Editor’s note: This op-ed is by Nancy Wasserman, a consultant who divides her time between Montpelier and Ottawa, Ontario.
The following was sent to the three members of Vermont’s congressional delegation.
On a Sunday morning this past February, I finally started to take the green license plates with the fat bird (aka a peregrine falcon) off my car – plates I’ve had since 1997 when Vermont introduced the conservation plate. Started, because only the front one would come off easily. Caked with a dozen-plus years of rust, salt and dirt, the four screws holding the rear plate, refused to budge. WD-40, an extra long Phillips head screwdriver, tapping, patience, Liquid Wrench – not a millimeter of give. Installing my new Ontario license plates is one of the final steps in my multi-year move to Canada. The stubborn plates, a visible reminder of the difficulty of border straddling and my decision to move away from Vermont.
I’ve lived in Vermont since 1979, pretty much my entire adult life. And although I had, like many left-leaning Americans, uttered the phrase “I can always move to Canada” over various frustrations with government policies, I never expected to do so. I had a house, a business and a large community of friends in Vermont. I embraced the Vermont ethic of community and fully participated – by 2006 I had worked with dozens of nonprofits, governments and sustainable businesses from one end of Vermont to the other. I had served on dozens of nonprofit boards, chaired planning commissions in two Vermont towns (OK, so I’m a bit of a masochist) and had recently be elected as a Montpelier city councilor.
I loved the state and its landscape, hiking the Long Trail twice. I fully expected to stay in Vermont for as long as I could and was about to move my parents within a few miles of my Montpelier home. I certainly never expected to move to a place with winters that are equally long, summers that are more humid and few, if any, mountains.
But about the same time my folks moved to Vermont, I fell in love with a Canadian. For the better part of four years, we each traveled back and forth an average of once a month – a trip ranging from 4½ to seven hours, depending on the lines at the border and traffic through Montreal. Finally, like many couples we hit that day of reckoning – were we prepared to commit to building a life together? The answer was yes. Neither of us are young — we each had full lives with jobs, families and friends in our respective communities. But unlike most couples, we did not weigh the pros and cons about which community we would live in – we are same-sex partners. Unfortunately, there was simply no choice.
Vermont may recognize same-sex marriages, but the federal government which oversees immigration, does not. That meant no pathway to a spousal green card or access to Medicare or health insurance for my retirement-ready partner. It also means no access for her to my Social Security benefits if something were to happen to me. Unlike many binational same-sex couples, we’re lucky – Canada recognizes same-sex partners and treats us like any other married couple. Within a year of applying, I secured permanent residency, the Canadian equivalent of a green card. I’m eligible for a portion of my partner’s pension and recently qualified for Canadian health care. I continue to visit Vermont, monitor local news websites and, thanks to the Internet, am navigating working for clients in both Canada and the U.S. I’m still learning the intricacies of cross-border employment, banking and taxes, but I’m now a Canadian for tax purposes (even though as an American citizen, I will have the lifelong privelege of filing tax returns in both places …)
I’m excited and challenged by my new life in Canada, but after decades of commitment and service in Vermont, I would have preferred to have had the option of being with the woman I love and staying in the state. I know and appreciate that you have been a leader in the efforts to approve the Uniting American Families Act and repeal the Defense of Marriage Act. It is precisely because of your efforts that I wanted to make certain you knew how current law affects someone you know, one of your (now former) constituents, not just immigration reform advocates or people from other communities.
