Dual Nationality

I suppose the reason it has taken so long to write this is mainly due to the fact that I don't think anyone ever reads this blog. However this is perhaps one of the biggest disappointments in my life and I feel it is something I would like to share. Although it has not affected my life in real terms, it has however had a big impact on how I feel about myself and therefore I feel it might help to share it. My mother is English and my father is American. He was serving over here in the early sixties in the American Air Force when he met my mother. For whatever reason when I was born, probably because my parents were seperated at the time because of my Fathers short posting to France, my Mother decided not to put his name on the birth certificate. This has probably in hindsight been the biggest hurdle to achieving what I later wanted to do in life. I don't know why my folks eventually split up although I suspect it was my Mothers decision as my Father loved her very much. That is not to say anything against my Mother as it was a difficult decision to take in the 1960's and bring up a baby on her own with little or no support from the state. I won't talk about my childhood (maybe that will be another entry) but suffice to say we didn't have a lot of money although my Dad did help out even though he was back in the States and he always kept in touch with me and despite my Mothers decision when I was born she never wanted me to lose touch with him. I remember he came over when I was about eight or nine and it was a big event in my life especially as it would end up being several years before I got to see him again. The first time I ever met him in the US was when I was 15 when he paid for me to fly over to see him in Massachussettes. This was a huge step for me to take as I could not remember him from his brief visit when I was a young child. I didn’t even know what he looked like so I had taken a photo of him with me on the flight so I would recognise him when I landed at Logan Airport. One of my earliest memories is of sitting on the plane wondering whether this man sat next to me on the plane could in fact be my Father as he looked remarkably like the man in the photo. Needless to say it wasn't. It was even more nerve wracking when I was stood in the Arrivals hall of Logan Airport and I felt this hand on my shoulder and this voice saying: 'hello son'. From that point on I really began to get to know my Dad and it has not always been plain sailing, but we have, despite the several thousand miles of ocean between us built up quite a good realtionship over the years which sort of finally brings me to the point of this blog entry. I have always been aware of the fact that on my birth ceritificate the only entry under my Fathers name is a line of dots and that’s it. As I built up a relationshipo with my father I have always wanted some form of official recognition that he is my Father. After my first visit with him I wrote to the US Embassy in London to ask whether it would be possible to apply for dual nationality and over the years I have tried a couple of additional times. All obviously with no success. The official line is that as my parents were not married and as at the time no laws existed in the relevant nations or states that recognised illegitamate children in this way I have no right to dual nationality. I don't think even the official embassy people - now Homeland Security I think - dount I am who I say I am as my Father registered me as his next of kin on his Air Force papers at the time. Its just that the law applies at the time of the birth and not what ever changes may have occurred since. The first time I got this answer I even went to see my Member of Parliament who asked questions in the House of Commons but again it never camne to anything. We even arranged for official declarations to be signed by family members but again with no joy. Over the years as I say I have tried a couple of times again in the vain hope that the law may have changed. The people I spoke to from Homeland Security have always been very understanding but unfortunately unable to help. I suppose when I was a teenager the intention was that I do it so that I could move over and live for a longer period with my Father but as time went on and I established a life over here I did it more from the fact that it would give me some official recognition of who I am. Its very frustrating when I travel to see him and see the number of of people who have moved to the USA to start new lives and eventually no doubt claim US citizenship and I have no chance. I can't be the only person in this situation and it is frustrating. I suppose I have accepted it but even now I guess I am hoping somoeone will read this and take pity on me, but then again no-one has ever read anything else I have written,, but at least I have had the opportunity to get this bug bear off my chest. If you have any comments please feel free to get in touch it would be great to hear from you stevecova1@googlemail.com