Certificate of Citizenship

When I went to the Legal Affairs Bureau to start the process of naturalising, I was given a long list of documents to gather. I decided to start by gathering the UK-issued documents, as I foresaw the most problems with those.

I seem to have been correct.

One of the documents required was a certificate of citizenship, which I was told I could get from the UK Embassy. So, I emailed them to ask, and got a reply saying that the embassy didn’t handle renunciation of citizenship, and I should get in touch with the Home Office. I emailed back saying yes, I know that, but I want to know about a certificate of citizenship.

That got no reply.

Fortunately, I was contacted by someone who had done the process recently, and could tell me what the embassy had issued in their case. Armed with that information, I emailed the embassy again, and this time I got a useful reply.

The embassy used to issue official letters confirming citizenship, but no longer does so. They stopped last year, under instructions from the Foreign Office. The embassy said that such matters were now handled by the Home Office. However, the Home Office only issues certificates if you naturalised. If you were born a UK citizen, there is nothing to issue.

So, this morning I called my case worker at the Legal Affairs Bureau.

“They’ve stopped issuing them? Oh, well, in that case, don’t worry about it for now. If it doesn’t exist, you can’t get it. I’ll ask my superiors what we should do, but it will have to go to the Justice Minister, so don’t delay your application for this. Have you collected everything else?”

“Er, not quite yet…”

“Well, once you have, call again.”

It didn’t even take five minutes. I may be asked to produce something at a later stage, but it’s possible I won’t be. I do, after all, have to submit proof that I have renounced my UK citizenship before they complete the process, and that will prove that I had it earlier.

One thing that struck me was that the problem was resolved really easily because I could just pick up the phone and call the office. If I hadn’t been able to do that, this could have caused significant stress.

Of the five pieces of documentation I need from the UK, I currently have one. Three of the others should be in process. The last one is being a bit problematic, but I suspect that this is a bad time of year to try to hurry things up. Maybe I’ll wait a couple of weeks.

First Naturalisation Interview

Yesterday, I went to keep my appointment at the Legal Affairs Bureau in Kawasaki for my first interview about naturalising.

The interview took about an hour, and mostly consisted of explanations of the documents I need to prepare in order to submit my application. The whole thing was conducted in Japanese, so if your Japanese isn’t that good, I can imagine it taking a bit longer than an hour. Indeed, my case worker said that sometimes they split the document explanations over two sessions: first the documents that people need to collect from various official sources, then the documents that they need to write. I suspect that one reason for splitting it is the length of time the explanations take.

People who naturalise in Japan are expected to have reasonable competence in Japanese, although this is not formalised. However, about five minutes into the interview I was told that I didn’t need to take any tests for that, because it was obvious that my Japanese was good enough. This means that the standard can’t be that high; there are limits to how much you can tell in five minutes. (Actually, somewhat later in the interview, he asked me how long I’d been in Japan, and commented that my Japanese was good.)

In addition to the slightly wooly Japanese requirement, there are six formal requirements for naturalising by yourself. One is that you are an adult (over 20, in Japan), and mentally competent to make the decision. That one is not going to be a problem. Another is that you are not, and have not been, since the current constitution of Japan came into force, a member of an organisation dedicated to the violent overthrow of the constitution of Japan, or of a constitutionally established Japanese government, or that advocates doing so. The time limit means that Donald Keene was able to naturalise, despite being a member of the US Armed Forces during WWII, and thus being a member of a group that successfully used violence to overthrow the Japanese government. This is another condition that won’t be a problem for me. Next, you must either be stateless, or give up your current citizenship. While I would prefer not to give up UK citizenship, that’s not an option, so this is also a condition I can meet. The procedure also appears to be quite simple, if a little pricey.

Next, we get on to the more substantial requirements. I need to have had an address in Japan for three continuous years. (It would be five if my wife were not Japanese.) To prove this, I will need to submit photocopies of my passport, and make a list of all the times I have left the country in the last three years. I meet the requirement, so, again, no problem, but paperwork.

