Renunciation

Squid in the air, still tied to something 

“Do you have a plan if things go sideways in Taiwan?” 

One of my oldest friends asks us this as he zips us to the BART station from his home in central Oakland. A pair of committed northeasterners settled permanently in Taipei, we’re properly visiting the West Coast for the first time as part of a trip for my brother-in-law’s wedding. 

It’s not the first time I’ve been asked this, and it will be far from the last. Most people assume we’ll leave if things get sketchy; this friend knows me well enough to know that’s not necessarily the case, and thus asks a more open-ended question. 

It’s hard to put this into words, though. I stumble around an insufficient lexicon, muttering about planning to stay — I’m not much of a fighter but I guess I could grow sweet potatoes — and reassuring him that if we were ever forced to leave, really truly forced, we have options. They're not very good options, but it remains that we have them.

It doesn’t need to be said that many in Taiwan would not. 

I slide sideways into a summary of my thought process over the past few years: you know how there are foreigners willing to fight for Ukraine? Well, Taiwan is my home, I’m willing to fight for it. Besides, if I don’t stand up for what’s right in the place I call home, can I claim to stand for anything at all? Certainly I can’t seriously talk about democracy and human rights if I won’t fight for them where I actually live. 

And yet, do I owe my life to a country that won’t give me a passport? That feels weird, too. 

There’s no end to this spirograph of questions, it just whips you around into some complicated, unending holding pattern. 

He’d asked earlier if we were citizens yet. I said no, we’re permanent residents (“like a green card, though we get privileges, not rights exactly, we can’t vote and its very hard to get approved for a mortgage or even a line of credit”). 

It’s not bad, I clarified. I didn’t want to seem ungrateful. But it still feels off — a Chinese-American whose grandparents were ROC citizens who never set foot in Taiwan and have only a tenuous relationship to Taiwanese history and none to Taiwanese culture is considered a dual national by default. We’ve invested most of our adult lives in Taiwan and are considered more foreign than that. I know, I know, not every country has birthright citizenship. I wouldn’t call it unfair exactly, except you know what? It feels unfair. 

“I actually have considered renouncing,” I say over coffee by Lake Merritt. “We don’t plan to move back, and even if we did, with my diabetes I don’t see how we could. I could not possibly afford my medication without a corporate-type job and I am deeply unsuited to exactly that.” 

The truth is, I can’t renounce. Brendan theoretically could; he was lucky enough to have been born in Canada and has that sweet sweet dual birthright citizenship. 

The reasons are simple: I’m too filial. What if my Dad needs help? My in-laws? Being allowed to visit for set periods but not work would be insufficient. I won’t give up my ability to potentially care for aging relatives; something you’d think the Taiwanese government would understand (but apparently doesn’t). 

What’s more, if China invaded and actually won, renouncers like us — well, me — would have no citizenship at all. I can’t think of much that would be as bad or worse than being a citizen of the PRC, but being stateless is quite undesirable. Even if I wanted to be a PRC citizen (I absolutely don’t), it’s doubtful I’d be allowed to do so. 

I did not say: this confluence of events has altered the course of my life in ways I could not have easily predicted. 

It's difficult to fully explain, so I avoid the discussion with anyone who seems to have overly binary thinking. 

I hadn’t known when I moved to Taiwan that I would want to stay. It certainly had not occurred to me that I’d care enough to consider fighting if China did ever start a war. But more than that, the slender exceptions that have opened for dual nationality have done nothing but throw into sharp focus how weird the whole situation is. 

Sat squarely in the middle of my thought process is this strait gait and narrow path, and how I might get on it. As an educator with an advanced degree who primarily works with Taiwanese teachers and their professional development, you’d think I’d qualify. I don’t. 

Educators not only have to be associate professors and prove some specific contribution to Taiwan, but also get their university to do the required paperwork to recommend them. Some succeed; I’ve heard stories of others who don’t simply because their university doesn’t care to support them. 

For awhile, I thought I’d just get my PhD and pursue that path. Getting accepted to a program wouldn’t be particularly hard — the director of my MEd program all but assured me I’d have a seat if I applied — but funding would be. 

Soon after, I had the opportunity to travel around Taiwan and talk to many university lecturers, professors and second language acquisition specialists. Almost all of them bore ill news: the only people doing anything remotely like what I do at the university level who also have tenure-track positions are actually professors of Linguistics or English Literature. If you have a background specifically in Education — not to mention Applied Foreign Languages — the best you’re likely to do is an annual contract, if not adjunct work. I met two exceptions; they prove the rule.

Forget that neither of those paths offer enough in terms of benefits and remuneration for the work required, or for me to give up my freelance career in which I never have to confront my deep-seated issues with authority. 

Neither of them are sufficient to qualify for dual nationality, so what exactly would be the point of doing a PhD if I want to stay in Taiwan? It wouldn’t get me the job I need to attain dual nationality, which under the current law I will never qualify for. It isn’t necessary for what I do now. I don't really want the jobs it could get me.

So why do it, putting in all that blood, sweat, toil, tears — not to mention money I don’t really have and don’t think I should have to spend? (To me, any PhD worth doing is a PhD someone else pays for.) 

I can’t think of a reason, so I haven’t applied. I likely never will. 

Who knew that deciding on Taiwan as our home would have repercussions not just regarding work and citizenship, but education? 

None of these issues has an endpoint. None of the questions has answers. It’s not quite tragic enough to merit sustained media coverage, not quite common enough to be a society-wide problem. It affects me and a small group of otherwise-privileged, mostly Western immigrants in Taiwan. It’s easy to be dismissive — you’d never have to fight, you’ll never be Taiwanese, you’re just here for your own benefit — and I won’t even say that these are entirely untrue. I wouldn’t have to fight, if I didn’t want to. I’ll never be culturally Taiwanese. As much as I want my being in Taiwan to be something good for Taiwan, living here does benefit me as well. It’s a tad specious to pretend none of it matters because a white lady like me will be alright no matter what, but it’s also not quite wrong. 

Yet wondering whether I’ll ever have access to something people with even less exposure to Taiwanese culture are entitled to, realizing that I can’t imagine a world where I ran away from Taiwan at the moment of her greatest crisis, and knowing that it will still never be enough no matter how impossible renunciation is for me? 

To stay in Taiwan, I've renounced quite a bit. Perhaps nothing tragic; can I really whine about career paths I did not take when I'm more or less happy in the one I've chosen? Who cares that I'll never be an academic simply because a reasonable version of that job, for me, does not exist here? I am salty about renouncing my chances for ever being a full citizen of the country I live in, though I'm not sure I have a right to be. Even though I couldn't really live in the US again, I did choose this. 

Whatever, y'know? All I can do is renounce the whole damn debate. I don't really care about anyone's silly opinion on whether or not I will or should fight in any potential Chinese invasion of Taiwan. It doesn't matter how I should feel, or what makes me one of the "good" immigrants, or whether I'm happy or grateful enough. I feel how I feel, I made the choices I made, I am where I am, and I don't have any answers beyond that.

Do people actually leave the United States because they're angry about politics?

