Legal Alien
My green card arrived. Matthew and I opened a bottle of “the good stuff” to celebrate. I am so excited that I am now a permanent resident of the United States. Now I can live and work here without restrictions. Once I wrap up my schoolwork, we plan to move to San Francisco. Since we can live anywhere in the States, why not live in our favorite city? Woohoo! I officially live in California.
I was surprised with how smooth and efficient the processing turned out to be. Apparently USCIS has dealt with their backlog and are processing cases at a pretty good clip. My case took only three months. That’s months not years! I am impressed.
The weirdest thing about getting my green card has been the strange but surprisingly common reaction of making semi-joking comments about how I’m not “an illegal immigrant” anymore. For the record, I have never been an illegal alien. Ever.
This is a bit of a hot button. Jokes about “illegal immigrants” are not funny in the slightest way for those of us who are immigrants. First, while the public dialogue tends to only include two categories of people: Americans (swell with patriotism) and illegal aliens (underbelly of society – pooh! pooh!), there are in fact a wide variety of ways someone can live in the United States legally, including work, student, and immigrant visas. When we have visas, we’re legal and legit. We are not breaking the law and we pay our taxes (I actually pay both Canadian and American taxes). While I sympathize with the plight of the illegal aliens who experience destitution, poverty, and human rights abuses, I would prefer not to be mistaken for one.
Second, we know we are aliens. Often we are far from our families and the familiarity of the systems with which we grew up. We have fewer rights. Some of us have travel restrictions and aren’t allowed to go back for a while. Some of us experience less culture shock than others, but there are small reminders everywhere that we don’t quite belong (yet). Sometimes we’re delighted with our new home (no snow!) and sometimes the way things are done seem crazy (the DMV).
The teasing isn’t entirely without cause, I’ve seen the “ugly Canadian.” Sometimes visitors and immigrants can be, shall we say boorish jerks ungracious. There’s nothing quite like watching someone say, “So how do you like America?” (subtext: Let’s make chit chat about my home) and be met with a litany of everything that was perfect where the person is from and horrible here (subtext: Your home sucks because I miss mine). Sometimes I’ve been the “ugly” visitor. Sorry about that. Even so, vulnerability and insecurity because one doesn’t quite fit in are always present. When you live in a country in which you are a citizen, it’s kinda rude to point out that aliens don’t fit in. We already know.
The third reason the illegal alien jokes are not funny is that some of us are really happy to be here. My life is here now. Matthew lives here. Also, have you been to the prairies/plains in winter? It’s f*$%ing cold. More important than that, though, is that the longer we’re here, the less we fit in where we come from. The culture of where you live rubs off on you. I’m slowly becoming a Californian and I’m happy about that. It also means that I can’t easily go back. Calling me an illegal alien doesn’t just remind me that I’m not one of you, it also reminds me that I’m not one of them (back “home”).
So there’s my rant about being called an illegal alien. It boils down to being an alien, but being a legal one. Jokes about this hit too close to my concept of home. Try the much more popular and gracious “Welcome!” or “That’s great!” reaction to the news that I have become a permanent resident. I’ll recover my sense of humor about this eventually (probably in about three years when I process to become an American citizen). In the meantime, I am starting to see movies like “The Proposal” in which people attempt to defraud immigration services as just mildly funny instead of setting my teeth on edge. And belting out Paul Simon’s “Trailways Bus” and Sting’s “Englishman in New York” in the car is always fun.