An American in England: Voiceless in the Referendum

On June 23rd, Brits across the country (and some in other countries) will be taking to the polls to vote in the Referendum. The question being put forth is whether the U.K. should remain in the European Union, or leave. You can't pick up a newspaper, switch on a television, or tune in to a radio station without hearing about the Referendum. As with every election, there is mud-slinging from both sides, "experts" from both sides, and people I love from both sides. But as the vote draws nearer and people's opinions become clearer I have to question: Do they love me?

I am finding it more and more challenging to believe people who call me "friend" honestly mean it if they are voting to leave the EU. See, my friends know my story of immigration. My friends know the British system wouldn't let me into the country with my British husband. My friends know I had to use European laws in order to settle in this country. So why would so many "friends" vote against the laws that brought my family home?

I know, I know, perhaps it's a bit inflammatory and even selfish of me to make such suggestions. But I can't help boil with rage when I hear a so-called friend say "there's just too many of them". Them. Them. The them they're talking about is me. They're talking about immigrants. Foreigners. Outcasts. When I hear someone say there's too many, I hear "Jacquelynn, you're not welcome here, we don't want you here, we don't accept you here. You don't contribute to our society, you do nothing to promote us, you do not belong."

The problem is that people think it's okay to say these things to me in the same way that some think it's okay to be racist because "I have a black friend". I'm sorry, having me as your friend does not give you permission to be xenophobic. In fact, because I am your friend is the exact reason you should NOT be xenophobic. You should be my champion, my supporter, my voice when I am left voiceless.

In the Referendum, I will be left voiceless. Never mind. Never mind that my life is here. Never mind I married my husband here. Never mind I gave birth to my son here. Never mind that I am establishing roots here. I'm not important enough to have a voice because I don't have a British passport.

So, friend, I implore you, be my voice. Vote to Remain in the EU.

An American in England: Baby's Got Two Passports

We've had a very busy few months. In January, we moved to a new home, and I restarted my Graduate Certificate, which I finished just a few weeks ago. Alexander has been busy with his teacher training, and he's got a job lined up for when he finishes. Baby boy is now a year old (where did the time go!), and we had a lovely birthday party to celebrate. I even made my first birthday cake...

During Alexander's Easter holiday, we were able to take a family trip to Dublin for a few days. It was really a lot of fun. We got to go to the zoo, have a pint of Guinness in the storehouse, tour an exhibit at the General Post Office on the Easter Rising of 1916, and lots of other cool stuff. It was a special time to be there since it was 100 years since the attempted revolution.

 

For me, the most exciting part of the past few months was getting our son's American passport. Not because the process of getting the passport was exciting, much the opposite in fact, but because it meant he had two passports before the age of one...fascinating for me as I didn't even have a single passport until I was 17! 

The actual process of getting the passport was fairly complicated. With his British passport, all we needed to do was send an application, photo, birth certificate, and reduced fee. A few weeks later, he had his passport, which is valid for 5 years. For the American passport, we needed to make an appointment at the embassy in London. Both Alexander and I had to go to the appointment, otherwise we would have needed to get an official document excusing the absent of one parent. In order to get the passport, we needed to also get a Consular Report of Birth Abroad (CRBA). The passport was $105, and the CRBA was $100. Along with the fees and applications, we needed: Alexander's passport, my passport, Baby's British Passport, our marriage certificate, my divorce decree from previous marriage, Baby's full birth certificate, proof of my residence in the U.S. To prove I had resided in the U.S. I had to show my high school transcripts, university transcripts, tax documents. We also had to apply for a Social Security Card. The appointment took about an hour, and they had a nice little play area for babies, but it really seemed to be a bit over-the-top to get a document that is valid for 5 years and will only be used when travelling in and out of the U.S.

Regardless of the hassle, I'm excited that my baby boy is lucky enough to have dual citizenship. When he's older, he may choose to only have one, but I'm glad that he's the one who will make the choice!

An American in England: Time to settle down

It's crazy to think the last time I posted I was still living in Poland. The weather was cold, the days were short, and I was very pregnant. It's now six months since my last last post, this week is going to see a heat wave, it's still light at 9 o'clock in the evening, my beautiful baby is over six weeks old...and I'm living in England.

Tea time!