One cold morning in 2004, I walked into work to find my colleagues congratulating each other. We're talking clinking coffee mugs, back pats, louder greetings ("HEY!"). I was crestfallen, but alone. In a financial services office, most employees voted Republican. Of course, the back-patters were the managers, the people with offices; as a twenty-something administrative assistant in a cubicle who took the bus to work and struggled to make rent, I most certainly had not. 

It wasn't just that the much-touted tax cuts hadn't helped me at all, or that the excellent Afghan restaurant in Georgetown closed despite hanging a huge American flag over the door; the new rah-rah-America-stop-the-Muslims ensured few customers. Of course it wasn't just about that one Afghan restaurant; it was a whole culture of bullying and distrustfulness that I could not stomach.

Having lived abroad before and already starting to feel that America being the richest country in the world did not necessarily equate to it being the best. There were other places I might live. Perhaps not China, where I'd recently lived. India didn't seem to have any job openings for me. Taiwan, however, looked intriguing.

I was frustrated with my coworkers but held my tongue. It seemed unprofessional, and besides, the one time I had implied I didn't agree with them my supervisor asked me not to talk about politics at work. 

"But they talk about politics," I pointed out.
"Yes but..."
"But..?"
"I mean, but the office is...most people are...there's no disagreement."
"So, it's okay to talk about politics here if you are a conservative because enough people in power agree with you, but if you are a liberal you shouldn't? That's blatantly unfair. Either it's okay for everyone, or no one. So maybe go talk to them."
"But they're senior managers."
"So?"

She just sighed. It didn't matter. I was on my way out anyway.

Then the election came around and I lost my head all the back-patting. I snarked that I was gonna leave the US and go live somewhere else as soon as I could, because I was done with a country that would re-elect George W. Bush.

A manager laughed at me, and said I probably wouldn't. I wonder if he thought I simply couldn't afford it, or that I was young and naïve but soon I'd see that the US was the greatest country in the world, or something. A few months later, the same guy said "I thought you were planning to leave?"

"Yeah, it takes some time to plan these things." 

He walked away. I guess he didn't know what to say.

So I got a second job, started saving my cash, found a job at some cram school in Taipei, quit my job and left. 

* * * 

This story is true, but contains a massive lie of omission. 

I did indeed snark at a manager. I did leave after the 2004 election, though it took me until 2006 to make it happen. I was broke, after all. Bush-era American culture -- the culture that had helped close my favorite restaurant and "cancelled the Dixie Chicks" -- was one reason for that. But the truth is, I was kind of trolling my coworkers. I was annoyed with them, and if they thought I left only because I didn't like W (and they did), then that suited me just fine.

The whole truth is that I was coming to realize that I'd preferred being abroad, though I wasn't sure why (there was certainly a huge amount of unexamined white privilege in there. I apologize. It was 2004 and I wasn't even 25.) I was figuratively sick of exhaustingly inefficient public transit. I was literally sick from not seeing doctors when I should have about chronic back pain, because even with a good company insurance plan I still couldn't afford the co-pays. Even then, I was sick of people trying to expand rights for guns but reduce them for women, expand savings for the rich but reduce social welfare for those who needed it, and sick of how much the United States tolerated that -- encouraged it, even. I was sick of people pretending centrist (or generously, center-left) Democrats were "on the left" when that's never been true. 

There were also positives, too: I wanted to explore and understand a new culture, try living abroad for longer, practice Mandarin in a country where it's a lingua franca. 

So, do people actually leave the United States because they are angry about politics? 

Sometimes, yes. Or at least, that's one of the reasons more often than I think Americans in general want to accept. 

I had a list of reasons, but politics was definitely on it. I've met people for whom it played an even bigger role. Couldn't afford health care, one expat told me in those early years. It was actually cheaper to pack up my life and move to Taiwan than to pay what they wanted to charge me. Another cited fear of mass shootings, but also fear that the people Americans elect don't do a thing about it. She was sick of the thoughts and prayers. These issues aren't directly about Republicans or Democrats -- except when they are -- but they are indirectly political.

Often, people move for similar reasons to mine: politics is part of it, but a combination of not having any strong feeling about (or actively disliking) the USA, coupled with a desire to learn more about another culture or study a foreign language bring a bit of weight to the desire. Frankly, if someone isn't interested in learning a new language or living in a different culture, they probably won't move -- "politics" or not. 

For others, politics might give a nudge to all the other reasons they were interested in living abroad in the first place. 

Of course, let's not forget that these stories come from people with some mobility: they're native English speakers, they have whatever degree or job prospects they need to move abroad. They have the ability to save enough money to leave, and enough freedom from whatever other constraints might keep people in place to do it. Fundamentally, we're talking about a privileged group. Myself included, despite being broke as a joke when I actually left. 

Regardless, my experience picking up 16 years ago -- in part because of politics -- has me scratching my head at some current social media discourse. 

"What's stopping Americans from picking up and moving to Europe?" one massive Twitter thread asked recently, in the wake of Roe v. Wade.

ok serious question, what keeps the average American (that can afford it) from moving to Europe?

please enlighten me

— Peer Richelsen 🗓🍊 (@peer_rich) June 25, 2022

The answers people gave for not leaving straight-up scrambled my brain. Seriously guys, some of them were bonkers.

Apparently, in the wake of many American women losing not just abortion rights but basic bodily autonomy, some big reasons for staying included "bigger cars", "big lawns", "better coffee" and "monolingualism" (America isn't actually monolingual, but alrighty). All of these, to me, are downsides of America -- yes, even the big lawns, because they create communities that necessitate driving and exclude anyone who won't drive, or can't for whatever reason -- and it only got more bizarre from there. Someone complained about beans on toast being bad. 

First of all, my grad school experience is screaming that beans on toast are not bad, if you add some nasty cheese slices and a squirt of hot sauce. But secondly, I will gladly eat beans on toast in a country where I can get a fucking abortion, Chadston. 

When you live in a place with a variety of food available, you can cook whatever you want in your own kitchen. It's not like you move to the UK and suddenly the Beans On Toast Police come to your house and ask why you are not making the legally required beans on toast. 

The same goes for coffee. Maybe you don't like tiny European coffees. Fine. Buy an American drip coffeemaker, a French press, a goddamn Turkish ibrik. Nobody cares. It's your house. You're not on tour. You aren't restricted to six overpriced cafes near the Eiffel Tower. When you actually live in a place you can make your own coffee any goddamn way you want, but crucially, you do not have to do your own abortion. Which is kind of the point. 

My final shock regarding these threads was how so few people brought up the obvious reason why many don't leave: work and visas. We were lucky that we wanted to live in a country that made it fairly easy to come here, and as teachers, we wanted to do the jobs that were available to us. Mostly, it's quite difficult getting a work or residency visa. It might be easier if you're privileged, but it's not just something you can do. You can't just move to Paris, get any old job and legally work at that job with no issues. Do people assume that you can? Is "I don't like the coffee" too big a barrier but "I literally cannot get a work visa approved" not?

