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| Would you say you love America to get a US passport? | Would you say you love America to get a US passport? |
| (8 days later) | |
| Every few years in Britain, the subject of the citizenship test comes up, to the sound of collective scoffing. Native Britons try it, fail it, and poke fun at the whole thing as a meaningless gesture. In the US, by contrast, the citizenship process is taken more seriously, in a way that is both easy to mock and also the delivery system via which, Trump notwithstanding, foreigners are able to become Americans – in contrast to the way that, in the UK, they can’t become wholly British. The US idea is more porous and inclusive, and as a result is more vigorously defended. | Every few years in Britain, the subject of the citizenship test comes up, to the sound of collective scoffing. Native Britons try it, fail it, and poke fun at the whole thing as a meaningless gesture. In the US, by contrast, the citizenship process is taken more seriously, in a way that is both easy to mock and also the delivery system via which, Trump notwithstanding, foreigners are able to become Americans – in contrast to the way that, in the UK, they can’t become wholly British. The US idea is more porous and inclusive, and as a result is more vigorously defended. |
| This week, a Spanish friend went for her US citizenship test, the first time she had sat an exam for almost 40 years, and she had a panic attack on the subway. In advance of the test, she did some mock drills on the internet. The questions ranged wildly from the bleeding obvious to the abstract, to the one she least wanted to answer: “Why are you here?” Open questions can seem like a trick, but clearly the response being fished for in this case was: “I’m here because I love America.” She wasn’t convinced she could say it. | This week, a Spanish friend went for her US citizenship test, the first time she had sat an exam for almost 40 years, and she had a panic attack on the subway. In advance of the test, she did some mock drills on the internet. The questions ranged wildly from the bleeding obvious to the abstract, to the one she least wanted to answer: “Why are you here?” Open questions can seem like a trick, but clearly the response being fished for in this case was: “I’m here because I love America.” She wasn’t convinced she could say it. |
| I have been in the US for almost 10 years and I can’t say I love it, either. I admire it. I find it awesome, in the old-fashioned sense of the word. But even after all these years I can’t see its vulnerabilities clearly enough to say that I love it. Even if I did, however, being forced to state that love to an immigration official would strongly incline me to withhold. | I have been in the US for almost 10 years and I can’t say I love it, either. I admire it. I find it awesome, in the old-fashioned sense of the word. But even after all these years I can’t see its vulnerabilities clearly enough to say that I love it. Even if I did, however, being forced to state that love to an immigration official would strongly incline me to withhold. |
| This is, of course, a cultural hangover of my own. Any British test probing for patriotic fervour would do well to reward an applicant for sneering at the question, since the only proper way to express love for this country is to cheerfully deride it as useless. | This is, of course, a cultural hangover of my own. Any British test probing for patriotic fervour would do well to reward an applicant for sneering at the question, since the only proper way to express love for this country is to cheerfully deride it as useless. |
| In the event, my friend was asked which three colours are on the Stars and Stripes – and why the colonisers came to the US. | In the event, my friend was asked which three colours are on the Stars and Stripes – and why the colonisers came to the US. |
| “What did you say?” I said. | “What did you say?” I said. |
| “To escape high taxes,” she said. | “To escape high taxes,” she said. |
| “What did you say that for?” | “What did you say that for?” |
| She looked glum. “I have no idea. It just came to me.” | She looked glum. “I have no idea. It just came to me.” |
| Anyway she passed, and was ecstatic. The next thing will be the citizenship ceremony, which even the most cynical are said to find moving and, unlike that in the UK, never conjures thoughts of Ukip-style allegiances. | Anyway she passed, and was ecstatic. The next thing will be the citizenship ceremony, which even the most cynical are said to find moving and, unlike that in the UK, never conjures thoughts of Ukip-style allegiances. |
| Back to the stone age | Back to the stone age |
| The best test for exposing one’s ignorance is children. At the weekend, I took my two year old daughters to New York’s Natural History Museum, and we wandered around while they made bear sounds and tried to press things that weren’t buttons. In the geology hall, we gazed at huge fossils that hung behind glass. | The best test for exposing one’s ignorance is children. At the weekend, I took my two year old daughters to New York’s Natural History Museum, and we wandered around while they made bear sounds and tried to press things that weren’t buttons. In the geology hall, we gazed at huge fossils that hung behind glass. |
| “That’s a fossil,” I said importantly, feeling virtuous for doing something educational on a weekend. “What’s a fossil?” asked my daughter. | “That’s a fossil,” I said importantly, feeling virtuous for doing something educational on a weekend. “What’s a fossil?” asked my daughter. |
| Why do I never learn? There was a long pause. “It’s a very old stone that something died in,” I said. This hung in the air while I became aware of a group of tourists immediately to my right, whom I hoped weren’t speakers of English. “Oh,” she said brightly and skipped up the ramp to look at something to do with the water table, for which I would be offering no introduction. | Why do I never learn? There was a long pause. “It’s a very old stone that something died in,” I said. This hung in the air while I became aware of a group of tourists immediately to my right, whom I hoped weren’t speakers of English. “Oh,” she said brightly and skipped up the ramp to look at something to do with the water table, for which I would be offering no introduction. |
| Wild at heart | Wild at heart |
| The other trip we took at the weekend was five minutes on a ferry across the East river to Governors Island. It is an uninhabited nature reserve which, in the summer, serves as a recreation ground for New Yorkers. It is lovely: huge butterflies, tall grasses, over the top of which appear the reassuring sight of the skyscrapers of downtown. It is often said there are no truly wild spaces left, but there is something about being in a place without cars, separated by water but 30 minutes from home, that feels to me wilder than anything. The appeal of the strange in the midst of the familiar. | The other trip we took at the weekend was five minutes on a ferry across the East river to Governors Island. It is an uninhabited nature reserve which, in the summer, serves as a recreation ground for New Yorkers. It is lovely: huge butterflies, tall grasses, over the top of which appear the reassuring sight of the skyscrapers of downtown. It is often said there are no truly wild spaces left, but there is something about being in a place without cars, separated by water but 30 minutes from home, that feels to me wilder than anything. The appeal of the strange in the midst of the familiar. |
| • Emma Brockes is a Guardian columnist | • Emma Brockes is a Guardian columnist |