Unsurprisingly, the government also requires that you be able to support yourself, or that someone in your family be able to support you. While I can, obviously, I need quite a bit of paperwork to support it: tax returns from my business, and half a dozen certificates from various tax offices, as well as official copies of title deeds to land, and copies of my bank pass books to show how much money I have. I mentioned that I have a lot of bank accounts, because organisations keep specifying where I need to open an account to pay them or be paid, and my case worker said that I could just list the main ones. The point is to prove that you have enough money, so leaving off accounts with a small amount in is not a problem. This is not the tax office. In addition, I need to give an outline of the work I do, and, at a later stage, I may be asked to put them in touch with one or two of my long-standing students, so that they can check that the business really exists. Again, that won’t be a problem.

Finally, you need to be of good character. I’m not quite sure how you certify this; a criminal record in Japan is a serious problem, if it goes beyond a couple of speeding tickets, but I think the proof that you pay your taxes and pension contributions is also an important part of this. I haven’t, however, been asked to get a criminal record check from the UK, which is a relief, because I believe that’s quite a hassle, and slow. They do require a detailed CV, giving all your addresses in Japan and the main ones from before you arrived, and your work and educational history. I get the impression that, if you’ve spent all your time working in borderline-legal establishments since you arrived in Japan, you might have trouble with this condition. If you are married, they also want to talk to your spouse, to make sure, at the extreme, that you haven’t married into the yakuza, but also because having a good and stable family environment is strong evidence of good character.

In addition to certifying that you meet the conditions, you also need to provide the information they need to create your family register. For this, they need to know which child of your parents you are. So, you need to provide your birth certificate, your siblings’ birth certificates, and your parents’ marriage certificate (if they were married). Fortunately, if you and your siblings are all over thirty, this is easy in the UK. You can order them online. Anyone’s, if you know their date of birth. (Yes, this means that anyone accepting UK birth certificates as proof of identity is insane. The passport office does not; it uses them to prove citizenship of someone whose identity is proved by other means.) I also need to provide proof that my parents are divorced, and that’s a bit more complicated; there’s no web interface. Fortunately, my father is incredibly organised, so I know the court and case number for the divorce, which makes it really cheap. Finally, I need a signed statement from my parents that there are no other children around. That will take a bit of coordinating, but isn’t a problem. As my case worker pointed out, if you are from Brazil and have twelve siblings, it can be quite a bit of effort to get all the documents you need. (Fortunately, step siblings from your parents’ remarriages do not count; otherwise I would be collecting about a dozen birth certificates as well.) I imagine it also gets harder if your parents are dead. I suspect that they have procedures for that, however: they can cope if your parents are no longer talking to one another or to you. I also need Japanese documentation; my wife’s family register, and our residents’ register. It is OK to get the single sheet version with us all on, which will save some money, as I’ll only need to pay for one.

One document that they have asked for that is looking a bit problematic is a certificate of UK citizenship (not my passport). They said that I can get this from the embassy, but the embassy did not immediately know what I was talking about, which is not promising. If it’s not a standard thing, there is likely to be hassle involved. We will see.

I also need some family snapshots. The only problem there is finding ones with all of us on; I think there are enough around.

Once I have collected all the information and documents, I need to fill in a bunch of forms. On most of them, I am just copying information across from the documents. I need to provide maps to my home and place of business, because they will come to visit while assessing my application. I was explicitly told that pasting in something from Google or equivalent is acceptable, which saves a lot of work. (And that they have their own maps, so they will actually look it up.) I guess the main purpose of the map is to ensure that they are going to the right place, and there are no mistakes in your address. Talking of addresses, Japanese addresses have to be given in the full, formal form, rather than in the abbreviated form normally used. I’m not sure I know those for all my previous addresses; I’ll have to check.

The main forms that are not just copies are my statement of reason for wanting to naturalise and the actual application form. The statement of why I want to naturalise has to be written by me, by hand, in Japanese. I imagine that this is quite tough for some people. Apart from the risk of it being almost completely illegible, I don’t think I’ll have any trouble, however. The application form should include the name that I will take after naturalisation. At the moment, I’m planning to take a kanji version of David Chart, but as Mayuki reacted to the idea of a kanji surname with horror, there may be some negotiation required there.