Just as bad, however, were all the people saying it was silly to think about moving, or just dismissing it all with "eh, you won't move and you know it! Don't be childish!"

As someone who did move, I can say that this is also wrong. America isn't some unique paradise in comparison to a world where everyone walks around caked in mud with their thumb up their ass, or heaven forbid, drinks coffee you don't like.

Sixteen years in Taiwan and I do not feel like I've lost anything significant by moving here except for time with my family. People cite "freedom" as a reason to stay, but that's not a uniquely American thing. Taiwan is a free society, too. Or they cite "quality of life", but in this advanced Asian democracy, quality of life seems pretty similar to me, if not somewhat better thanks to the great healthcare. And that's not just me: though Taiwanese do leave (some percentage of any population is going to), my friends generally say they stay because they want to. 

Sure, I don't have a lawn in Taipei (though if I moved to the countryside, I might). But I can afford to see the doctor and even get an abortion if I need one. Taiwan has freedom of speech, freedom of assembly and a free press -- though that doesn't always equate to a high-quality press. Taiwan also has democratic government, good public transportation and offers a reasonably normal life in a reasonably safe country. I can walk down the street as a woman alone at any time of night and not worry about my safety. I've learned a language and built a career and community of good friends. It's not a lonely life. Finding food I like is not difficult; it helps that I enjoy local cuisine, but there are options if I'm feeling international, though that wasn't always the case. 

With the exception of good bagels and voting rights (for me specifically, as I'm not a citizen), I can't think of a single positive thing the US offers that Taiwan does not. There are negatives to life in Taiwan, but I doubt they'd be much different elsewhere.

In other words, the bad things about the USA seem uniquely bad by developed-economy standards. But the good things about it -- and there is some good! -- aren't particularly unique to it. 

There are indeed plenty of reasons to stay. Aside from the obvious barriers to leaving (not enough money, can't get a visa), people may have family obligations, jobs they actually want to keep, or their own personal reasons. Some may not think voting, donating and contacting one's representatives is sufficient activism, and want to stay and fight. I respect that a lot, though honestly I think it's unfair to insist that any woman worried about being affected by an abortion ban who can leave should actually stay and have her rights stripped away as she fights back. It's admirable to stay and fight, but it's wrong to demand of anyone.

I'm sure someone will read this and think, if someone can pick up and move to another country, surely they can afford to get an abortion in another state?

That is true. But with right-wingers talking about finding ways to ban that -- I'm not sure how it would be possible, but that doesn't seem to stop them -- it's honestly unclear if a year from now a woman will be prohibited from crossing state lines if it's suspected she's trying to get reproductive healthcare. If you're worried about being treated like a trussed-up incubator, you may want to get out now.

And yes, I do believe anyone who gets stroppy enough to imply women shouldn't leave even as they're being accorded fewer human rights than corpses in some states probably just hates women. The guys going off about how "oh but the coffee is bad" perhaps don't realize that this question isn't about coffee but basic humanity; they don't have a uterus so it's easy to forget. Those that think anyone who can get pregnant should sit tight and wait to be told to what degree they are considered mere egg sacks -- that leaving is "silly" -- are simply misogynists.

For me, the overturning of Roe v. Wade has tainted my impression of the United States, possibly irrevocably. Now, leaving in part because I didn't like George W. Bush feels almost quaint. How young, how naïve. I could still think of things to like or even love about the US, even as I chose to build a home in Taiwan. 

Now, thinking about the US is like mistaking salt for sugar when making cookie dough. It doesn't matter if the chocolate chips are still fine; the whole thing is ruined. Maybe some of the other ingredients are right, but the wrongness is pervasive and the result is inedible.

If you are thinking of leaving and able to do so, don't let the naysayers get you down. Don't let them convince you that nobody actually leaves for these reasons. People kind of do, and not just to Europe. Some of us have been gone for the better part of two decades, and aren't moving back. 

I don't have a statistical breakdown or a study to show you. I'm not sure anyone has actually researched expat populations to see how many left for political reasons. All I can say is I've met such people. To some degree, perhaps I am one (though again, I'm overstating the degree to which it was politics compared to all the other reasons.)

If you join us abroad, I promise you can make your coffee any way you want. 

And if you're a woman afraid for the security of her basic bodily autonomy and are thinking about moving to Taiwan, feel free to ask me for any advice. 

I'm also curious about foreigners in Taiwan reading this. Did you leave because of "politics"? Why did you leave the countries of your birth?

Does Taiwan already have the English teachers it needs? Yes and no.

As a result of an online petition to allow foreign English teachers to enter Taiwan, some have said that Taiwan already has the teachers it needs -- basically, that there are plenty of locals with high enough English proficiency to teach, as well as immigrants from Southeast Asia who are often not ignored as potential teachers, stuck in lower-wage jobs despite potentially having strong English proficiency.

But…what if, just what if all the English teachers you might want are already here, who just happen not to be white foreigners? https://t.co/qZG2QJOKDG

— 酷兒福爾摩沙人queerformosan (@queerformosan) September 4, 2021

And a comment in response to this article (quick pull quote because eventually Focus Taiwan will archive it): 

The cram schools and the Foreign Teachers Coalition are appealing for inclusion in the categories of foreign nationals who recently received special permission to enter Taiwan, following those of international students, professors, and scholars, coalition member Oliver Ward told CNA Thursday.

I didn't black out the name because it's a public comment and doesn't say anything scandalous or wrong.

It's worth noting that other versions of this story say that most of the teachers who are waiting to enter are qualified teachers, and many have contracts to work in Taiwanese schools. They don't appear to be random foreigners, or at least not all of them are.

There's truth to the negative reactions, however, and ideologically I agree as well. Taiwan already has plenty of teachers who, from a language proficiency perspective, could potentially be English teachers. And yet, they're ignored in favor of hiring mostly white foreigners.

Native speakerism -- the idea, unsupported by research, that a "native speaker" teacher is preferable or better than a non-native speaker -- is a massive problem. First, it's difficult to even define "native speaker" with any sort of specificity or academic rigor. Someone who has been using English since childhood might not be proficient enough in it to teach it, and someone who learned it well after learning their first language(s) might be indistinguishable from a native speaker (including accent, though this is fairly rare, although I know two real life examples). There are so many accents and dialects as well that the mental picture that the term "native speaker" conjures up is, for most people, not in line with reality. 

Most professionals instead use the term "L1 user", but that doesn't change the core problem: when people say "native speaker" they often just mean a white person, or perhaps a white person who also happens to be from an English-speaking country. That's obviously racist, so employers obscure what they really mean. In some cases this racism affects what salary is offered, both to L1 users and non-native speaker teachers who are not white. Not all native speakerists are racists, but the latter use the same excuses of as the former to hide their racism.

If the industry could get over this and end racism and native speakerism in the profession, then yes, it would be easier to find and appropriately pay potential English teachers who are already here. Taiwan doesn't "need" to import a bunch of foreigners at higher pay than locals receive.

When it comes to the 'native speakers' who arrive in Taiwan with little or no experience and no training but still get hired, there's no reason why a suitably English-proficient person who is already in Taiwan -- local or foreign -- couldn't do the job just as well.

