My Ancestors Came to America Too Early

I went rooting through my family history recently. Cool stuff popped up…but not cool enough. 

Turns out one of my ancestors on my mom’s side was on the Mayflower. And turns out one of my relatives (maybe a grandfather several “greats” back) was mayor of New York City during the Civil War years—and yet I do not own part of Central Park or at least a brownstone in Brooklyn. Galling! 

But the fact that has me more bummed is that my family came to America too damn early! 

By which I mean I cannot use my ancestors’ nationality (Dutch, Irish, Scottish) to land a second passport. And I really—really—want a second passport for two reasons… 

A: It’s a cool lifestyle accessory. 

But more important is B: It’s a key to a world of benefits, some of which could literally save your life. 

Great as it is to be an American, being an American outside of America does carry risks in certain places.  

Frankly, I’ve never felt targeted across the 75 countries I’ve so far visited, but the fact remains that carrying an American passport exposes you to potential danger. In a sour situation where bad dudes are specifically targeting certain Western nationalities, I would much prefer to whip out a passport from a country that doesn’t evoke fits of rage—like Ireland or Portugal or the Czech Republic, where I currently live. 

Beyond the risks, however, are the opportunities, including the freedom to work in one or more overseas countries…and the ability to pass your passport nationality onto your children. 

To that end, I was recently chatting with one of my best friends about her path to Irish citizenship. 

She gained it through her husband nearly 20 years ago. His paternal grandparents had immigrated to Baltimore in the early 1900s. And unlike so many immigrants, they arrived with their original Irish birth certificates. 

Well, skip ahead many decades and my friend is moving to Ireland for a job. She’ll easily get a work visa, but not her husband. She realizes, however, that if they can prove his Irish ancestry, he could just apply for a passport and become an Irish citizen, which would allow him to live and work in Ireland (or any of the other 26 countries of the European Union). 

Fortunately, it turns out his mother was a bit of a hoarder. She had preserved all the family’s records, including those original Irish birth certificates, marriage certificates, and death certificates of my friend’s husband’s grandparents. 

With those documents, her husband had everything of importance to prove his Irish lineage. He filed the necessary paperwork, paid about €100 in application fees…and within three months, he was an Irish citizen. (Today, the wait time is significantly longer, as much as two years, due to the huge numbers of British people seeking Irish citizenship since Brexit.) 

Through that process, my friend, as his spouse, was able to gain an Irish passport as well. And so was their daughter. 

“For me, I take tremendous peace of mind in having an Irish passport,” she told me. “It saves me time and hassles when I travel because I can use the EU lines in Europe, and outside of Europe I can use it for visa-free travel in places where Americans need a visa. And I can see how it opens up retirement possibilities later for me and my husband.” 

But what she likes the most is that it gives her daughter, a high-school senior, a great amount of career flexibility. 

“She’s American-educated, now speaks Chinese, and she has an EU passport from Ireland. She can go overseas just about anywhere and employers are gonna want that background. And she will be ‘Irish.’ I much prefer that for her in this world.” 

Wish I could say that I can give my kids something similar. Alas, not yet. Maybe one day, if I manage to obtain a second passport from the Czech Republic or somewhere else in Europe. 

In the meantime, I’m just gonna hold a small grudge against my family