Almost everything needs two copies, an original and a copy, but for things like my passport they just take copies. The case worker verifies that the copies are accurate, and then stamps them.

All the copies I submit need to be on A4, and everything that is not in Japanese needs a Japanese translation. Fortunately, it is no problem if I do the translations myself. That was another thing I was a bit worried about; as the case worker said, there are translation services, but they are expensive.

My impression so far is much the same as my impression of Japanese immigration. You have to provide documentation, but they are not looking to make your life difficult. Certainly, the first meeting left me with the impression that I will probably be accepted. According to the case worker, it normally takes between six months and a year from the date of application for a decision, and historically somewhere around 98% of applicants are successful.

I will actually apply after the case worker has confirmed that all my documents are in order. Since, in order to apply, I need my tax return, and various certificates of tax payment, for the previous year, I don’t think I’ll be able to apply before mid-February, when I will get this year’s tax return. (I need it stamped to say I submitted it, obviously.) I can’t see that I will be able to gather all the documents I need before the end of this year, so last year’s return, which I do have, will be too old. So, that’s my goal: I am hoping to actually apply towards the end of February. Here’s hoping that the document collection goes smoothly.

Applying to Naturalise

Today, I started the process of applying to naturalise as a Japanese citizen.

Well, to be strictly accurate I called the local Legal Affairs Bureau to make an appointment to start the process of applying to naturalise as a Japanese citizen. There’s a good site about the process in general at Turning Japanese, and my personal experience suggests that the first step on their list — phone the office to make an appointment — is accurate.

I was asked quite a lot of questions on the phone, presumably to make sure that the first interview goes as smoothly as possible.

First, I was asked where I live. This is important, because each office has responsibility for a certain area, and you can only go to the office that handles your area. Fortunately, I had called the right office, so the conversation could continue for a bit longer.

The next question was about my current citizenship, my place of birth, and my parents’ citizenship. I guess that this is because the process is a bit different depending on your current citizenship, and almost certainly significantly more complex if you have multiple citizenships already. To the best of my knowledge, things are only different on the Japanese side if you have Korean nationality but are a Special Permanent Resident, but I believe that the procedure for renouncing your other citizenship differs quite a bit depending on which country it is, and that has an impact on the application process. Obviously, if you have two citizenships, that makes things even more complex.

Then they asked how old I was, and when I arrived in Japan. Then they wanted to know whether I had ever overstayed my visa. I haven’t, which is a good job, because that’s pretty close to an automatic disqualification, as I understand it. As I’ve said before, the Japanese immigration system seems to be relatively tolerant and flexible on a lot of things, but not on overstaying your visa. Once we had established that, they asked me what my first visa status was, and how it had changed after that, and then when I obtained permanent residence. Permanent residence is not a necessary condition for applying for Japanese citizenship, but I don’t suppose it hurts.

Since I’ve been on a spousal visa, the next questions were about my family: whether I was still married to a Japanese person, whether I had ever been married before, whether I had children, and whether we were living as a nuclear family. I think it was at this point that they asked whether I had any criminal record.

Finally, there were questions about my job and whether Yuriko was working. I told them I was a self-employed English teacher.

“Ah, so you run an English Conversation School.”

“Something like that…”

I suspect they’ll ask for contact information for students at some point later in the process, to make sure I’m really working, but one student has already said he’s willing to do that sort of thing, so it won’t be a problem. This question is because you are required to show an ability to support yourself in Japan.

Then I was put on hold for a few seconds, and told that the next open appointment slot was in early December. It was a time I could make without much trouble, so I accepted it.

At this point, they asked for my name and contact phone number.

Finally, I was told what to take to the first meeting. I need my Residence Card, a copy of Yuriko’s family record if we have one around, and all my passports. I’m going to have to see whether I can find the old ones. I’m not sure I have all of them any more.

At the first meeting, I will apparently get a long list of the documents I need to gather, which, it seems, typically takes weeks, if not months.

White Without Privilege

This morning, I went to the jinja near my office to pay my respects to the kami. There happened to be a Japanese woman paying her respects at the same time, and as I stepped back to leave, she turned towards me and murmured (in Japanese) “Wonderful!”.