There is another aspect to consider, however. The ability to teach a foreign language goes beyond the ability to speak it. Teaching is itself a skill, a professional one. There's a reason why public school teachers need to go through fairly rigorous training before they can work.

The best teachers tend to have a combination of experience and training. If the experience is extremely valuable, and they learned from well-trained colleagues, in some cases these can be one and the same. I'd hesitate to say that's typical, but it is possible. 

If the base assumption is that any old English speaker (L1 user or not) can and should be hired to do these jobs, then I don't agree. From a personal perspective, I came here with experience but without training, and realized pretty quickly that this wasn't good enough. It took a few years to save up the money to get that training, and I improved based on good advice from coworkers before that, but the fact is, I would not hire the version of myself that arrived in Taiwan to teach. I certainly wouldn't hire her to do the job I do now. 

I do think there can be a role and an entry point for untrained and even inexperienced teachers that doesn't involve expensive coursework at the outset, before you've even decided you like the job enough to stay in it. There was an entry point for me, and I wouldn't want to deny that to potentially talented future teachers. However, let's assume that when we say "Taiwan needs teachers", we do mean experienced, trained, qualified teachers.

By that metric, honestly speaking, Taiwan probably does not already have the teachers it needs.

I can't offer much data, but I am a teacher trainer and most of my trainees are local. Fairly frequently, they return to our old Line groups to ask if anyone can refer a qualified candidate to their workplaces. If that's happening often -- and in my experience, it is -- then Taiwan needs more trained teachers. I also deliver CPD (continuing professional development) courses to Taiwanese public school teachers and occasionally university professors.

The employment rate of both seems to be fairly high, though I have to admit the hourly (and even annual) contracts most universities offer are substandard compared to other countries, especially in terms of pay and research opportunities compared to the qualifications required. This is a topic all on its own, though, and usually when we talk about "teachers needed", we mean in schools and buxibans.

If you are a licensed local English teacher looking for a public school job, you are probably not going to be looking for long. And yet schools are still hiring. Therefore, there likely are not enough local teachers, and the better argument to make is that the government should be encouraging more locals to get the training to become teachers (a process which would take years but pay real dividends), rather than saying Taiwan already has them. 

The training locals get to become English teachers is pretty good. It's not perfect, but training never is. However, in my CPD courses I've found them to be enthusiastic, knowledgeable, thoughtful and creative. If you're asking yourself why so many Taiwanese students graduate unable to speak English despite having highly-proficient and well-trained teachers, the answer is simple: the test is the tumor. 

The curriculum and testing requirements are preposterously out of date and extraordinarily onerous, to the point that teachers can't implement modern or cutting-edge pedagogy the way they'd like. The tests don't even really test language proficiency! It's a classic case of negative washback. It's a credit to teachers in Taiwan that they are already aware of this, although they may not have the power to change it (in fact, this is a common complaint I hear from them).

Changing this, too, might inspire more people to become teachers and improve language learning outcomes.

That leaves foreigners. There are plenty of good English speakers already in Taiwan, but not many who are experienced and trained teachers. Again, by that metric, Taiwan does not "already have" the English teachers it needs.

I doubt many foreigners already in Taiwan, whatever their background, are licensed English teachers who are just not working in schools. There may be a few, but almost certainly not enough to meet demand. Most are not going to enter local public school licensing programs, which take years. That leaves the international certification programs such as CELTA, CertTESOL and TYLEC, as well as local programs. These programs take a few months to complete, and can produce teachers with basic classroom competency, though most will need further guidance in their new jobs (that's how they were designed; it's not a curriculum flaw -- almost nobody can learn to be an amazing teacher in a few months). 

The good news is that most of these courses are now available in Taiwan, which wasn't the case when I moved here. I work with the people who got these courses started and am able to deliver sessions on them, so I like to think I play a very small part in making them possible.

One of the reasons I went into that area was because I felt that making teacher training more accessible locally would improve the overall quality of EFL teaching in Taiwan, and provide a route for people often discriminated against in the field to change perceptions about what it means to hire a good language teacher. And no, it's not fair that a local or non-Western foreigner might need to take a course to be seen as competitive against untrained Johnny Beer Money, but not having the courses available won't address that. Bringing more diversity to the profession might be a start.

The bad news is that they're very expensive, and in a time when people already in Taiwan are seeing their hours cut due to the pandemic, they might not be inclined or able to lay out that much money. For non-Western foreigners as well as Taiwanese who might be interested in these courses, the expense is likely an even greater barrier. 

The result is unfortunate: Taiwan has all the potential English teachers it needs already. But no, it doesn't quite have the end product: experienced, trained teachers.

There is an easy local solution if Taiwan needs qualified English teachers now: offer incentives and scholarships to locals and foreigners for professional training, or apprenticeship positions that lead to full-time teaching jobs, which would provide an alternative route to the classroom. Ensure that both locals who would like to teach English and foreigners who don't fit the "native speaker" so-called ideal still have job opportunities by encouraging employers to, well, not be racist and not hide behind "native speakerism" to avoid accountability for their actions. Start this change in public schools, because it's unlikely that buxiban owners will lead the way in making these changes.

And, of course, educate parents about what it really means to have a qualified language teacher for their children: a person with experience and training, who might even offer benefits over a white face -- such as a better ability to clarify grammar and lexis that they themselves had to learn -- and that a white foreigner at the head of a classroom isn't a very good guarantee of learning actually taking place.

Recent immigration reforms in Taiwan are a mixed bag

Stop. 

The cabinet has just approved a new draft amendment that would relax requirements for foreign professionals coming to Taiwan, including those enrolled in postgraduate programs in Taiwan.

As an immigrant myself, it makes sense to be generally in favor of streamlined immigration requirements. But I’m ambivalent about this. 

On their face, the relaxed rules are fine. I don’t see any good reason to make foreigners wait six months for National Health Insurance coverage if they’re committed to being here for at least a year, and it’s smart to encourage talent cultivated by Taiwan — graduate students at Taiwanese universities — to stay here. 

The enhanced tax incentives, immediate NHI coverage and shortened permanent residency eligibility period apply to “foreign special professionals” — that magic, golden class of foreigners who glitter all the more in comparison to everyone else, who is apparently garbage.

I'm not at all sure that these are the issues that would tip a "special" professional towards coming to Taiwan if they had doubts, with the possible exception of the NHI coverage, as health care is likely a major consideration when making such decisions.

I’m also concerned that these changes target the wrong issues and add yet another layer of elitism to already stratified regulations. While the government has moved quickly on “foreign special professionals”, they neither invest in the foreigners who are already here and committed to Taiwan, nor do they address the horrific human rights abuses and poor working conditions endured by foreign blue-collar workers, most of whom come from Southeast Asia.  

The amendment would also relax requirements for foreign teachers coming to teach subject classes at schools for the children of foreign professionals. Frankly, I do think some  requirements for working in Taiwanese schools can reasonably be relaxed — ask me for examples if you care. However, the lack of specificity in the announcement is jarring: what requirements will change, exactly? The students are children of foreign professionals, who all presumably speak English already, how does this do anything to support the Bilingual by 2030 plan? 