It's a lot different from the first time I moved to England. Back then, I didn't intend to stay. Alexander and I wanted to get married and then travel the world. Well, the original intention was living in Germany. Of course, that didn't quite go as planned, but we definitely traveled the world. This move to England though, the intention is to stay...permanently.

The problem is it's really not as easy as one would think. One of the reasons we didn't settle in the UK to start with was the massive visa fees and the fact that Alexander wasn't in a job since he was finishing University. There are many hurdles you have to leap as a British citizen to get your spouse into the UK, and one of them is an income threshold. Since Alexander wasn't working, he didn't meet that income threshold, and I could only come on a fiancee visa to get married. We just assumed we wouldn't be able to settle in the UK because of the strict immigration requirements. So we took a job in Indonesia, and then a job in Poland. Then one day we heard about the Surender Singh route.

Since Poland is part of the EU and we had established our life there, the Surender Singh route allowed for us to return to live in the UK due to the EU's free movement laws. So I was able to apply for an EEA family permit in order to move to the UK. This is only valid for six months, and even though I wouldn't legally need anything else to stay in the UK, it's much easier to travel in and out of the country if you have a Residence Card. So, when we arrived in January, I immediately applied for my residence card. I received my certificate of application within a few weeks, so I assumed it would be no time before I got the residence card. But February ended, then March passed, and by the time we got through April I started to get worried. Of course, there was no need to worry, and I finally got my Residence documentation this past week.

After four months of living in the UK, I finally feel like I am really living here. I went to get my library card and picked up an application to transfer my driving license. After the heartache I went through getting my Polish license, I am quite relieved it is a simple matter of switching it over. Now that our little one has arrived, we're happy to establish ourselves as a family of three and put down some roots. Of course, that doesn't mean our days of traveling are completely over... I just sent off for our baby's passport today :)

Team Ayton, ready to take on the world!

Home

Alexander and I recently spoke with an immigration attorney in the U.K. and discovered that in order for us to live there, we would have to be separated for a time. The attorney said Alex would have to get a job in the U.K. and work for at least a month before I could file my documents to process a visa which would take a few more weeks. During that time, I would have to be in the U.S. and so I would be separated from my husband for a few months, or even longer if my visa were denied. We couldn't go through all that. Not again.

After this news, I talked to my grandma about our current plan, which is to stay in Poland indefinitely. My grandma did NOT take the news lightly. She hates the thought of her grandkids being bullied, and that is effectively what is happening by the UK Border Agency. We can't live where we want to live because because my passport isn't from the "right" country, so we're being bullied into staying somewhere we never intended to live. I'm not complaining about Poland, it's a nice place, but it's not where we saw ourselves settling. So, through tears and sobs my grandma cried, "Why can't you just come home?"

Home.

Dictionary.com defines this noun as:

a house, apartment, or other shelter that is the usual residence of a person, family, or household.

By this definition, my home is Kostrzyn nad Odra, Poland, so, grandma, I am home. Of course, that's not what grandma meant. The second definition is:

the place in which one's domestic affections are centered.

By this definition, my affections (fond attachment, devotion, or love) lie with my husband, who lives in Kostrzyn nad Odra, Poland, so, once again, I am home. Yet, this was also not what grandma meant.

When my grandma made her tearful request, she meant I should just take myself and my husband and move to the U.S. The problem is, quite simply, that's not our home. My husband is British with family in the U.K., his parents live in France, our first home as a married couple was Indonesia, my family lives all over the U.S, and we now live in Poland. What is our home?

Excuse me, dictionary.com, but I have my own definition of home, which can't be summarized with a cursory handful of words. Home is waking up to my husband's kisses and a cup of coffee. Home is teasing my husband about losing his British vocabulary after time away from his native country. Home is trying new recipes and having my husband devour each one of them, even when they don't turn out quite right. Home is arguing over who should wash the dishes or take out the trash and then laughing over such silly arguments (perhaps after a few hours of moping). Home is falling asleep next to my husband and grabbing him in the night when I have a bad dream. Home is happiness, laughter, and love.

And I beg your pardon, U.K. Border Agency, but you have no right to separate a home.

Willkommen in Polska: Bureaucracy

As a non-EU citizen coming into the EU, things can be pretty tricky. Since I'm married to an EU-citizen, things are a bit easier, but, nevertheless, still incredibly complicated. This post is meant to be a bit of a warning for any other couples about to enter the process of EU bureaucracy. Keep in mind that it is different in each EU country, which is a large part of the issue.