I assume that she was referring to the way I had followed the correct etiquette. It is, after all, extremely unlikely that she was referring to my appearance. On the other hand, would she have felt the need to say anything had I not appeared white? I rather doubt it.

That doubt is the defining experience of not having white privilege.

“White Privilege” is a term used to describe the unearned entitlement of white people. It seems to have been coined by Peggy McIntosh in a paper entitled “White Privilege and Male Privilege” in 1988, and an excerpt from that paper, called “White Privilege: Unpacking the Invisible Knapsack” is widely available online. This idea has recently become popular in the phrase “check your privilege”.

White people in the UK clearly have white privilege; white people in Japan do not. First, I want to defend the second half of that assertion. Then I want to discuss some of the implications I have drawn from my personal experience of having white privilege, and then not having it.

McIntosh’s article gives a convenient list of 50 privileges that come with being white. Many of them are not available to white people in Japan. For example, the first one is “I can if I wish arrange to be in the company of people of my race most of the time.”, which is impossible for white people here. Similarly, number 6 is “I can turn on the television or open to the front page of the paper and see people of my race widely represented.” Er, no. Or 21: “I am never asked to speak for all the people of my racial group.” I’ve been explicitly asked to do that; it is part of the job description of the Kawasaki City Representative Assembly for Foreign Residents. Or 38: “I can think over many options, social, political, imaginative or professional, without asking whether a person of my race would be accepted or allowed to do what I want to do.” No. And, of course, number 50: “I will feel welcomed and “normal” in the usual walks of public life, institutional and social.” Welcome, possibly. Normal, definitely not.

More generally, “white privilege” is often described as the privilege of having your race not matter. People do not see your race, they just see a person. That is emphatically not the case in Japan; I am a white person first, and whatever else I may be after people have got to know me a bit.

Unless everyone describing “white privilege” online has the concept completely wrong (and they don’t), I lost my white privilege when I came to Japan.

What lessons do I draw from this experience?

First, it is very hard to notice white privilege if you have it, because there is nothing to notice. That is the point. Your race just doesn’t come up.

Second, all white people in the USA have white privilege. It doesn’t matter how poor you are, or how much you suffer discrimination in other ways, your white skin still means that you have white privilege.

Consider President Obama. He clearly has vastly more privilege than the overwhelming majority of white US residents. He is the president. But they have white privilege and he doesn’t. No-one asked whether people were opposed to Dubya because of his race; people do ask that about Obama. (It is worth noting that, if I became prime minister of Japan, people would wonder about the influence of my race. See also point 38, above.) “White privilege” may not have been the best name for the issue, because the connotations of “privilege” are a bit more positive than what it actually gets you.

Third, however, white privilege really is a benefit. It is wearing and stressful to stand out all the time, to constantly be wondering whether people are judging you on your race, to constantly have to wonder whether your race will cause a problem.

That is even true when you do not really face any racism. I don’t think that there is a significant amount of racism directed against white people in Japan. I’ve encountered almost no personal racism, and there are too few white people for systemic racism to be anything more than an unintended side effect of other policies. Nevertheless, the lack of “yellow privilege” is a problem.

There are two points arising from this.

First, I think the loss of white privilege is what makes some white residents of Japan think that there is a lot of racism directed against white people here. It’s uncomfortable, and it involves things that are called racism back home in the USA.

Second, I don’t think it is racism even in the USA. It is entirely understandable that people of colour would think that it was, because it is impossible, in their experience, to separate it from the racism that they do experience. However, the issues are separable, and white people in Japan get the loss of white privilege without the racism. I think the people who see this as racism are mistaken, albeit for understandable reasons.

That has a couple of practical consequences.

Me and my family, all in kimonos, at a jinja.

And if I really want to stand out…

I think that members of minorities need to suck this up and deal with it. If you are a visible minority, you will stand out, you won’t find members of your race around all the time, and people will take actions and ask questions based on your race. That isn’t racist. It’s just a fact of your situation. If you can’t cope with it, move somewhere where you are not a visible minority. If you decide that moving is harder than dealing with it, that is an important discovery. Thinking of it as racism is a mistake, because it just increases your hostility to the society you live in, for no good reason.

