Five years ago I became an Australian citizen, after having lived here for five years, at the time it made me questions, or at least reflect on what this meant to my sense of identity. As an expat with many friends who are in a similar situation the topic of one’s nationality is often a discussion that comes up and I still have a fairly fluid sense of who or what I am.
For example on Saint George’s Day I still wear my England football top in honour of the day, for those of you that don’t know this is the feast day of Saint George, patron saint of the English. Also I found myself incredibly engrossed by the debate around Scottish independence and I felt oddly engaged in a way that really surprised me. I felt like I ought to have some kind of a say, or at least a right to an opinion, but am I Scottish? As mentioned in this blog before I was born in England, but spent some of my early years living in Africa, but I have a very Scottish surname, my grandfather on my father’s side was very much a Scott. My father died recently and in an odd way I felt more of a connection with my Scottish roots as a result, because I wanted to feel a closer link to my dad’s history and sense of belonging.
However, I now have two boys who are both Australian and British but primarily Australian really (their mother being Australian) and I feel more connection to Australia via them, and their extended family they have here.
So who should I cheer for in international sporting events like the Rugby World Cup? Well clearly it is Australia at this stage given they have made it to the finals, and for now I’ll worry about the conundrum of should it be England or Australia should they ever be going head-to-head in the final someday, till then my sense nationality shall remain in flux.