︎ Kotono Watanabe 渡邊こと乃
Interior Designer
Minneapolis, Minnesota, U.S.
translated by Peng Wu
Permanent Residency
I often have been thinking back to May 2019. When I applied for a Green Card so that I could work post-graduation without fear of deportation back in May of 2020.
My partner sponsored my Green Card application. We had been married in City Hall in February. We spent nearly nine months grappling with delays from a Trumpian system which rejected my birth certificate despite similar documentation passing historically.
Finally we were approved to interview in person at the Customs and Immigration office in downtown Minneapolis. The lobby was nearly empty. Our lawyer was unsettled. Later we were told that our case was the last one our lawyer handled before the pandemic.
The initial questions of the immigration process are largely financial:
- Can my partner support me? (yes)
- Am I employed? (yes, I have an internship)
- Do I expect to use government assistance? (no, I am a well-qualified, soon to be college-educated professional employed in a notable design office)
The interview was also peppered with strangely personal questions which we had been preparing and packaging our relationship for the approval of this government employee’s review; photos of our trips together, love letters, and an Affidavit Letter of Support from my host mom.
We told the interviewer of our plans to celebrate our marriage with both of our families and friends present. We told him of how in May of 2020 my mom and sister would fly from Japan to watch me graduate and then witness me exchanging vows with my partner.
I received the Green Card approval on March 13th, 2020, while on Spring Break right as my school and life transferred to lock down. By the end of my semester I graduated via zoom while emailing the link to my family back home. My wedding ceremony was postponed to an unknown future date. I got laid off from the firm two weeks prior to my graduation, and I applied for unemployment Insurance.
Each of the milestones and hallmarks of a successful Green Card interview were set for May of 2020 and each came and passed, caught up in the global and national churning.
Since July 2018, I have not been able to go home in Japan. I have not been able to hug my mother who lives alone. My grandfather who is 85 expresses to her that he might not make it until my next return, I know he is exaggerating. But the fear of not being able to see them for who knows how long in addition to the fear of “what if they get the virus” often passes through my mind. My family, however, is more concerned about me being in the U.S. as all they hear about on the news is how poorly the virus has been handled in this country.
Putting a check in each box of immigration process, graduation, and wedding (hopefully soon) was a way to represent my independence and appreciation to my family. Despite how fortunate I was to be approved for my Green Card, and was able to finish my education, I learned that all I could do was to be patient- and I’m going to wait, more. The status of Permanent Resident has never sounded so ominous.
Do I miss my home?
Yes.
Do I miss the smell of home?
Yes.
Do I miss the language I exchange with my friends and family?
Yes.
Do I miss the meals with my mother?
Yes.
I will wait for these and many more moments I miss, love, and cherish. I’m just going to wait. Because time passes no matter what.
When I get sad I think of my Mom saying, no matter what’s happening we’re looking at the same sky. Recently, I’ve tried to spend more time looking up.
Kotono Watanabe // 渡邊こと乃
︎ 渡边琴乃 渡邊こと乃
室内设计师
明尼阿波利斯，明尼苏达 美国
永久居留
我经常回想起2019年的5月。我申请了绿卡，这样可以在毕业后工作，而不必担心在2020年5月被驱逐出境。
我的丈夫作为我的绿卡申请人。我们二月份在市政厅结婚了。我们花了将近快9个月的时间在特朗普政府造成的拖延中挣扎，他们拒绝了我的出生证明，尽管过去类似的文件都可以通过审核。
最终，我们被批准在明尼阿波利斯市区的海关和移民局进行面试。大堂几乎是空的。我们的律师看起来很不安。后来我们被告知，我们的案件是我们的律师在大流行之前处理的最后一个案件。
移民过程的最初问题主要是财务问题：
-我的伴侣可以支持我吗？ （是）
-我受雇了吗？ （是的，我有一份实习工作。）
-我希望使用政府援助吗？ （不，我是一个马上会拿到大学学位的有竞争力的设计师，不久将受聘于著名的设计事务。）
采访中还出现了很多奇怪的私人问题，我们一直有在整理归类材料证据以表明我们之间的情感关系，以获得这类政府雇员的审查；比如我们一起旅行的照片，情书，和寄宿妈妈的誓章支持信。
我们告诉政府官员我们计划与在场的家人和朋友庆祝我们的婚姻。我们告诉他，到2020年5月，我的妈妈和妹妹将如何从日本飞来参加我的毕业典礼，然后目睹我与伴侣的婚礼和誓词。
我在2020年3月13日的紧要关头获得了绿卡许可，这时正是学校春假期间，整个学校和生活开启了疫情封锁模式。在学期末，我通过Zoom（视频在线）参加了毕业典礼，我通过电子邮件将视频链接发送给我的家人。我的婚礼推迟到一个未来的不确定日期。毕业前两周，我被公司解雇了，只好申请了失业保险。
为了成功获得绿卡的一系列面试时间都定于2020年5月，却都在全球和全国范围内的动荡从错过了。
自2018年7月以来，我一直无法回到日本的家。我无法拥抱独自一人的母亲。我85岁的祖父跟母亲说，他可能等不到我下次回来了，虽然我知道他有些夸大其词。“也许再也没办法见到他们了”和“如果他们感染了病毒怎么办“这些担忧时常出现在我脑海。而对我的家人而言，他们更担心的是我在美国的生活，因为他们在新闻中听到的所有信息都是美国应对病毒的结果有多糟糕。
完成移民程序，完成毕业典礼和完成婚礼（希望很快）这每一件事仿佛都是在对我的家人表示我可以独立了，同时也是表达我对家人的感激之情。尽管我很幸运地获得了绿卡的批准，并且完成了学业，但我知道，我所能做的也只是耐心等待下去。并且我还将继续等待下去。“永久居留”这个身份听起来让人感到这么不祥。
我想念我的家吗？
是。
我想念家的味道吗？
是。
我会想念与朋友和家人交流的语言吗？
是。
我想念妈妈的饭菜吗？
是。
我将等待这些我想念，爱护和珍惜的时刻。我会继续的等待。因为时间流逝，无论如何。
当我难过时，我会想起我妈妈的话，无论发生什么事，我们都能够注视同样的一片天空。最近，我尝试花更多时间抬头看看这片天空。