I am very sorry for my absence, dear friends! I have missed this community immensely. Even across cyberspace, I feel your support. I also got a surprising number of emails asking why access to the blog had become “invite only” and soliciting an invite (I’m always amazed to find out how many folks read Corin in Exile!). But don’t worry: it wasn’t really “invite only;” that’s just what comes up on blogspot when you make a blog “private.” I have not actually written anything since I took it down.
So, why was Corin in Exile suddenly offline?
I’ve been contacted several times over the last year to give interviews about our experiences. Most of these folks have made an effort to ensure that we were comfortable with sharing our story and worked to build trust. But several months ago, I was contacted by someone who did not make the same effort. A few weeks ago, our exchanges began to make me feel so vulnerable and disrespected that I needed some space to think about the future of Corin in Exile – which is unfortunately what precipitated my absence.
So, why am I back up? I haven’t reached any sort of deal with this individual about speaking of/linking to/writing about Corin in Exile (or Corin in real life, for that matter). I’m sure this person knows their legal responsibilities, and I know my legal rights, but this isn’t simply a matter of copyrights and ownership. It cuts to the core of what it means to have an online community – and the politics of that community being “open.”
I thought carefully about making this blog public when I first went online, and I decided to do so because I wanted to build a community that could supplement the one I was leaving behind. I also wanted it to be open so that I could meet other exiles and share – candidly – this experience with non-exiles, most of whom have never heard of the 10-year bar. I chose to upload pictures, speak frankly about our lives, and share certain personal information because I wanted folks to understand the ways in which these laws affect real people – young kids in love, like Leo and me, who are just trying to find a patch of stable ground on which to build a life together.
All of you have exceeded my expectations. I have made friends and found support across the world. I am so grateful for this community. Thank you.
Not everyone can be so open, however. Most bloggers in exile cannot use their real names because they have waivers and legal processes pending. The ones who do use their names have often exhausted their options and now have nothing to lose. In fact, some must use their names and share intimate details of their lives because their blogs are the only means of publicizing cases that require special intervention.
We, on the other hand, do not have a waiver pending, nor are we banking on any sort of intervention – although one never knows what the future may bring. I write as myself because 1) I believe that USCIS should have better things to do than trawling the blogosphere for lonely exiles (like processing those waivers of inadmissibility), and 2) I believe that when given trust and responsibility, most individuals rise to the occasion – or, otherwise stated, that readers would come to respect my blog as a safe (albeit public) space and act accordingly.
Yes, I expected a few nasty comments from people whose world views differ drastically from mine, but I never expected someone claiming to be supportive of our situation to make me feel violated, vulnerable, and even more impotent. Unfortunately, that unforeseen situation came to pass recently when I was contacted about an interview for a written project on US immigration policies and bi-national couples.
I won’t share specifics in hopes that the project turns around and ultimately succeeds. I have no interest in causing problems for the individual whose project it is.
In summary, we exchanged a few emails, and I came to realize that I was extremely reticent about being interviewed and also hesitant about being associated with the project at all. When this person ultimately did not appear to respect my request to be left out, I took down the blog. I did not like the idea of my voice being co-opted by someone else for a project with which I was not comfortable. My voice is sacred to me (which I did not believe that this person understood or appreciated).
So, why am I back? Online, my voice is vulnerable. Offline, it is as good as dead (or inappropriately employed in academic papers… a girl’s gotta have a creative outlet!). I am back online, therefore, because I have decided to trust my voice. It is strong enough to tell our story, and should I need to use it to defend that story, I hope it is strong enough for that as well.
Unfortunately, this also means that I feel the need to lay some ground rules for other individuals who might be interested in our story. I usually welcome interviews, and I’m quite certain that most writers and journalists are conscientious and professional, but to avoid future conflicts and misunderstandings, I have listed a handful of boundaries and expectations below (which I am happy to clarify, amend, or discuss further as needed):
The List:
1. Know the Laws: please note the copyright notice (part of the disclaimer at the bottom of the page). I mean it.
2. Know the Ethics: please refer to the Society of Professional Journalists Code of Ethics for a refresher.
3. This Isn't Reality TV: this is our life, and I would ask you to respect that fact. I share certain parts of it in order to build a community and to show the human side of these policies, but it doesn't make the subject matter any less personal. It must also be said that I consider someone using our story – our lives – in furthering their professional ambitions to be tantamount to profiting from our hardship.
4. Respect Boundaries: exiles’ situations are legally complicated. I therefore find very threatening the idea of information circulating about us that I was not part of producing. We are vulnerable and portraying us gives you enormous power over our lives – not just how others perceive us but potentially real power over the outcomes as well. Public missteps could have a disproportionately large impact, so please tread carefully. By allowing you to translate this experience to others, we would be putting immense trust in you.
5. Listen Humbly: too often, good intentions make for the most belligerent allies, who can cause a lot of harm. Good intentions don’t earn you a pass when something goes awry nor will they automatically grant trust. Instead, please start by listening humbly. Unless you’ve also experienced “exile,” you will not instinctively “get it;” that’s not a failing – just a fact. But if you listen, you will learn more and earn more trust. And if you have a question, just ask (and don’t assume); I see no sense in being upset with someone for not knowing – especially if they are willing to learn.
6. Be Reflexive: think long and hard about your privilege and your assumptions around race, culture, and gender in particular. I’m so sorry I have to say this, but I apparently do: imagining or representing bi-racial/bi-national/bi-cultural couples as somehow exotic or erotic is perverse, revealing more about the imaginer than the couples. Bi-racial/bi-national/bi-cultural marriages do come with a handful of externally imposed and internally manifested challenges, but they account for a relatively small part of married life. Really, Leo and I are fairly ordinary people attempting to have a fairly ordinary marriage in totally extraordinary circumstances. He drinks juice from the carton. I hit the snooze button 5 times before getting out of bed. I iron his shirts. He does the dishes. Sometimes we go out for dinner and a movie (and he usually dozes off before the previews even finish). If such images are disappointing, unexpected, or not compatible with those which you imagined, then you’ve got some work to do within yourself before you have any business representing someone else.
7. Watch your Language: no doubt, adept writers and journalists can find other ways to describe us and our relationship, but as a reminder I must ask that you simply avoid racially, sexually, or culturally charged terms. Some folks are in a position to reclaim those words and use them in a way that they find liberating. Those same terms, however, can be used in hurtful, othering, and oppressive ways – even (especially) by folks with good intentions who haven’t done #6. Basically, please don’t use words to talk about us that you would be embarrassed to use when talking to us. Also, when dealing specifically with our marriage, please refrain from using “clever” cognates for the word “relationship” that insinuate our commitment to one another is somehow different (lesser). When in doubt, show our marriage the same respect that you would show your grandparents’ (do Nana and Poppy have a “liaison?”).
8. Do get in touch with me! The only way we will see much-needed changes to the US immigration system is through publicizing its injustices. Like I said, I usually welcome interviews, but I might ask that we collaborate to ensure that your representation is true-to-life and will not cause us future immigration woes. The way I see it, collaborating on such a project is certainly better than working at loggerheads. Moreover, collaboration will help me to trust you – and ultimately to help you, meaning that you will get undoubtedly better information and access! I am therefore happy to play a role – provided that we can come to an understanding that respects and protects everyone.
Ugh. Sorry for the downer post. But this experience was a particularly negative one for me (a trifecta of disappointing, marginalizing, and violating), and I don’t want to repeat it.
To cheer everyone up (that’s a small hint…), I’ll post some news on Leo’s visa situation on Sunday!
Isn’t the anticipation just killing you?!