What’s more, I don’t think it can be changed. I am never going to fade into the background into Japan. It doesn’t matter how accepting of white people the Japanese are, or how much they treat me just like a Japanese person. I will always look different, and thus be memorable, and inspire questions and comments that would not be inspired by someone who looked “normal”.

The other side of the coin is that it is stressful, and it is pleasant to deal with people who don’t seem to take your race to be a defining issue, and don’t say anything to draw attention to it.

So, if you’re a white American, you’re quite right that it isn’t racist to ask someone where they came from, or how they got into needlepoint, or gaming, or whatever. On the other hand, if one of the reasons you are interested is because you don’t see many non-white people in that context, it is considerate to not ask, at least not at first. If you’ve been sharing a hobby with someone for a while, it’s natural to swap stories of how you got into it. It’s not a natural question the first time you meet, for someone you’d expect to be in the hobby. (It is notable that the only white Shinto priest in Japan says that he got into Shinto because he thought the shoes were cool. To me, that sounds like the response of someone who has been asked that question too many times.)

It’s important to remember the difference in perspective. There are very few white people with a deep interest in and knowledge of Shinto. A Shinto priest could easily go his entire life without meeting one, so of course I’m interesting, and priests I meet tend to be curious about why I’m involved in Shinto. On the other hand, I am always a white person with a deep interest in and knowledge of Shinto when I meet a Shinto priest, so I get it almost every time. It’s like making a joke about someone’s name — even if it is funny, they have heard it lots of times already. (Unless they only changed their name a few minutes earlier and have been in your company ever since, so you know you’re the first person to do it.)

Let’s summarise.

  • White privilege is a real thing, and not having it is a genuine source of stress and discomfort.
  • White people do not necessarily have white privilege; it depends on their society.
  • If some white people have white privilege in a particular society, they all do.
  • The discomfort resulting from not having white privilege is not the result of racism.
  • Nevertheless, a lot of groups do suffer both racism and the lack of white privilege.
  • White people in Japan do not have white privilege, but neither do they suffer from racism.
  • It is not racist to do the things that cause stress and discomfort to people without white privilege.
  • It is, however, considerate to avoid doing them.

Creative Commons Licence
White Without Privilege (excluding the photograph) by David Chart is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License. I have, by request, reformatted the essay as a PDF file, containing only the CC licensed material. The Creative Commons License allows you to copy and distribute the essay for any purpose, as long as you do not alter it. That means that you are clearly allowed to distribute copies to students in a university setting, which is what I was asked for.

Television Appearance Details

The page for my television appearance is online at last. It has some details about the programme, so feel free to take a look if you are interested.

The programme is half an hour long, and will be broadcast six times over the course of 24 hours on July 16th GMT. The times are on the programme’s page, and people in the UK should not forget to adjust for summer time; the 08:30 showing will actually start at 09:30.

So, how can you see it? This page gives instructions for seeing it on television. It does rely on you having an appropriate cable or satellite service, but the quality will be best if you can see it on an actual television. (Alas, a larger screen will be able to do nothing to mitigate the fact that I am in it.)

If that isn’t an option, you can also watch it online, on the NHK World homepage. There are also iOS and Android apps that allow you to watch it on appropriate devices.

Let me know if you have any questions about how to watch it.

“Right Wing”

In mid-December, a new right wing government was elected in Japan. Some people have even described it as “far right”. So, now it’s in office, what has it done?

The first concrete policy announcement was a ¥20 trillion (about $200 billion) spending package to boost the economy, with an emphasis on public works, such as reconstructing Tohoku, improving the earthquake resistance of schools, and testing and repairing ageing infrastructure.

The second concrete policy announcement was a rise in the top rate of income tax from 40% to 45%, and in the top rate of inheritance tax from 50% to 55%, with the explicit goal of reducing income inequality in society.

Just like the UK Conservatives or US Republicans, then. Right? Really?


I see that today’s earthquake has also made the international news. We’re all fine. We felt it, and it was long, but it wasn’t that strong here. Much smaller than last year’s. NHK are still broadcasting tsunami warnings for Tohoku, though.