Once Alexander was registered here in Poland, it was my turn to go through registration. We had to fill out a 4-page form in Polish (luckily with the help of our boss) which included information about my parents, my physical characteristics, my residence, my citizenship and various other tidbits. I had to take 5 passport size photos which showed my left ear and we had to turn in copies of my passport, Alexander's passport, Alexander's work contract, Alexander's registration documents and our marriage certificate. Things went smoothly with all but two things.

Firstly, the people at the regional registration office were pretty clueless about how to deal with a non-EU citizen wanting to register. It's not something that happens often in this area, and I'm guessing it would have been much smoother in Warsaw. The second issue was with our marriage certificate. According to EU law, there should be no problems if documentation is in English. Apparently, we've researched more about EU law than the people at the office have, so they wanted it in Polish. The other problem with the marriage certificate was the validity. They explained that since it was dated July 14, 2012 (the date of our marriage), there was no way to confirm we were still married. They needed confirmation that we were STILL married. Yeah...

We were able to go to the next step without proving our marriage (I was contemplating staging a make-out protest), although it took borderline hysterics on my part. We then had to register me in our local town, Kostrzyn, where we live. Once again, there was a problem with the marriage certificate. This time, they insisted we translate it to Polish. So, we went to a local translation place and went back to the office to get registered. Everything was in order, I got registered locally and received the necessary documentation to officially register with Warsaw, and before leaving the office we asked for our marriage certificate. The answer was they keep our marriage certificate. THEY keep OUR marriage certificate...

This time it was full-blown hysterics, which did nobody any good. In exchange for our British marriage certificate, we were given a Polish one. A Polish marriage certificate for two people who aren't Polish, don't speak Polish, and weren't married in Poland. My honeymoon bubble had official burst at this point. On the bright side, we were informed that if we got an official copy from the UK, then they would give us back our original copy...but I still find the whole process utterly ridiculous.

In the end, I am officially registered in Kostrzyn and awaiting my Polish residence card from Warsaw, which should be arriving in the next couple of weeks. In the meantime, I'm hoping to learn enough Polish to understand what my marriage certificate says.

Jacque in Jakarta: My Anniversary

On July 14, my husband and I will be celebrating our first year of marriage. We'll be going to Yogyakarta, the cultural capital of Java, and we'll get to see Borobudur, the largest Buddhist temple in the world. I'm super excited about both of those experiences, but above all I'm excited about celebrating our anniversary. Especially since I didn't dream that day would come.

I guess you could say my husband and I have the traditional story with a slight twist. Boy meets girl, they fall in love, they live in denial, they confess their love, they get married. But to add our twist it was more like: British boy meets American girl, they fall in love in Germany, they live in denial on opposite sides of the Atlantic, they confess their love over a Skype call, they get married in England on Bastille Day. That part of our story is complicated enough, but there were a few added complications.

To be honest, we didn't have the money to get married. Well, we didn't have the money to have a wedding. Logically, if you don't have money, you shouldn't get married. However, I don't think logic has ever been in a trans-Atlantic relationship. For those of you who have suffered long distance, you know it's just not an option for the long run. So we decided to get married without money, which means we eloped.

Our grand idea was that we would just elope and then eventually save the money for a big wedding. Of course, that didn't make everyone happy. There were family members who were hurt that they couldn't sit with us in the tiny registry office to watch us exchange rings and vows. And I'll admit, we were a bit deluded. We kept saying, "it's only the legal bit, the big celebration for family will be later." We had in our mind that our love was too special, too big for that tiny registry office and we wanted to celebrate with the whole world...when we had the money.

Looking back, I realize that hindsight really is 20/20. It may have been a mistake to bar people from that legal ceremony. Even with the best of intentions, we ended up unwittingly hurting people we love, which is not something either of us would ever want to do.

That being said, even though there may be some things that I regret, the most important thing I don't regret. I don't regret marrying the man that I love. I feel so privileged and proud that I get to call Alexander Paul Ayton my husband. I never dreamed that I would find such a perfect match for me and I thank God every day for giving me such a wonderful husband. He's not perfect, but neither am I. And our imperfections compliment each other completely.

I love you, Alexander.

One Year Later: Life, Love and Living in England

It has been a whole year since my last post, and as always it has been quite eventful for me.

