United States, I Still Find So Much to Adore About You, But We Have to Break Up: Here's Why I'm Renouncing My American Citizenship
After six decades together, United States, our partnership must conclude. Though fondness remains, the romantic connection has faded and the time has come to go our separate ways. This departure is voluntary, despite the sorrow it brings, because you possess countless wonderful qualities.
Scenic Wonders and Innovative Energy
Beginning with your magnificent protected lands, towering redwood forests and distinctive animal species to the magical illumination of lightning bugs amid cornfields on summer evenings and the brilliant fall colors, your natural splendor is extraordinary. Your capacity to ignite innovation appears limitless, as demonstrated by the inspiring individuals I've encountered within your borders. Many of my most cherished memories revolve around flavors that will forever remind me of you – cinnamon spice, pumpkin pie, grape jelly. But, America, you've become increasingly difficult to understand.
Ancestral History and Changing Connection
Were I drafting a farewell message to the United States, that's how it would begin. I've qualified as an "unintentional U.S. citizen" from delivery because of my paternal lineage and centuries of ancestors before him, commencing in the seventeenth century including revolutionary and civil war soldiers, shared genetic material with a former president plus multiple eras of settlers who journeyed across the nation, from Massachusetts and New Jersey to Ohio, Pennsylvania, Illinois and Kansas.
I experience deep honor regarding my ancestral background and their contributions to America's narrative. My dad grew up through economic hardship; his ancestor fought as a Marine in France in the global conflict; his single-parent ancestor operated a farm with nine children; his great-uncle assisted rebuild San Francisco after the 1906 earthquake; and his grandfather campaigned as a state senator.
Yet despite this quintessentially American heritage, I find myself no longer feeling connected with the country. This feeling intensifies given the perplexing and concerning political atmosphere that makes me doubt the meaning of national belonging. This phenomenon has been labeled "citizen insecurity" – and I recognize the symptoms. 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 for eight years. I've maintained Australian nationality for most of my life and have no plans to live, work or study within America subsequently. Furthermore, I'm certain I'll never need emergency extraction – thus no functional requirement for me to retain U.S. citizenship.
Furthermore, the obligation as an American national to file yearly financial documentation, despite neither living or employed there or eligible for services, proves burdensome and anxiety-inducing. America stands with merely two countries globally – the other being Eritrea – that implement levies according to nationality instead of location. And financial compliance is mandatory – it's documented within travel documents.
Certainly, a tax agreement exists connecting both nations, 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
I've been informed that eventually the U.S. government will enforce compliance and administer substantial fines on delinquent individuals. These measures affect not only extremely wealthy figures like Boris Johnson but every U.S. citizen abroad must fulfill obligations.
Although financial matters aren't the main cause for my renunciation, the annual expense and stress of filing returns proves distressing and basic financial principles suggest it represents poor investment. But neglecting U.S. tax responsibilities would mean that visiting including extra worry about potential denial at immigration due to irregular status. Or, I might defer settlement for inheritance processing after death. Neither alternative seems acceptable.
Possessing American travel documentation constitutes an opportunity many newcomers earnestly attempt to obtain. Yet this advantage that creates discomfort personally, so I'm taking action, despite the $2,350 cost to complete the process.
The threatening formal photograph featuring the former president, glowering at attendees at the U.S. consulate in Sydney – where I recited the renunciation oath – 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.
Two weeks afterward I received my certificate of renunciation and my canceled passport to retain as mementos. My name will reportedly appear on a federal registry. I simply hope that subsequent travel authorization gets granted during potential return trips.