Italian Citizenship, Getting Yours! Personal Stories / Italian Citizenship for Americans Posted by Admin on Dec 05, 2004 - 09:31 AM Getting yor Grandfather's Citizenship Back... A couple of years ago I was talking to a guy in a bar and somehow we got on to a conversation about Italy. Somewhere in that conversation he mentioned that he had Italian citizenship, but couldn't speak any Italian. How could this be? Easy, he had requested his cititzenship based on his grandsfather because he thought it would be cool to have an Italian passport? Was it really that easy? Italian citizenship just for the asking? Well, not exactly, but pretty close, if your gandparents were once Italian citizens, and you meet some basic condiitions. Soon I began some research into the details, and while some significant paperwork was involved, and after a handful of screwups on my part, I am now holding MY Italian birth cirtificate in my hands. Pretty cool indeed, and citizenship for my three children came with the deal! Going home, all the way home… Imagine it is early in the 1900s and you are an immigrant having recently arrived at Ellis Island with the sum total of your life tucked neatly into a small suitcase. After a grueling process of interviews and physical exams, you are catalogued and finally granted entry into America. Now, fast-forward ahead six or seven years. After having struggled to find work, learn a second language, and provide for your family, you are now settled in your new country. If you are a typical immigrant from that era, you are ready and eager to apply for US citizenship. My grandfather Nicola, like most Italians who slogged through Ellis Island was looking forward to becoming an American citizen. But emotionally, this was no small decision. US immigration law required complete renouncement of all political ties to Italy, so this was often a traumatic moment. Because he was required to renounce the Italian King, my grandfather always felt he had somehow betrayed his homeland during his naturalization process. Renouncing something as basic as your citizenship cannot be taken lightly. The bonds of citizenship have always connected people on many levels and, surprisingly, the formal process of declaring citizenship has existed for many thousands of years. Interestingly, Rome was the only ancient city to grant citizenship to freed slaves. Romans understood that citizenship was a fundamental right and highly valued by their people. And certainly, American citizenship is coveted by millions of immigrants seeking a better life. Even now, generations later, families of immigrants are still proud of their Italian American heritage. What is little known is that it is also possible to re-claim your family’s Italian citizenship. Along with Ireland, Italy allows dual citizenship. Also, Italy bases citizenship rights on your family tree, not where you were born, and because the United States also has no restrictions on dual citizenship, the process is quite straightforward. If you are descended from at least one Italian citizen, you indeed may qualify. For most children of immigrant families, it was our grandparents who first came to the US. It will be the timing of their naturalization process that will determine if you are entitled to Italian citizenship. In most cases, Italian Americans who qualify can reclaim their ancestor’s citizenship within three or four months, although the Italian Consulate can be meticulous about details. The process for pursuing Italian citizenship is a bit challenging, and some of the documents can be difficult to locate, but the rules are fairly straightforward. Considering Italy’s reputation for bureaucracy, the paperwork is actually well within reason. The basics Americans with Italian grandparents must meet certain requirements in order to obtain their Italian citizenship, but the primary question of when your grandparents were naturalized is the most critical. Back then, naturalization required all applicants to renounce his or her original citizenship. But, if your parents were born before your grandparents were naturalized, your parents might find it surprising that they have been Italian citizens their entire life. Those same citizenship rights extend to you. Getting started. Around the turn of the 19th century, it generally took about six years for an immigrant to become a naturalized American. If your parents were born within in those first five or six years when your ancestor arrived in the US, you have a good chance of meeting Italian citizenship requirements. Your quest for Italian citizenship begins with a search for your grandparents’ naturalization records. In Pittsburgh, naturalization records are located at the old Federal Courthouse near the current Federal Building. If your grandparents were living in a different federal district when they were naturalized, their records will be in that region. You will need to root though a manual card catalogue organized by last name in order to locate the immigrant’s official date of naturalization. If your parent’s birth certificate indicates they were born before your grandparent’s naturalization date, you have met the most important test. You only need one grandparent to meet this requirement; so don’t give up until you check each of your Italian grandparents. While at the federal courthouse, remember to ask for the Naturalization Records Request Form. You will need to apply to the Federal District that covers that city, and request a copy of the full immigration record. The Philadelphia Federal District covers Pennsylvania, so my request went there. US Immigration keeps pretty good records, and the more you know about your grandparents the easier it is for immigration to find their file. You should already have the date of their naturalization, so if you have their birth date, spouse’s name, names of children, etc, the immigration folks will do the rest of the digging. It only took a few weeks to receive copies of my grandfather’s original naturalization records. To learn that he arrived in the US on a ship from Rotterdam and to see his signature of 80 years ago, gave me pause. This precious piece of family history cost little more that 10 dollars. If you are successful up to this point, the real paper chase is about to begin, and it starts with the ORGINAL Italian birth certificates of your grandparents. Assuming they are recorded somewhere in a tiny Italian village, it can be a frustrating yet most rewarding part of your quest. If you haven’t visited the town where your grandparents were born, you owe it to yourself and your children to travel there. What better excuse to make a trip to Italy, and there is never a bad time to visit the country famous for its warm hospitality. While you should be thinking seriously about making that trip to Italy, you also need to get started on some of the other paperwork. Some documents are harder than others to locate, but my experience is that the records people who work for the various county, state and federal governments are happy to help. Remember to be gracious when you approach these civil servants, because you will be apologizing a lot for not knowing more about your family tree. For me, my first major panic happened when I realized that I needed to know when and where my grandparents were married. While most people would be a bit fuzzy on the details of their grandparent’s