There have been plenty of times when I've enjoyed being able to shrug and declare 'I'm not a citizen, it's nothing to do with me'. November 9, 2016 is a good example. A few months earlier I found that distance from home softened the blow of the tragedy that is Brexit. I was fairly active, politically, before I became transatlantic. Not just voting, but displaying posters, joining marches and protests and just generally being one of those talkative, self-righteous left wingers that will save the world one day if you'd all only let us.
Then came the luxury of shrugging and saying 'it's nothing to do with me'. The luxury of opting out of difficult conversations with family members who have different points of view. The strange experience of watching an election in the country where I live as if it was happening in a parallel universe - I've never not voted in an election before, large or small. I'm a bystander. I can still march for gun control, donate to Planned Parenthood and ACLU, and wear my 'Nevertheless she persisted' t-shirt. I can exercise my consumer power. But that's about it.
I'm ashamed to admit that I enjoyed knowing that what I think - about, say, gun control, a woman's right to reproductive choice, or the inhuman 'zero tolerance' policy that is ripping infants from their parents at the border - doesn't count in the country where I live. It's an easy way out when you live in a country where - to quote this Guardian column - 'kids get bulletproof shields for their backpacks as a gift for graduating middle school'.
But it's cold comfort. And as I drove to pick P up from pre-school today (she's safe - no school shootings in Los Angeles since May 11, in case you wondered) I listened to a story about the border separations on KCRW. That's our local NPR station, the bleeding heart liberal's station of choice. And my heart did bleed. I was moved to tears by this harrowing 7 minute recording of inconsolable kids - little, little children, the same age as P - crying for their parents. It's a horrible inhuman exercise, being carried out by a frighteningly authoritarian administration, and I can't vote them out. I can't even, really, make those phone calls we're supposed to make to our Senator - to tell them 'You represent me and I support the 'Keep Families Together Act' (Americans - if you're reading this and feel the same way - call 202-224-3121 and tell them you support SB3036).
I mean, I can make that call and I did, but I think they can tell by my accent I'm not an American - and I hope they don't check the voters roll because then they'll know they don't represent me at all.
Calling Kamala Harris and asking her to support the 'Keep Families Together' Act is redundant. Voting for progressive, liberal policies in California, is like wishing for sunshine in LA. There's really no need. But being unenfranchised (I figure I can't say 'disenfranchised' sine no-one took it away from me...) is untenable. And since we aren't planning on leaving any time soon, I may just have to bite the bullet (get it?) and pursue the path to citizenship. With a heavy heart.