Residence Card

Today I went to the immigration office to exchange my Certificate of Alien Registration for a Residence Card. The system for foreigners resident in Japan changed in July, and everyone needs to change to a Residence Card. They don’t need to do it immediately, but it’s not entirely clear when they should. If you have a limited-term status of residence, it is clear; you will get the Residence Card when you renew or change your status of residence. For permanent residents, however, the deadline is July 8th 2015, or possibly when your Certificate of Alien Registration expires, if that is earlier. The secretariat of the Representative Assembly was told the first, and one of the representatives the second. The secretariat are trying to get an authoritative answer, but in the meantime my Certificate of Alien Registration was getting rather close to expiring, so I decided to get it changed now.

This was remarkably little trouble. You can download the application form, and it’s extremely short and simple; basically just your name, date of birth, sex, address, nationality, and Certificate of Alien Registration number. The form is in English and Japanese, just like all the other immigration forms. You have to attach an ID photo in a standard size and format, and take the form, along with your CAR and passport, to the local immigration office. This is the only possibly bothersome part of the process, as you have to go to the office in person. We happen to live quite close to the office, so it takes me less than an hour door to door, but if you lived on the Ogasawara Islands you would have to get a boat for about 24 hours each way. On the bright side, if you have permanent residence, the Residence Card is valid for seven years, so you don’t have to do it very often.

I was in the office for about half an hour, which included reissuing a revised card because the first version didn’t display my address in exactly the same way as the CAR. I’ve had problems with that in the past; some places are very picky. That means, of course, that some of the picky places have the CAR version, so I want a piece of official ID with the same address on it. The whole process was extremely efficient, and there is no fee.

This is typical of my experiences with Japanese immigration. If you are in the country legally, they seem to be efficient and even helpful. (When I moved during my application for permanent residence, they phoned to check and sent me the form to report my change of address before I’d got round to them on my list of places to notify.) The various procedures also seem to be significantly cheaper than those in other countries. (Free, for example.) Japan might have fairly strict standards for who they will let in, but the immigration office gives the impression that they actually want the people who do meet the standards in the country. Actually, I’ve got that impression from just about everyone.

If you’re a permanent resident of Japan and haven’t changed your card yet, now might be a good time, but the year end rush will start soon. My experience suggests that going at a quiet time will ensure a very quick visit to the office, so I guess that means avoiding year end, the beginning of the academic year in March/April, and the other student visa period in September/October. However, now that re-entry permits are unnecessary, year end and the summer might be quieter than they used to be.

I certainly do not recommend waiting until July 2015. I suspect the offices will be really, really busy then.

Hallowe’en Tree

A Hallowe'en Tree. Like a Christmas Tree, only darker and with more pumpkins.I don’t know. It’s only the middle of September, and the shopping centres already have their Hallowe’en Trees up.

Hang on a minute…

This is the first one I’ve seen in Japan, but for all I know they’re really common.

In other news, I continue to be really busy, which is why there are still very few blog entries from me.

Published in Japanese

Well, it’s been a while since I wrote anything here. I’m not dead; I’m just busy at work, and I’ve managed to sustain daily posts to my Japanese blog, so this one has been a bit (OK, a lot) neglected. I wouldn’t put any money on this post being the start of a trend, either.

The point of this post is to brag.

There is a magazine for English teachers in Japan called 英語教育, which means “English Education”. It has run for years, and apparently can be found in virtually every school in the country. Thanks to an introduction from one of my students, I was asked to write a short article for it, and the article was published in the September issue. It introduces my favourite teaching materials, and I talked about the Guardian Weekly’s Learning English supplement, and the book that the Japan Institute of Logic has coming out from Kenkyusha (a Japanese publisher) later this year. I will be paid a proper rate for this article. (I may in fact have been paid already; I haven’t checked the relevant bank account for a few days.)

The thing that makes this not just another professional publication is the fact that I wrote the article in Japanese. It has been edited, and I need a lot more editing in Japanese than I do in English, but it has not been rewritten or translated. This is my first professional publication in Japanese.

Fortunately, I don’t have to worry about finding my next goal in improving my Japanese. I still need far too much editing.