USA, There's Still So Much to Adore About You, But We Have to Break Up: These Are the Reasons I'm Giving Up My American Citizenship
After 60 years together, America, our partnership must conclude. While I still hold affection for you, the passion has diminished and I'm making the difficult decision to separate. I'm leaving by choice, despite the sorrow it brings, because there remains much to admire about you.
Natural Beauty and Creative Spirit
From your breathtaking national parks, towering redwood forests and distinctive animal species to the enchanting glow of fireflies between crop rows during warm nights and the vibrant autumn foliage, your environmental beauty is remarkable. Your capacity to ignite innovation seems boundless, as evidenced through the motivational people I've met throughout your territory. Numerous precious recollections revolve around flavors that permanently connect me to you – cinnamon spice, seasonal squash dessert, grape jelly. But, America, I simply don't comprehend you anymore.
Ancestral History and Changing Connection
If I were composing a separation letter to the United States, those would be the opening words. I've qualified as an "accidental American" from delivery because of my paternal lineage and centuries of ancestors before him, commencing in the seventeenth century including military participants in foundational conflicts, shared genetic material with a former president plus multiple eras of settlers who traversed the country, beginning in northeastern states toward central and western regions.
I experience deep honor in my family's history and their contributions to America's narrative. My father experienced childhood through economic hardship; his ancestor fought as a Marine in France in the global conflict; his single-parent ancestor operated agricultural land with numerous offspring; his relative helped reconstruct the city following the seismic disaster; while another ancestor ran for political office.
However, notwithstanding this classic U.S. background, I find myself no longer feeling connected to the nation. This feeling intensifies considering the confusing and alarming governmental climate that leaves me questioning what American identity represents. Experts have termed this "citizen insecurity" – and I believe I experience it. Now I desire to create distance.
Practical Considerations and Financial Burden
I've only resided in the United States a brief period and haven't visited in nearly a decade. I've maintained Australian nationality for almost forty years and have no plans to reside, employment or education within America subsequently. Furthermore, I'm certain I'll never need emergency extraction – so there's no practical necessity to maintain American nationality.
Furthermore, the obligation I face as a U.S. citizen to file yearly financial documentation, although not residing or employed there or eligible for services, becomes onerous and stressful. America stands with only two nations worldwide – the other being Eritrea – that implement levies according to nationality instead of location. And financial compliance is mandatory – it's printed within travel documents.
Admittedly, a fiscal treaty operates between Australia and the U.S., intended to avoid double taxation, yet filing costs vary between A$1,200 and A$3,500 annually for straightforward declarations, and the process proves extremely demanding and convoluted to undertake every new year, as the American fiscal cycle begins.
Compliance Concerns and Final Decision
Authorities have indicated that ultimately American officials will mandate conformity and impose significant penalties on delinquent individuals. This enforcement doesn't target high-profile individuals but all Americans overseas must fulfill obligations.
Although financial matters aren't the main cause for my decision, the annual expense and stress of filing returns proves distressing and basic financial principles suggest it constitutes inefficient resource allocation. However, ignoring American fiscal duties would mean that visiting involves additional apprehension about potential denial at immigration due to irregular status. Alternatively, I could postpone resolution for inheritance processing after death. Both options appear unsatisfactory.
Possessing American travel documentation constitutes a privilege that countless immigrants desperately seek to acquire. But it's a privilege that feels uncomfortable for me, so I'm taking action, despite the $2,350 cost to finalize the procedure.
The intimidating official portrait featuring the former president, scowling toward visitors at the U.S. consulate in Sydney – where I performed the citizenship relinquishment – provided the final motivation. I understand I'm choosing the proper direction for my circumstances and during the official questioning about potential coercion, I truthfully answer no.
A fortnight later I received my certificate of renunciation and my voided travel papers to retain as mementos. My name will reportedly appear on a federal registry. I merely wish that future visa applications will be approved during potential return trips.