Citizen, Community

Alien of extraordinary ability

Last week I became an American citizen!

It was the culmination of almost 10 years of climbing the VISA ladder (hello J1, P1, O1, and PR), spending more money than I ever want to count on lawyers and immigration processing fees, and a truly awe-inspiring day for this kid from a wee country at the bottom of the world.

I get to vote now, I get to run for office, I get to pay taxes in the US till the day I die no matter where I live, and I don’t have to worry about expiring anymore.

The only truly disappointing aspect of my new citizenship is losing my O1 VISA status as an “alien of extraordinary ability”. That was a pretty killer tagline to have.

Firstly, yes - I do still have my New Zealand citizenship. The gist of it is that the United States government considers me now only an American, while the New Zealand government accepts that I have both.

Secondly - even if I didn’t, I’d still be a Kiwi.

Culture isn’t something you can swear away and my New Zealand-ness is a heritage both deeply ingrained in the very fabric of who I am, and something I’m proud of.

Having lived in the US for almost 10 years now, and outside of New Zealand for the better part of 20, I also recognize that I’m neither a “normal” kiwi nor an American.

The most accurate cultural definition for me now would probably be, Amerikiwi.

Traveling to new places on vacation is a gift that broadens your cultural understanding and helps you become a more empathetic and understanding human. It’s also very hard to truly understand your own culture if you don’t ever leave it and experience somewhere different.

Living within a foreign culture, however, is total immersion and something that changes you irrevocably. You meet people you could never otherwise have known, experience things you can’t on vacation and, if you do it right, learn some profound things about yourself.

It also affords you the chance to find your community. The people who want to live the way you want to live and care deeply about the things you care deeply about.

I moved to Nashville in 2014 because Cy and I wanted to see if we could become full-time touring musicians - something that just wasn’t possible back home.

But we also moved to Nashville because we wanted to find our people.

And we did.

Living in Nashville was the first time in my life I could say “I’m a touring bass player” and not get blank stares of confusion from people.

It was the first place I could bring a bank statement as proof of income to sign up for a gym membership, highlight my very inconsistent and varied tour payments, and have them say “oh so you’re a touring musician: APPROVED”.

My first mortgage broker knew the band I was touring with and was not only understanding of my financial situation but actually LOVED that I did that for a job.

Most significantly, in Nashville, I found a large community of musicians who were willing to give everything up, pack up their lives, leave their families, and move to a new place to pursue their music dreams.

I also found people who’d been doing it for long enough that the reflected bright lights of the music industry were starting to fade in their eyes and they were beginning to ask - what’s the greater point here? Is the dream I had 10 years ago still the right goal?

In Nashville, I found people like me.

I didn’t leave New Zealand because it was a bad place to live. It’s a wonderful place to live and plenty of people I meet don’t fully understand why I would leave at all. It’s not a war-torn country and I wasn’t fleeing persecution or hardship.

So why choose to become a citizen of a different country?

I want to live in the US simply because that’s where I found my community. And citizenship wouldn’t mean much to me without it.

It’s where I found the bass players I turn to for gear advice, the independent artists I confer with when I’m planning an album or tour, the side players I consult when I’m struggling with a new job negotiation, the people I fight alongside to push the industry towards equality, the non-musician friends who keep me sane and grounded outside the music bubble, and - most importantly - the amazing man I get to spend my life with.

The best piece of advice I can give anyone who wants to pursue a career in music is, to find your community. Whether it’s online, in your hometown, or 10,000 miles away in Music City USA.

100% of the gigs, tours, and sessions I’ve been hired for are by friends or from a friend’s recommendation.

100% of the people I’ve hired have come through my relationships, and I almost NEVER hire someone new without asking around my friends to see who knows them and what they’re like to work with.

The music industry - like most industries - is built on relationships.

Make yours count, find your community, and your life and career will flourish. I’m incredibly grateful for the way mine has, and very happy to call the US home.