A friend of mine has been having trouble in one such “bilingual school for the children of foreign professionals”, dealing with teachers who create unprofessional materials including a “textbook” that consisted of printed-out Wikipedia pages. Such schools need more professional teaching expertise, not less.

The original draft called for graduates of “Top 500” universities to be allowed to work in Taiwan without the requisite 2 years’ related experience or a Master’s degree. However, that clause was dropped.

That’s a shame, as I supported it. Though I have no idea how “top 500” would be determined (most ranking systems are questionable), it would ensure that prospective immigrants won’t feel they need to teach English to come here. I am in favor of any regulatory change that reduces the non-serious people in my field. If they’re better at doing something else and don’t want to be in a classroom, let them, and leave teaching to people who actively choose it — even if they require training and experience, as I once did. 

So, it’s disappointing that the most promising clause in the amendment was dropped. What’s left is...okay. I’m not against it, but I’m not impressed.

As someone who went through the 5-year wait for her APRC, I have no particular desire to force that on newcomers. And yet from my experience, a five-year wait is an entirely reasonable requirement, especially now that it’s easier to change jobs. I suppose it's a positive change for those with graduate degrees from Taiwanese universities, however: student visas don't count towards the permanent residency clock, but Taiwan would be wise to incentivize such people to stay.

I have no opinion on tax incentives, but it sure feels like offering more benefits to the already-privileged. And everyone should have faster access to NHI, not just Special Magic Wizard Foreigners. 

I can’t help but compare this to the very minor recent improvement to working conditions for foreign blue-collar workers. Starting this month, most of these workers are now being provided with work documents in their native languages as well as Mandarin, rather than Mandarin only. 

That’s great, but frankly, I’m shocked that that wasn’t already the case (and embarrassed that I hadn’t realized it wasn’t)! How did take until the Year of Our Good Lord Baby Jesus in Goddamn Heaven Twenty-Twenty-Fucking-One to make this happen? Seriously?! 

It’s disheartening that the government can move so swiftly to accommodate the already-privileged, but can’t seem to get basic human rights sorted out for the vast majority of immigrants to Taiwan.

You can whine all you want about how it’s the Taiwanese government’s prerogative to “attract” certain “talent”, but the cold fact is that Taiwan needs these workers to keep the economy running way more than they need some tech bro. The fishing, the factory work, the elder care — those jobs are at the solar plexus of Taiwanese society, not whatever Craigstopher McJuggerton from Indiana will be doing here. I will freely admit that what they do is more vital to Taiwan than what I do, as well. 

It's not that I think the Splendiferous Glitter Foreigners shouldn't be welcome in Taiwan. Of course, they should -- but it's already pretty easy for them to come here. The people at risk of indentured servitude or outright slavery perhaps have more pressing concerns.

Finally, it annoys me as a long-termer that the government still seems to be unaware that there are foreign professionals who are already here, who are already committed to Taiwan, and what most of us seem to want is a realistic shot at dual nationality. 

At the risk of sounding like a big baby whinerpants, I’ve recently become aware that the path to dual nationality for someone like me is even more narrow than the existing one. For an educator, the requirement is to become an assistant professor. However, for language teaching professionals, there are essentially no such positions. The very few exceptions I’ve met merely prove the rule. Were I to get a PhD, the most I might reasonably hope to achieve in Taiwanese academia is an annually-renewed “lecturer” contract and very little access to research funding. Even that is rare: most new hires are low-paid adjuncts. The language teachers who are professors are generally Literature or Linguistics specialists who’ve been asked to teach language classes. 

So, it doesn’t matter what I do. I’ll never be a “professor” in the sense that the government requires. That job simply doesn’t meaningfully exist in Taiwan in my field. And yet, that is the requirement to apply for dual nationality. I could “publish in major international journals” (most likely without research funding), but I’ve been too busy training the teachers the government says it wants to cultivate!  

All this despite the government saying repeatedly that it wants to elevate the quality of language teaching in Taiwan, and therefore ostensibly wanting people like me as part of Bilingual by 2030. 

I’m not against these new rules. I wouldn’t even call my ambivalence “jealousy” because I’ve managed to carve out a good life here, get my APRC, and cultivate a career I’m passionate about. Hell, I went to two “Top 500” universities (whatever that means). I have NHI and neither need nor want tax incentives. It is a little depressing to see how pointless it would be to get a PhD for career-related reasons, but that’s a personal issue. 

Rather, the ambivalence stems from annoyance: the relaxed regulations aren’t a bad thing, but they don’t do much to the kinds of immigration reform Taiwan actually needs.  

Let's talk about immigration and quadruple standards (again)

An exhibit at the former Japanese Naval Guesthouse in Taipei, now an art gallery, featuring work by Taiwanese artists alongside artifacts from South and Southeast Asia.


I was recently quoted extensively in this Hong Kong Free Press article about the ongoing fight for dual nationality in Taiwan. I think overall the piece is quite good. 

The article covers some important points: even people born here to parents who don't have Chinese or Taiwanese ancestry can't get dual nationality. There is simply no pathway. Until just a few years ago that meant potentially being forced to leave the only country you've ever called home because there was no visa available. Now, that issue's been somewhat addressed by allowing such children to get permanent residency. Other streamlining has occurred, which helps, but still doesn't -- and can't -- address many key issues. 

We can't vote, usually get turned down for anything requiring a credit line, and aren't eligible for any number of benefits that will likely grow more necessary as we age (a lot of senior citizen benefits are not available to us regardless no matter how long we've paid taxes). Our ability to be fully included on the labor insurance pension plan was only recently instated, as well. 

However, there are a few things from my interview that didn't make it in, and I'd like to discuss them here.

It's been pointed out that the piece ignores the Southeast Asian community, and yes, it does. I brought up the issue of foreign blue-collar labor, not because I think I can speak for anyone, but because I was being interviewed. That segues into my first point.

Many people note the "double standard" of Taiwan's nationality laws: most countries either allow everyone or no one to have multiple nationalities. In fact, it's a quadruple standard.

People with the right ancestry can have multiple nationalities without issue. People with so-called "elite" jobs can get dual nationality. People like me can get permanent residency but not dual nationality. And treated worst of all, blue-collar foreign workers (who make up a large percentage of the Southeast Asian immigrant community) have no access to permanent residency, nor do labor and residency laws protect them adequately. 

This is both racist and classist on the part of the Taiwanese government. Although there are explanations for why the piece focused on APRC holders, it would have been good to include a section on the extra barriers that exist for most immigrants to Taiwan, with a related interview. 

My second point is related: it creates a system where your human worth is tied entirely to your job. But, as Preston points out in the article, being a good citizen is about more than what job you do, and it's a bit of a straitjacket to insist that "worthy" people must hold a narrow range of positions: 

“They’re using it as a rewards system....It’s basically a very exclusive club, but there’s more to good citizens than just being an elite member of society."

