I gave myself a few extensions, but ultimately I blinked first, before the hard Brexiters, the Prime Minister, the EU negotiators and even Jeremy Corbyn (and his constructive ambiguity strategists). Roughly two years, this is how long I sat on the application for British naturalisation. But it was not an exercise in the noble art of procrastination. To be fair, I was a relatively early taker of ‘permanent residence’ (PR) which I applied for in December 2016, six months after the EU referendum.
The name is a bit of a misnomer; your Permanent Residence is only permanentfor as long as the UK is a member of the EU – but it also happens, thanks to Theresa May who championed this change when at the Home Office, to be a requirement for applying for naturalisation. The envelope with the PR arrived at my home three month later and I immediately booked my Life in the UKtest (another requirement) for the following week. Having successfully taken the test, I went back home with my ‘pass’ certificate. By March 2017, nine months after the referendum, there was nothing left between me and the naturalisation application, apart from £ 1349.20 and the Brexit negotiations
By March 2017, nine months after the referendum, there was nothing left between me and the naturalisation application, apart from £ 1349.20 and the Brexit negotiations.
Two years came and went. In the meantime my team spoke and interviewed dozens of EU nationals for the Eurochildren project, asked them how they were coping with the uncertainty of the Brexit process. We shared anecdotes, worries and plans. Together with an array of feelings, captured by the wordcloud below, ‘a sentimental helter-skelter’ as one of our participants called it: anger, disillusionment, hope (occasionally), frustration, uncertainty, anxiety, and precariousness.
