c
Oh thank you – you’re too kind! 🙂
My daughter-in-law is from Canada, my nephew from Ireland. I know all about the long expensive process. But let me say this to you…there are many of us who are glad you are here. You enrich our lives —like a breath of fresh air or new dreams for those who stay in the same place.
Linda
Thank you Linda – you taught me about milking cows – remember? So we are all good for each other . Take care – no wandering too far in the dark tonight – i think the cold is coming. c
😢 What a sad and bewildering world we live in right now. I feel your confusion. Big Man speaks hardly any English and several times recently he has been insulted by my fellow British and told to “bugger off back to where he comes from” despite the fact that he pays taxes, employs local people and invests in this town. In Spain I have it a little easier as I speak almost fluent Spanish but I have often heard comments about The British “coming over to Spain, taking our jobs, using our health care system and generally being good for nothing apart from enjoying cheap alcohol”. I don’t know the answers and that makes me sad and very confused.
How awful that they should speak to Big Man like that. I am appalled and horrified for him. Some people learn languages easily people like Big Man and me do struggle. Take care now and give my love to your husband.. c
Thank you my dear friend xx
I think it’s difficult all over. If a European wants to live in France, one must still apply for a Carte de Séjours (I know, I’ve got one) and getting a permit to live in New Zealand is probably as hard as getting a Green Card. My sister is married to an American and as soon as she got her Green Card she moved, with her husband, back to England because she didn’t like America. Her poor husband then had to go through the British system for residency – probably as hard as the American. Things in Europe could get worse, there are elections coming in France and Germany, both of which have growing nationalist political parties.
Yes getting permission to live in a new country is getting harder. New Zealand sends everyone home to apply, they cannot be living in NZ until they get approval. And they are tough. In America at least you can live IN the country while you wait. I just wanted to point out that it is rigorous – it is not as easy as many American people think. And impossible unless you have really real money to pay for the applications and the lawyers. c
I know, I tried to get a Green Card and failed.
I immigrated to the US decades ago. Getting my green card was not a problem. I don’t remember paying a lot of money for it or filling out a lot of papers. On one of my visits to Berlin long ago, my husband, son and I had to cross the boarders into East Berlin on different checkpoints. I decided then that I never wanted to be separated from my family again and became an American citizen . Just like you Celia I get ask many times where I’m from . I am saddened and heart broken by the recent events .
What a lovely reason to become a citizen.. c
Like you – my words are at a loss on what to say to you and for you. Love is the easiest to pass to you and prayers for calm heads and leadership.
I am sure everything will calm down soon – so we can all get back to the business of being good neighbours and friends. c
Thank you for taking the time to express your thought an words, I can only say that I hope things settle down and that time will prove that those within the legal process will always be welcome..
For five years I had the very beautiful and challenging chance to both live in my country of Canada and as the same time live in a space, place and time where both English and being white made us very much “other”, the high artic with its inuit culture, language and 3rd world living conditions, combined with living in a fly in and out above the tree line gave me a solid idea of what its like to be in a new country, and how to hand talk, so much visiting with hand talking and body lang
I will tell you a wee story, its a true story.. I had not been there more then a few weeks when my door opened and closed and a wee piping voice started talking to my dogs in Inuktitut and there was a beautiful 4 year old, she was taking off her coat and boots, she greeted me with a smile and chatter and somehow in my shock made it plain she expected tea and bannock, so I feed her and tried to find out where she had come from and where she was going. she chatted away an clearly was thankfully, then she went to get her boots and coat and she was on her way, I got ready with her and followed, we walk to a home where she let herself in, introduced me to a lovely grandmother.. one of the teenagers in the house explained to me, that her mom had taken a nap, she had wanted to see grandma, an so had left, got thirsty and hungry and so stopped about half way and then continued on..
Every time I saw her grandmother, she would close mouth smile and touch me and natter on. and I would smile nod and hand talk.. I often think now.. why did I let her just guide me, hot drink please, cookie jar? and so forth.. why did I not call someone.. but she seemed so sure of herself and for all I knew she lived two houses down..
Hugs Miss C and many blessing to all
What a beautiful little story and what an experience – that must have been amazing.. thank you ! c
Thanks for sharing this very thought-provoking and personal post.