It stifles the sorts of contributions that may be good for Taiwan, but don't come with a specific title attached. 

It's also a reminder to those of us who have APRCs that consistently advocating for and supporting immigrant communities with less privilege is important. 

The truth is, even if I get a PhD someday, I don't particularly want to be a professor -- the job I would need to qualify. I think my personal contribution is more impactful as a teacher trainer, because I work with local teachers, who can then do what they think is best with their professional development in their context. 

The usual comeback to this is that "the government chose to incentivize the sort of people it wants to immigrate". Okay, but that's still a "you are only worth your job title" attitude, and in any case, the government has also been saying that it wants qualified teachers and teacher trainers for it's EMI/CLIL-based initiative to improve English language proficiency. In other words, I am exactly the sort of person they say they want. Beyond that, while the government may not say they want blue-collar labor, such labor is vital to Taiwan and they know it.

Another rejoinder I often hear is that Taiwan is a "monoculture", it's not a place where anyone from anywhere could potentially come to call themselves Taiwanese. I will leave aside the "being Taiwanese" aspect, because even if I get dual nationality someday, I don't intend to call myself that. I do think the term still has cultural connotations that just don't apply to me. 

There are two things wrong with the "monoculture" argument. First, the original citizenship law was written in China in the 1920s. It was never intended to apply to just Taiwan, and certainly wasn't tailored to or even appropriate for any concept of Taiwan as a nation. Now, the vast majority of Taiwanese either identify solely as Taiwanese, or prioritize Taiwanese identity. There is a distinct sense of a unique Taiwanese culture, heritage and history, separate from China. As Kerim noted: 

As a researcher of Taiwanese indigenous culture and languages, Friedman said there was also an ideological reason for allowing more foreigners to hold dual citizenship. “I would very much like to see Taiwan move away from the ethno-nationalistic view that citizenship in Taiwan is associated with being Chinese… I would like to see more diverse kinds of Taiwanese people.”

“I think Taiwan’s future as an independent country also depends on de-linking Taiwanese identity from ‘Chinese-ness’… So as a personal act, becoming a Taiwanese citizen myself is a step in that direction,” he said.

If descendants of the Chinese diaspora who have never even visited Taiwan, whose ancestors may have never visited either (or only stopped here briefly after leaving China in the 1940s) are eligible for "ROC" nationality -- something I don't begrudge, by the way -- then it's not about that distinct Taiwanese culture. It's about race, and specifically being 'from China'. But Taiwan doesn't identify as part of China! 

So, is being Taiwanese something separate from being Chinese, or not? If not, then why is the ancestral requirement paramount? If so, how does that square with what polls say about Taiwanese identity? 

Creating a pathway to nationality for who have built a life in Taiwan despite their ancestry can create a foundation for a nation that exists as a civic partnership rather than an ethno-state and cement a national identity distinct from China. It helps Taiwan move away from difficult, tired and frankly outdated arguments -- ethnic nationalism is so twentieth century! (Even with places like Tibet and East Turkestan, I don't think they deserve independence because they are not Han Chinese. I think they deserve it because the Chinese government treats them like crap.) 

In short, a pathway not based on bloodline contributes to a national ethos that makes sense and is consistent with the sort of country Taiwan says it wants to be. Some may fear an erosion of national identity, but out of over half a million foreign residents, only a fraction intend to stay permanently, and it's likely not all of those would go for dual nationality. In other words, those who want this pathway are already here, and for any newcomers the process would likely take around a decade: the number I hear mentioned most often is 5 years post-APRC, which itself takes at least five years. It wouldn't likely create a flood of newcomers, and I don't think Taiwanese identity is so weak that people who've stayed a decade could possibly threaten it. 

The second problem with the 'monoculture' argument is that historically it just isn't true. Taiwan has always been an international crossroads, and has seen waves of settlers, colonizers and immigrants, who generally weren't welcome at first (and some of whom did great damage -- and yes, I'm looking at powerful members of the KMT diaspora). Everyone with ancestral ties to China -- that is, most of the population -- is descended from settlers. More recently, intercultural families, often with a mother from Southeast Asia, are common in Taiwan. I've been too busy with work to find good data on this, but here's a 2010 article that put the number at one in ten Taiwanese children with a foreign parent, down from one in seven in the early 2000s. 

What happens to the children and grandchildren of these waves of immigrants? Honestly...they come to identify as Taiwanese. They adapt to local culture, and local culture adapts to them. 

I don't ever expect to be considered 'the same' as a local, and I doubt I could fully assimilate if I wanted to. I can't deny that my race and the privilege that comes with it as well as the culture I was born into create differences that I doubt can be fully bridged. However, this is my home. Period. 

There's one final point worth making: the 'social consensus' argument. As non-voters, we can't force the government to do anything, nor can we force the public to agree with this vision of Taiwan that includes us. 

But do we have to? Most Taiwanese who ask me if I have citizenship are shocked to learn it's not available to me without an unconscionable sacrifice (the ability to return to care for aging family in the US should I need to). I doubt most are even aware that the quadruple standard exists. How can society be against something it doesn't even realize is an issue?

I do worry that one of the issues is a willingness to consider people like me for dual nationality, but not the people who are hurt the most by the quadruple standard -- the Southeast Asian foreign worker community. That will have to be addressed in the coming years.

The government could do something about all of this. They could end these pointless calculations of 'worthiness' based on one's job. All I can say is that I hope, in my lifetime, that they do. 

How to help Hong Kong refugees without calling them "refugees"

Since the imposition of the National Security Law on Hong Kong and renewed protests in opposition to it, there has been a great deal of discussion regarding whether Taiwan is obligated to help Hong Kong (honestly - no), whether helping Hong Kong is the right thing to do (yes), and what exactly Taiwan can do to help.

Despite some Taiwanese saying that they need to prioritize the well-being of their own country rather than helping refugees - a false comparison, as any nation can do both - I do believe most want to help Hong Kongers fleeing their increasingly authoritarian city. How to do that, however, is not clear.

Measures are expected to be approved on Thursday (article in Cantonese, but there's a decent English rundown here) to help political asylum seekers. According to Radio Free Asia, this would include vetting both by Hong Kong and Taiwanese human rights lawyers at different stages of the process, help with housing, including centralized housing options, and financial and employment aid upon arrival. These measures are based on Article 18 of the Act Governing Relations Between Hong Kong and Macau, and would amend Article 25 of that same act, which concerns transportation of goods and people between Taiwan and Hong Kong/Macau.
There are many questions that still need to be addressed, however. Until very recently, the Taiwanese government was saying that Hong Kongers coming to Taiwan should not be considered "refugees" because the term was too 'emotionally sensitive' - I can't find a link right now but will source one soon.  Of course, the real reason is that considering Hong Kong's status vis-a-vis ROC and PRC laws, specifically designating Hong Kongers fleeing to Taiwan as "refugees" is very murky legal territory. As early as 10 days ago, the Tsai government was saying no new laws were needed, even though refugees and advocates say that current mechanisms are clearly insufficient. 