I spent my last year working as a full-time volunteer for a not-for-profit organization in Washington, D.C. called City Year. If you're scratching your head and wondering how "full-time" and "volunteer" go together, suffice it to say they shouldn't. It was an incredibly awarding and challenging position and hands-down the most difficult experience I have ever had in my life.

The basic idea of City Year is to bring together a group of 17-24 year olds for one year of full-time volunteer service in inner-city schools to be mentors, tutors and role models in order to end the dropout crisis. I went into the program bright-eyed, bushy-tailed and ready to change the world. After all, the motto is give a year, change the world. I expected the students to be rough, but I was far from prepared for what exactly "rough" meant. The vocabulary of students often didn't extend beyond four-letter words, many times those words were directed toward adults in the school, a day without a fight was a success, seeing students covered in tattoos or pregnant was commonplace. I worked in a high school, which is grades 9-12, and specifically I worked with 9th grade repeaters. This meant, some of my students were 16, 17 or even 18 years old in the 9th grade. I could write a book of my opinions on the causes and solutions, but I'll just leave it by saying the challenge of ending the dropout crisis will not be solved in one year by a handful of young idealists, it will take the entire country to understand this is a real and costly problem that everyone must work together to solve.

The proposal!

On to the love section, I got engaged! I met my fiancé, Alexander, while living in Germany. He was also an English Teaching Assistant, but he was from England, so of course everytime we met up I had to tease him about his accent and explain that he couldn't speak English properly. We stayed in touch after we left Germany, and eventually we realized we belong together. He proposed to me on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial on November 10, 2011, and we'll have our wedding ceremony in Karlsruhe, Germany (the last place we visited together in Germany) on July 4, 2013. The whole story of how we met and the proposal is on our website.

Of course, nothing can be simple and straightforward with international romance, so we've had a lot of decisions to make in a short time. We spent seven months away from eachother. Well, not the entire seven months. He visited me for Christmas and New Year, a few weeks for Valentine's Day, a few weeks for Easter and finally he came to see my City Year graduation and pick me up to bring me with him to England. Still, seven months of Skype conversations, a 5-hour time difference and a 4,000 mile distance is far too much for two people in love. So, we looked into visas and figured out how to avoid having to be separated again.

After much research, I decided to get a non-settlement visa for marriage in the U.K. Why non-settlement? We decided we would like to go back to Germany for a while and eventually to the U.S., so there would be no reason to pay thousands of dollars to get a visa to settle in the U.K. for two years when we wouldn't even be here for that long. Why marriage? We realized in order to avoid any more separation, the odds would be more in our favor if we were spouses as opposed to just engaged. Thus, we'll be having our beautiful German wedding ceremony with family and friends on July 4, 2013, but for visa/legal purposes we're getting legally married on July 14, 2012. Yes, in two weeks.

That brings me to my final chapter: Living in England. I arrived in London's Heathrow airport on June 6th. From there it was a whirlwind of meeting my new family. I met Alexander's father, mother, sister, aunt, uncle,  a few cousins, grandmother, grandmother's dog, best friends and the most important member of the family, Angus (the family dog). And all that was in the first 5 days. Eight days after I arrived, we had to go to Birmingham to give our Notice of Marriage. This is an official thing that we have to do to let the government know we're getting married, so they can check and make sure we're legally able to get married and then send us the papers confirming we are allowed to get married. Usually it takes 7-10 days to receive the papers, but seeing as I'm an international divorceé it's taking longer...we're still waiting.

On the 15th of June we went to London so I could meet Alexander's brothers. Unfortunately, I got a kidney infection, wasn't able to meet the brothers and spent my Friday night in London in the Chelsea and Westminster Hospital. I  was released the next day and got to meet a cousin of Alex, but it still was NOT the weekend I had hoped for.

At graduation ball

Besides my first few days of excitement, life in England has been pretty quiet. We're living with Alexander's nan (grandmother) and spending most of our days job searching. I've seen a lot of the Midlands including Stratford-upon-Avon, the birthplace of Shakespeare. We went to a graduation ball last week to celebrate Alexander's graduation. He'll be graduating with a 2.1 Degree! It's been fun to learn all the English words and figure out the American translations for them. I've thought about writing an English-American dictionary. Maybe that's what I can do with all my new-found free time...