And thank you for reading Sarah.. c
Everybody has expressed my thoughts so brilliantly already, but I wanted to just say how much I appreciate you writing this–and holding a space for all points of view here. Because somehow we need to bridge the differences that polarize this country and one way to start doing that is to listen. With love and compassion, if possible. Thanks, Celi.
yes Charlotte – ones personal political preference should not interfere with relationships – my parents always voted for dfferent parties and laughingly agreed to not discuss it – it is a whole different kettle of fish in America. The passions run high. But here in the Lounge of Comments I enjoy it when we can listen and nod, not agree sometimes but there should be no name calling. My Mum used to say if you can’t say anything nice don’t say anything at all. And it works. Silence has a lot of power. Let’s
get busy building those bridges – well said Charlotte.
I have been ill for the last 2 days and am barely functioning. As a naturalized citizen, I don’t worry about deportation but my passport is always up to date. My mother jumped through many hoops and had long lessons before getting her citizenship which was required. Dad was U.S. military. I have never had that sense of belonging in either country. People treat others that are different from themselves so badly. Now I’m seeing signs of the the Berlin wall being erected on American soil. The terror inside me is palpable. I had a feeling when you did not post early, you might be struggling with this too. It will all come out in the wash but what will it take down the drain with it. An election has NEVER left me so terribly unsettled in my soul. The tyranny starts small then escalates to unimaginable proportion. You are not alone in your concerns. We have never had the kind of protests after an election that we are having now either. When will we learn?
Oh I hope you are feeling better soon – to be so sick must be dreadful – stay warm and rest well – we will still be here when you are feeling better.. c
The sickness comes from the fear of what has been chosen by this country. Hatred and separation instead in inclusion and caring. No election has ever done this to me.
Big breath darling girl – you will be fine and busy again soon. You are a strong woman.
Yes, I will. Doing everything possible. Coming out of Germany it’s all too fresh even though I didn’t suffer like my mother and her family. Crazy people scare me more than mean people.
You may have had a panic attack. But I think you are getting better now? Stay very busy – lots of exercise and water and good food – hopefully tonight you will get a good sleep – that will help. Wish I could help you more.
I wish I could help more too. I must pull my wits about me. Wish you would never have to worry about a silly green card. I’m thinking so many of us feel so ineffective in how to make this right. I just feel a deep sadness. Hoping for a kinder, more inclusive world.
Where I grew up in the suburbs of NYC, in the ’50s and early ’60s, it was not cool to be from a family like mine. I was not an outcast, but I was not welcome in many homes because we were a very ethnic family (think of the scene in My Big Fat Greek Wedding when she is eating Moussaka at school and is the swarthy, “different” child. That was me!). My crime was being from a large Italian and Jewish Jewish family (with totally embarassing aunts and uncles), so we had a double whammy. My parents just wanted the best for me, but it gave me a very different view of the United States as a kid, even though I was born here. The White/Anglo-Saxon/Protestant town I grew up in was not welcoming of anyone different, even though I was told in school that America is a melting pot and all are welcomed. In my early twenties I moved to Israel, and am a dual citizen even now, which gives me yet another point of view (and being an immigrant in a country where I did not speak the language as fluently as I would have liked was a very humbling experience).
The thing that has disturbed me during this whole election cycle has been the feeling that people are beginning to feel okay to indulge in hate and prejudice speech, I am not saying that either side is better than the other in this department. But I am hoping that we can build a way forward together, and not keep pointing to the fact that half the country voted a different way from each of us. It’s done. Even though my chosen candidate did not win, I feel like a lead weight is off my shoulders and we just need to move forward in a positive way. Be the change we want to see, building peace as we go. I know we are capable of it! And we love having you here, Celi!
I hope you invite me to your next big family wedding! Your family sounds GREAT! Did you know that This year I had three Jewish farm workers (who did not know each other of course – all arriving independently) and the food they made!! Wow. We all loved hearing about their Grannies and talking about their New york upbringings . c
You are welcome any time! The family has gotten smaller and more spread out, but we are still a wild lot!
I’m a reverse immigrant – I left America for Ireland. I also get those questions, but people here are nosy as hell and are always trying to place me into the group of people they know. I still find it odd how often people here use my name when talking to me. Not something Americans do at all. Of course I’m inundated with questions now about the election, why did it turn out this way, why did so many women vote for him, etc. I can’t answer that, I’ve been in Ireland going on 12 years. I was last there 6 years ago and definitely got culture shock.
Ireland is home for me. And I tell people that, when they ask. I never felt comfortable over there. Cleveland was grand, but my upbringing in, sorry to say it, redneck Florida, was never comfortable at all.
I need to try yet again to become an Irish citizen. I have tried several times but it seems I need a lawyer to help me, and as I used to work in law I rebel against needing outside help!
I am so happy that you have found your home – i think many of us move about the world looking for our homes- I hope you find yourself a nice lawyer and get to be a citizen – that will be a grand feeling so it will.. c