If the laws won't change, whatever happens on Thursday is not likely to open more pathways for Hong Kongers than the ones which already exist: work or study, which visas that not everyone can get; investment, which is really only for the wealthy; or throwing oneself into an ill-defined humanitarian legal system that is just being set up. 

Honestly, there is more we could do. Simply making it easier for Hong Kongers to get visas to come to Taiwan would be a start, as would prioritizing the opening of a 'travel bubble' of places that have handled coronavirus well, which would include Hong Kong. Having a wide array of visas to choose from would ensure more Hong Kongers might find a visa that applies to them.

Here are some ideas for visa classes that could be opened to Hong Kongers, if they don't exist already. Some have already suggested this, but the talent they seem keen on attracting is still far too narrow. Many of these are already available to people from some countries, though I'm not clear what the entry requirements are or if they are available to Hong Kongers. Changing the requirements or applicability of these visas wouldn't require new laws - existing ones could simply be amended.

Employment-seeking visas: give Hong Kongers who apply and pass a security check a visa with a generous time limit, during which they may seek employment, with few (if any) restrictions on what that employment is. Make it possible to convert this visa into a resident visa with a work permit in Taiwan. These could be broadly open to just about anyone. In addition, barriers to what sort of jobs and salary offers qualify one for employment should be relaxed - for everyone, not just Hong Kongers.

Entrepreneur visas: for Hong Kongers who have a bit more cash and could conceivably open their own small business. Make the requirements for this low - even a street stall or coffee kiosk would be sufficient.

Study and academic visas: offer a wider range of student visas, including a visa simply for signing up for classes at a language center. 

Artist visas: this class currently exists, but is extremely hard to get (I don't know anyone who has successfully obtained one). Make it easier to get, so that all you need to do is prove you've had some commercial success with your art - whether that's fine arts, getting DJ gigs, getting paid to write or design or sell your handmade goods...whatever.

Reduce requirements for work visas: end the salary and some of the educational requirements for obtaining a work visa for those who can get hired, so that the current requirements aren't overly onerous. As it is, most front-line protesters - that is, people most in need of a way out as they will absolutely be targeted - are young and probably don't meet the current requirements.

Certainly, financial, housing and legal assistance are also important.  By centering these, Taiwan is clearly expecting an influx of people arriving and sticking around without any legal status, and that's an important thing to consider. However, alongside these, more legal means to come to Taiwan need to be put in place. 

Just a few years ago, the media was focused on discussing "brain drain", especially from Taiwan to China.  This is just one of seemingly hundreds of articles dissecting the topic. If that really was an issue, and Taiwan has a talent and labor shortage, it would be beneficial to let Hong Kongers who want to start a new life in a free country do so. 

Obviously, anyone applying for these would still have to undergo some sort of security check. We can assume that the CCP would attempt to funnel in bad actors through a more open visa system in Hong Kong, especially in these times. However, once they do, an influx of talented Hong Kongers who share Taiwanese values such as respect for human rights and democracy can only be good for the country. 

Thoughts on the "Expanded Overstayers Voluntary Departure" Scheme

I cannot imagine a poster with more Taiwanese-style design choices

I'm still forming a full opinion on this, so my position is subject to change.

At the moment, Taiwan has a program running where visa overstayers can voluntarily turn themselves in until 30 June 2020. They'll pay a minimal fine (NT$2000) and face no detention or entry ban.

Please be aware: anyone caught by authorities will be subject to full penalties which may include a ban on re-entering Taiwan. That includes being caught at any time, including the "voluntary departure" period.

There is no promise that the immigration authorities will not conduct checks during this period, and if you are caught you will be deported with full penalty. 
In other words, this program isn't aimed at helping you stay - it's aimed at convincing you to leave by making that option relatively painless. The government is not saying "you can overstay your visa", they're saying "you can't overstay your visa, but if you do, we'll make it easy for you to get out".

Therefore, "taking advantage" of the amnesty program is a huge risk. Do this at your peril: I can't in good conscience advise it. If you are an overstayer, you may get caught, and you may be deported.

It's quite clear that if you turn yourself in, at that time you will be expected to leave, so this is not a "you can stay" program. It's a "if you leave on your own before we catch you, we won't punish you" program. Bear that in mind.

On one hand, this is more than most countries do for people whose visas are running out, or who may be in the country illegally. It feels like a very 'Taiwanese bureaucracy' way of saying "in practice, you can theoretically stay until 30 June, which is our intention, but we have to pretend to be tough on immigration for appearances' sake".

It's not perfect and it doesn't reduce anxiety, but we really must recognize that the vast majority of governments would not do this. Taiwan did. That counts for something. 





It also gives them leeway to decide to extend the program for as long as the CCP Virus rages. So, there is humanity in it. It offers options to some of the people who otherwise might have none.

Of course, there is no guarantee that the CCP Virus will have abated by then (do not believe the data coming out of China) and no guarantee that the program will be extended. There's no guarantee that a cheap, regional visa run will be possible at that time.

On the other hand, there are a lot of people it doesn't help. People trying to get paperwork through that would allow them to stay legally, but won't be processed by the time their visas run out and might have to wait out the CCP Virus in a far more dangerous country where they might not have a clear place to stay aren't offered much here. People who do regional visa runs (like the Honduran man in my last piece who wants to marry his Taiwanese partner, but can't) can use this program as an unofficial extension, but face uncertainty after that date. Illegal workers, especially those who are scraping by in Taiwan, might not have the resources to leave if they do turn themselves in.

What bothers me about it, I suppose, is that philosophically it's still in the "go home!" camp, and a lot of people facing visa issues in fact consider Taiwan home. As a supporter of open borders, I'd prefer a "you are here, we'll shelter in place together" approach. Instead, it's a kinder form of trying to kick people out.

Allowing all landing visa holders to convert to a visitor visa would be the real game-changer, as those visas would start running out at about the same time, but would grant temporary legal status rather than giving people anxiety for choosing to overstay. It looks a lot less "strict" but it would be a more progressive approach.

And yet, at a time like this, can I really expect a perfect response? 

It's hard to say I like this approach, but I have to recognize that it's a slight improvement in the situation with some practical benefits.

However, it really doesn't solve the issues faced by those who are affected by the travel ban as their legal stays in Taiwan start to expire.

Thoughts?

In Limbo: foreigners hoping to build lives in Taiwan face uncertainty with the new travel ban

The Taiwan CECC (Central Epidemic Command Center) announcement on Wednesday that all non-resident foreigners would be barred from entering the country sent shockwaves across Taiwan’s international community due to the CCP Virus. Many who had hoped to enter Taiwan, or who are here legally on landing or tourist visas and had hoped to stay, were caught without many good options. 

On a positive note, the government’s explicit clarification that foreign residents would be allowed to enter was a relief. While it’s unlikely we would have been banned, policymakers have a tendency to forget that the foreign community exists, leaving us confused and anxious whenever a new policy doesn’t clearly state whether we are included or not. That they thought of this signals a welcome change.

