As a dual citizen, I feel deeply conflicted about Canada opening its border to Americans

When Canada closed its border with the United States in March 2020, I broke out in a cold sweat. I found myself, a dual citizen, suddenly teetering between two worlds. On one side was my home in Vancouver where I live and work, and on the other was my family.

My mother, who is 83 years old, had just moved to Washington state in the US to be closer to me, her only daughter who she depends on for care and companionship. After making several phone calls, I learned that neither country could technically keep me from entering because of my dual citizenship. But the fear remained the same. (Australia would later deny its citizens the right to return from India and New Zealand continues to stagger the return of its citizens from abroad, proving that my fears were not unfounded.)

I’m not the only one with close ties across the nearly-invisible line between Canada and the US. We enjoy a “special relationship”, as politicians on both sides are fond of reminding us. It is not unusual for people to live on one side and work on the other, or to have children going to school across the border who return home for the weekends. In less than half an hour, I can be across the border with my Nexus card in one hand and my favourite burrito from a taco stand in the other.

We do indeed share a special relationship. But over the past year-and-a-half, we have endured a difficult breakup. And although the closed border has made my life extraordinarily difficult, I am deeply conflicted about Canada reopening its borders to US citizens.

Thinking this way makes me feel like I’m betraying one half of my nationality. But my country of birth — the United States — over these past few years has put me in a painful position.

When I moved to Canada and became a citizen in 2010, the world was completely different. Many Canadians looked up to Americans as their older brothers and welcomed me as part-celebrity, part-family. However, in the past four years this image has changed dramatically. Even friends started looking at me warily, wondering: just what kind of American was I? When Canadian friends asked me to explain the rise of racism, violence, and divisive politics in the US, I was left speechless.

Now we imagine the Americans coming freely across our border once again. Coming with their wide-eyed wonder, admiring our wide open spaces; coming with their business initiatives and their credit cards. Coming with their enthusiastic laughter, their louder voices and their more direct conversation. But also coming with Covid.

I am not alone in imagining hoards of anti-vaxxers compromising our country. And just as a spurned ex might feel, my fellow Canadians and I wonder why America has not yet reciprocated in opening its borders to fully vaccinated Canadians.

Canada has now surpassed per capita the US’s vaccination rate. We started with less supply, a narrower centralized distribution system, and the same questions and uncertainty regarding the vaccine’s effectiveness. And yet many states in the United States have less than a 50 percent vaccination rate, while Canada has reached 80 percent of those eligible. Why would we be eager to open our borders to these cousins who have grown distant over the years and become more of a curiosity than a family?

Because like it or not, we are family. We share a common history, a common language and a common desire for a peaceful and prosperous North America.

The Americans are coming and we’re getting ready. But forgive us if we still don’t know quite how to feel about it.