There
were some concrete benefits to waiting. As a 16-year-old, she now gets a passport
valid for 10 years, like the rest of us grownups, rather than the five-year
passports issued to kids.
Less
crucial, but still an advantage, is the fact that since my daughter is now “of
age”, we parents are not needed for application purposes. Prior to this, both my
wife (who is not a US citizen) and I needed to make an appearance at the US Consulate
in five years intervals to renew each of our children’s passports.
The
sad rationale (as I believe) for the policy of both parents showing up is to ensure
one who is a US citizen and facing the breakup of his or her marriage can’t
impulsively arrange travel documents for the kids and sneak them out of the
country without the other parent’s knowledge. This is an extremely heartbreaking
risk of transnational marriages, and it does happen.
Some
ten years ago, there were a couple of widely publicized cases of such parental
child abductions in the opposite
direction, with Finnish mothers refusing to return their American-Finnish
children to the US. Fighting over who gets to keep the kids in a divorce is bad
enough, but it can be made even uglier because of dual citizenship, which is
otherwise usually a win-win arrangement for those who have it.
All
my children are dual US and Finnish citizens. Though they were born here in
Helsinki, they were also born American thanks to US law, which grants citizenship
to the children of native-born Americans who live abroad. (Donald Trump, take
note: Barack Obama would be a US citizen, even if he had been born – against all evidence – in Kenya, and not Hawaii.)
To
certify the citizenship of their children, expat Americans need to obtain a “Consular
Report of Birth” from the US State Department. Soon after each of our children
were born, we schlepped down to the US Embassy, taking with us various
documentation (Finnish birth certificate, marriage license, etc.), and of
course the actual baby in question, in order to apply for the report of birth
and a passport.
When
I first came to Finland, a visit to the US Consulate was a simple affair. The
American diplomatic mission to Finland occupies a small campus of mostly Georgian-style
buildings on the edge of Kaivopuisto, a scenic park overlooking the sea and
islands off Helsinki’s southern shore. I distinctly remember on my first visits
there driving into the complex and parking right outside the front door of the gray,
gabled Consulate building.
Those
were more innocent times. Things started to change after the 1983 suicide
bombing that killed 241 US servicemen in Lebanon. Security at the Helsinki embassy,
as I’m sure with all US missions, became tighter over the years following that,
and after 9/11 became extremely rigorous. Sadly, a visit to the Consulate
nowadays is a grim reminder of the potential threats oversea Americans face, though
such worries are not something that ordinarily intrudes on our lives.
 |
| Photo credit: Noble |
Today,
while the Embassy complex in Kaivopuisto is undergoing extensive renovation, the
Consulate is operating out of a temporarily location in downtown, which means security
is even tighter than normal, if that’s possible.
Still,
it’s a relatively busy place. Once my daughter and I found it and got through
the security check, we shared the waiting room with three people seeking US
visas: a Helsinki-based African scholar
and two 16-year-old Finnish girls off to spend a year as high school exchange
students in Idaho and Massachusetts.
After
a relatively short wait (I can remember some interminable waits on previous
visits), the whole thing went smoothly and we were done. The Consulate staff
was, as you would expect, business-like, but also really pretty friendly. Interacting
with the other Americans there was a bit like briefly being back home in the
States – which, in a sense, it was.
Still,
I’m not unhappy about not having to return there any time soon. My daughter
will get her new passport by mail, hopefully before our upcoming trip to North
America in a few weeks. Otherwise, she would have to travel on her Finnish
passport and apply for a “visa waiver”.
Most
Finns don’t need a visa to visit the US, because in effect they are granted a
waiver. Before 1991, this was automatically granted upon arrival, on the basis
of a form visitors could fill out on the plane. Simple. And free. Nowadays, they must obtain
the waiver online before departing, at a cost of $14. That’s simpler than
visiting the Consulate for an actual visa, and cheaper, but still a bit of a hassle
for Finns traveling to the US.
It’s
a small hassle my children can avoid, not to mention the longer lines and
probing questions at immigration that non-citizens have to endure. That's one of the perks they, as dual citizens, enjoy along with all the other rights of Americans, though
they’ve spent their entire lives in Finland.
When my boys were young, however, I worried they
might lose those rights when they turned 18. Finnish men of that age must
register for military or civilian service, and according to the law at the time
dual citizens joining the Finnish army had to give up their other citizenship.
Thankfully, the law was changed before my sons had to choose between being
Finnish or American.
I
would never give up my US citizenship myself, and have never much felt the need
to take on Finnish citizenship. I have permanent residency here. I can come and
go and work as I please. The only complication is that whenever I renew my
passport, I need to have a new stamp added.
Lately
I have been thinking that after being a resident for 25 or so odd years, maybe
it’s time to apply for become a kansalainen
as well. And maybe, just maybe, after a few months of cramming I could even
pass the very daunting language exam required to apply. If not, it’s no big deal,
since I’m perfectly happy with the citizenship I have.
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