marriage ceremony, I wasn’t even sure which COUNTRY they were married in! Thanks to a cousin in Abruzzo, I already had my grandfather’s original birth certificate, so finding this marriage license presented the most difficult task for me. But where to start? I surveyed my aunts and uncles, and from those conversations I was able to narrow the field down to a few counties in western Pennsylvania. Fortunately, my grandparents met and were married in the US; you might not be so lucky. In Pennsylvania, marriage records are housed in county courthouses. Be prepared for lots of microfilm scanning, and bring a magnifying glass. It is important that you are certain of given names and their correct spelling, because your grandparent’s adopted American names here in the US may not be on their marriage license. I was pretty lucky here too; my courthouse search only took a couple hours. I carefully placed a copy of the license, signed and affixed with the Beaver County seal, neatly into a well-worn envelope that now held my family tree, pictures and letters from the old country and anything else I had found about my family. I developed a genuine affection for that envelope as it gradually filled with precious bits and pieces of my ancestry. I added official birth certificates for my parents, birth and marriage documents for me and my wife, and finally my children’s birth certificates. Marriage and death certificates for my parents rounded out the package. If I would have misplaced or lost that envelope, I would have been crushed. I was anxious about its whereabouts at all times. With my complete set of documents, I was ready for my trip to the Italian Consulate in Philadelphia – or so I thought. What they meant to say was… The official Web site of the Italian Consulate provides an application and guide for the citizenship process, and I thought I had read it carefully. However, as I should have remembered from college, when you are reading detailed and complicated material, you can’t skip over the parts you don’t understand and still get an “A” on the exam. As such, I failed my first test that day at the consulate in Philadelphia. My broken Italian only made things worse. NEVER greet an Italian with “Buon Giorno” unless you can actually speak Italian! I thought I was prepared, but I wasn’t even close. First of all, none of my documents had the Pennsylvania Secretary of State’s official verification, or “Apostil.” But as I learned, it was a good thing I hadn’t yet spent the time and money traveling to Harrisburg for the Secretary’s seals. Nearly every document I proudly presented had something wrong. My mistakes were small, but this isn’t horseshoes, and you get no points for being close. My problems began with the official birth certificates from Pennsylvania. Computer generated birth records in Pennsylvania contain only the county of birth, while Italy requires the city of birth on all certificates. I made a second request to the Pennsylvania Vital Records Archive, which sent me five newly typed birth certificates -- for my three children, my parents and me. With these “Italianized” birth certificates added to my envelope, I thought I was now ready to seek the Secretary of State’s gold seal. Wrong again. As is turns out, the Secretary of State accepts only official signatories. So, if you want your vital records to be valid as international documents, be sure the official records registrar signs them. Not knowing this, a deputy had signed the copy of my grandfather’s marriage certificate, which was rejected by state. To avoid making my mistake, call ahead to make sure the head honcho is in the courthouse the day you visit. Back to Philadelphia While my first visit to the consulate was primarily a failure due to my incomplete documents, I had been admonished for not being more organized as well. I paid a large price that day as I was repeatedly scolded in blistering Italian for wasting La Senora’s time. Not this trip. A binder replaced my coveted envelope. I had filed all documents in clear folders with colorful tabs and organized them with an index. I was certain I would be rewarded for my diligence and attention to detail. Wrong. Wrong. Wrong. While I had paid more attention to the “Italian small print,” I had failed to notice that one of my sons had recently turned 18. No longer a child, he would require extra paperwork, including registration for mandatory military service. Not to worry: Italy has eliminated this military requirement for children born after 1985, and older children need only be concerned if they plan to establish residency in Italy before turning 27. Regardless, I now needed to schedule another trip to Philadelphia on a day when my son would be off from school. The Italian Consulate is only open in the morning, so some cross state travel finesse would be required. Back to the Consulate! Somehow, between my son’s class schedule at Penn State and my work schedule, we found a free day and booked an early flight to Philly allowing enough time before the consulate closed at noon. Alas, there was still time for one more oversight on my part. It was a total surprise to me, but the Consulate required our US passports to process the application. As I was contemplating when there would be another alignment of the planets to get my son and me to Philly again, La Senora took mercy on us; we would be allowed to fax copies of our passports when we got home. As we left the building, a weird feeling passed over me. Adding to a distinct fear of the unknown, I began to question what I had done! Our non-notification notification. As the months passed, I called the consulate from time to time to check on the application status. Bad move. I was not making any friends at the consulate with my regular phone calls, so I decided to patiently wait for my official notification, if it ever came. Maybe they would reject me? Maybe my grandfather was a spy for Mussolini and we were all now under investigation? There was no shortage of these kinds of strange thoughts, until finally the day a letter arrived from the consulate. I was appropriately excited until I noticed that the letter was addressed to my oldest son. Opening his letter written in Italian, I nervously grabbed my pocket dictionary. I could make out some of the words, and it was clear that the Italian military was writing to my son. Did I miss something? Were my son’s four years of college to be sandwiched around a year in the Italian Army? Not quite. The letter was indeed concerning Christopher’s military service. It was his official “Dispensa” letter notifying him that he would need to serve his country should he “return” to Italy before he was 27. He was now considered an Italian living abroad, and was entitled to forgo his military service until he returned. And so this was how we came to know we had been granted our Italian citizenship. The consulate does not send “Congratulation!” notices, or even “Welcome!” postcards. There really isn’t any fanfare, because as it turns out, we were always Italian citizens. We only needed to clear up the paperwork. Just about 80 years after my grandfather had renounced his allegiance to the country of his birth, we had indeed gone home again. This article is from Tanto Abruzzo!   http://www.tantoabruzzo.com/ The URL for this story is:   http://www.tantoabruzzo.com/modules.php?op=modload&name=News&file=article&sid=1