However, many foreigners in Taiwan who do not have legal residency are now finding themselves difficult situations. While regular tourists can be expected to leave, not everyone fits that category. There are those who are here legally as job seekers, engaged to marry a resident, digital nomads, and others who wanted to fly in to be with family but now can't. 

I asked a few of these people if they'd mind sharing their stories, and they've agreed. From employment, to marriage, to pregnancy to keeping families together, there are so many ways that the new policy has impacted foreigners, in ways the government likely never considered.

Here are some of their stories. 

(More stories are coming in, so I'll update as that happens.)


Trying to marry as the window closes

D. is a resident in Taiwan, working in the tech sector. A Hungarian national born in Serbia, he is engaged to an American woman who has been staying here on landing visas. He can stay, but she can't, once her visa is up. It's highly unlikely that "we're planning to marry" would trigger an exemption, but of course it would be safer and better if they weathered this pandemic in place, together.

They've looked into speeding up the wedding, but the thorny issue of his nationality makes obtaining the necessary certificate of single status difficult for him to obtain, at a time when de facto embassies here are dealing with bigger matters. The TECO office in Hungary also serves Serbians (there is no office in Serbia for political reasons), but he has no contacts in Hungary who can send him the needed certificate. It is easier for his partner, who should be able to go to AIT if they're not completely overwhelmed.

They are currently planning to try to get the required document for him from the Hungarian embassy in Taiwan so they can register to marry before her visa expires, but it is still unclear if that will be possible.


A high-risk pregnancy and delivering alone

M. is single and carrying a high-risk pregnancy which is due in 4 weeks. Her mother was scheduled to fly to Taiwan for the delivery, was willing to do the mandatory quarantine and even moved her flight up. She was going to get here this Saturday - which was not soon enough before the travel ban took effect.

Due to coronavirus concerns, only one family member - and yes, they must be a family member - is allowed in the delivery room. M. has no family in Taiwan, so she will deliver alone. She also lives alone, and can't afford a post-partum hotel, so while she'd been looking forward to having her mother there during her recovery period, now she'll be living alone for that time.

She doesn't know when her mother will be able to get here. 


Family reunification

S. and S. are permanent residents in Taipei, but their daughter A. lives in London with her boyfriend, whom she met while attending international school in Taipei. They've been together 6 years. The daughter and her boyfriend want to return to Taiwan to stay with S. and S. (the boyfriend's parents currently live in China, and he is American by nationality). Because the option to get permanent residency for the children of permanent residents was only recently made available, A. missed that window and has no resident visa.

S. says that A. and her boyfriend attempted to get visas, giving the reason that they want to be with family (official or otherwise) but were turned away.

"I don’t know when I’ll see her. I wish they had ARCs. It doesn’t seem fair, because this is our home now - we both have APRCs. This is the only home she has, besides her apartment in London," S. says, and she clearly wants her daughter with her.


Newly-Hired Limbo

For those hoping to teach in Taiwan, a background check from their home country is necessary for their first job. For subsequent jobs, if they haven't been out of Taiwan for too long, a Taiwanese background check is sufficient. Of course, the home-country checks take forever because Western governments just can't get these things right. The Taiwanese check is cheap and takes a day or two.

C., an American, had had a home background check done for a previous job, but that was awhile ago, so it's no longer valid. He's now back in Taiwan and had been job hunting on a landing visa (which is not really encouraged, but is quite common). He has a job offer with all other paperwork complete, but the employer needs a background check from the US, as this will be his first stint here on a work permit. Background checks can take a very long time indeed, though there is an option to expedite. An expedited check under the best circumstances takes a week. With the West in the throes of a pandemic, who knows how long it will be?

C's landing visa runs out on March 29th. Work permit paperwork takes 5 days. So, he has until this Monday - that's two working days - to figure this out and get his paperwork submitted.  That won't be possible, clearly. Normally one would just take a weekender to a nearby country to restart the landing visa and pick up the work permit after returning, but with the borders closed to all non-residents, that's no longer an option for C. - which was announced just a few days before his hard deadline to get the paperwork through, or leave.

C. isn't sure what he's going to do, or if going to the immigration office, hat in hand, with a letter from his new employer and copies of his work permit application materials, will be enough to have an exception granted (this is easier for Canadians and British people but not as easy for Americans). He can try, but his future is uncertain.


Love, Interrupted

W. is from the Honduras, and his partner, D., is Taiwanese. Although same-sex marriage is legal in Taiwan, Taiwanese can only marry foreigners if it is legal in their partner's home country as well (due to reasons I truly do not comprehend). Honduras, of course, does not recognize marriage equality, so W. and D. cannot marry in Taiwan. This also means that D., a Taiwanese citizen, cannot access a right that should be guaranteed to him by the government.

For now, W. is a "visa runner", but would prefer not to be. He just wants to marry D. and stay in Taiwan, but due to a quirk of the same-sex marriage laws, that's impossible. He's in a position he never wanted to be in.

That's not grounds for an extension or exception as, on paper, W. has no 'reason' to stay as there is no permanent situation available to him.

His visa runs out in 15 days, and he will have to go back to Honduras. After that, he doesn't know when he'll be allowed back into Taiwan, or be reunited with D. to continue their lives together.


Trying to Contribute to Taiwan

A. had been working with an American non-profit and an existing organization in Taiwan to self-fund his teaching of English and Art courses to Indigenous children. When the CCP Virus broke out, both sides backed out, and then the borders closed after he arrived. A. now has 81 days to find a way to legally stay in Taiwan.


The Uncertainty, and the Happy Ending

H. moved to Taiwan with her husband and had been planning to do a visa run to Macau to get a proper visitor visa and get her spousal visa paperwork in order. Now, if she leaves for Macau she won't be allowed back in, and while she may qualify for a special exemption, she's not sure at all.

G., who is British, and his Taiwanese wife had been living in Europe. His job ended, they had no desire to live in the UK especially after Brexit, and have ties in Taiwan, so it made sense to come back now. G. came in on a landing visa, and had planned to get another one after Christmas, giving them time to get the spousal visa paperwork through.

Then coronavirus hit, and their options began to narrow, as flights kept getting canceled to potential destinations. Travel clearly wasn't going to work. At that point, about a week ago, they went to the immigration office to ask for an extension, given the circumstances. Then the travel ban hit, and without an answer they were obviously quite nervous. If his extension were rejected, he'd have to go to the UK to wait out the pandemic, where he hadn't lived in some time.

Fortunately for G., he got word today that his extension was approved and he will be able to stay in Taiwan.

All I can say is, don’t assume an extension won't be granted - come up with a good reason and ask. Make sure you have enough time so that they can consider your case. Bring evidence. Get back-up. Fight for your right to not die. 

A lot of people are going to get screwed by this travel ban, but I hope that despite its tough talk, the government will be lenient with granting exceptions to those who have extenuating circumstances. These foreigners are already here, so they are not a risk. They want to build a life here and have the means to do so.

The CECC surely did not mean to tear apart families when it formed this policy; they were trying to do what was best for the country. However, we must ask that they consider the impact this has on foreigners in Taiwan, and re-evaluate their visa extension and exception rules. 

Good luck to everyone.