Celebrating the right to vote and mourning my lack of it.

A few months after I moved to Edinburgh in September 2002, my electoral roll papers arrived in the mail at my student residence. I half knew already that as a Commonwealth student I was eligible to vote in both the Scottish and wider United Kingdom elections, but it was still a delightful surprise. Here I was a foreign national (despite a cultural ancestry more Scottish than many native-born Scots) being welcomed into the national political debate. My vote counted and it made me feel very much a part of British politics.

This was 2003, just as Britain was entering the war in Iraq and political debates really seemed to  mean something. Labour was dominant, the Lib Dems were flourishing and no one was imagining a time when they might go into coalition with the Tories. The notion was laughable. Also, coming from a small country at the end of the world, it was exhilarating to vote alongside tens of millions of other people in elections that had direct world consequences. (Sorry, New Zealand.) I kept up on political issues from both Holyrood and Westminster. I debated the issues. I learned the nuances of British political life. I began to know them better than the issues back in New Zealand, but you better believe that I kept my name on the electoral roll at home and submitted my postal vote come election time.

Voting is at the front of my mind this week, with a national election taking place in New Zealand on Saturday 20th September and the referendum on Scottish Independence on Thursday 18th. Obviously I am no longer eligible to vote in Scotland, but those few years of enfranchisement in the mid 2000s mean I am still very invested in what goes on in my former home. Because former home can also mean future home. Such decisions are rarely off the table.

I’ve always been politically motivated. New Zealand was the first country to grant universal suffrage to women in 1893 and I come from a political family. I have been raised to think of election day as a day of celebration in itself, regardless of the result. My first general election was a wrestling between family tradition and a changing personal conviction. I have regretted some of my voting choices, but I have always thought it through and been proud just to vote.      

But I am not eligible to vote in the country of my residence and I mourn the lack of it. 

Canada only allows citizens to vote. I am a permanent resident and though permanent residents of countries like the United Kingdom and New Zealand may vote, in Canada my status means I may not vote federally, provincially, or even municipally. This policy is not unusual, but for a political soul enfranchisement means belonging. Therefore, I will never belong in Canada until I am a citizen and can vote.

Interestingly, there is talk of extending the time it takes to become a citizen in Canada. Currently, after three years as a permanent resident, you may apply for citizenship. This may be changed to four years, meaning that it will take approximately six years to become a Canadian. Six years without a vote.

The rationale is that this time will guarantee that new Canadians are invested in their life in Canada. That it’s not just an easy road to citizenship.

I don’t dispute that four years might be a good idea, but I do dispute my restriction from having a political voice. How can I possibly feel invested in this country if I may not participate in its decision making? Even though I naturally keep up with politics, I'm just not as emotionally involved with Canadian political news. It's not my business; I am a foreigner whose opinion is invalid.

Consequently, I will make sure I maintain sufficient contact with my home country so that I may have a political voice. This will mean making sure I’m home for at least a month every two or three years to keep my name on the electoral roll.

Not exactly the idea Canada intended.

I very much doubt my opinion will change Canadian policy, but I highly recommend they take the United Kingdom’s approach of allowing permanent residents and even some temporary residents the right to vote.

And whatever happens after the 18th - if the Union stands or falls - I hope the countries that form the British Isles maintain that welcoming policy of enfranchisement and belonging.