Over the course of the past few years, many issues have been circulating in the public sphere. One of them—arguably one of the most important—is the issue of citizenship. With the election of Donald J. Trump to the office of the President of the United States, this issue has become more than just a topic of conversation and an abstract concern to some Americans. With President Trump in office, the issue of citizenship has become startlingly pervasive and, for many, life-threatening.

Since his election, President Trump and his supporters have called for the removal of millions of individuals from the United States, individuals who are labeled “illegal”. President Trump and his supporters have also advocated for and, on at least two occasions, attempted to ban individuals from seeking refugee status in the United States—as of today (December 5, 2017) a ban has been successfully implemented for five countries. The Trump administration has pulled the concept of citizenship fully into the spotlight.

One could easily talk about the flaws with President Trumps’ views from both a conservative and liberal perspective, and one could easily discuss the impact said views have on others, but I wish to discuss something different. I wish to discuss what it means to be a citizen in the age of Trump and what it means to be a global citizen in the world at large.

Wake Forest is home to a new program called Global Village. This theme house, which aims to turn Wake Forest students into involved citizens with concerns about the world at large, has afforded me the opportunity to engage with a plethora of individuals from across many different backgrounds.

My roommate is from Ethiopia, one of my sweet mates is from Rwanda, one of my close friends is originally from Brazil, lives in London, and goes to University here, and my best friend is an Undocumented citizen from Mexico. These individuals represent a minute portion of the different backgrounds represented by the global village and an even smaller percentage of the individuals represented on campus and in the United States as a whole.

Together, myself and the other members of global village have explored and discussed what it means to be a citizen of the United States and abroad. We have explored citizenship through the lenses of gender, sexuality, nationality, and more, but one thing that continues to come into the conversation is how to define citizenship. Initially, this might seem like a silly question—citizens are people who belong to a society right?

I’m an American citizen because I live in the United States, pay my taxes, go to school, contribute to the economy, and much more—but if that is the case, wouldn’t the individuals we, as a country, have labeled “illegal immigrants,” the individuals whose right to exist in America is being questioned, be considered citizens? Wouldn’t DACA (Differed Action for Childhood Arrivals) recipients be considered citizens?

They have jobs. They go to school. They pay taxes. They live in America. Aren’t they citizens? And more importantly, should possession of a piece of paper—something we call documentation—determine an individual’s eligibility to live their lives in the place of their choosing? For me, the answer to this question is an emphatic no, but for many individuals, the answer to that question is not so clear.

For many individuals, the fact that there is a “legal” process for entering a country and obtaining citizenship means that those who do so via other means should be ejected and or punished. While I can understand this point of view, this ultimately ignores the entire concept of privilege and how that plays into the immigration process. It ignores that naturalization costs—at a minimum—$725 (according to U.S. Immigration.com). It ignores that just the application to register for permanent resident status for people under 14 years old is $750. It ignores all the other potential costs of immigrating—for a full list of potential costs, look here.

It ignores that many individuals who immigrate to the United States do so under the strain of negative conditions in their countries of origin. It ignores that even if a single individual could pay $725 to start the legal immigration process, there is no guarantee that said individual could do that multiple times for each of their family members. Ultimately, obtaining citizenship status is difficult on a good day and we haven’t even discussed the fact that we are ultimately asking individuals to pay to have the chance to exist in the United States.

But I digress. I have spent the past paragraphs talking about U.S documentation and citizenship, but what about being a global citizen? How do we do that? Are there papers that we have to pay for?

Short answer? No.

There are not any papers to pay for global citizenship. In order to be a global citizen, one must become aware of problems that affect more than just you and those like you. In order to become a global citizen, one must move out of the private sphere (where conversations between family members, friends and like minded individuals take place) and into the public sphere (the arena of ideas in which problems and opinions are discussed, and solutions are posited and enacted) once they are aware of said issues. In order to be a global citizen, one must do more than just be aware of an issue, one must actively work to address those issues. Global citizens make moves for others.

Being a global citizen can look like writing an article on an issue and publishing it online to spark conversation. Being a global citizen can look like collecting clothes for a program which aims to impact the lives of rape victims—people who exist all over the world. Being a global citizen can look like educating yourself about something you were unfamiliar with and spreading that knowledge to debase cultural, sexual, and gender based stereotypes. Being a global citizen means making an effort—a real effort to help people other than yourself.

What it takes to be a global citizen differs significantly from what it takes to be a U.S. citizen. Being a true global citizen is about more than just money. It is about action and about intention. Because being a global citizen is different from being a U.S. citizen, it is important to realize that only one person can designate you a global citizen. You. This also means that no one can revoke your global citizenship but you. This, however, is incredibly easy to do. By deciding to ignore an issue, you can revoke your own global citizenship. By labeling another individual’s experiences unimportant, you can revoke your own global citizenship. By refusing to participate in a class that seeks to explore new ideas, cultures, and concepts, you can revoke your own global citizenship. Global citizenship is bought, not with money, but with actions. Global citizenship—and citizenship in general—is not achievable in any single instance, it is a process.

When framed like this, the prospect of being a global citizen can seem daunting. That is indisputable, but we can do so much on a day to day basis to make strides towards being global citizens. We can listen to opinions that differ from our own. We can read both liberal and conservative literature. We can learn—not take classes in but actually learn—another language. We can take a second to welcome an international student to campus instead of walking by as if they are an inconvenience because they do not know where The Pit, or Wait Chapel, or The Office of Academic Advising is. We can show up—both physically and mentally—to events such as Diwali and Eid, or some of the hundreds of discussions and programing put on by both students and faculty alike. Ultimately, we can all be global citizens. And we can do it without paying a dime—something people who move from one country to another do not have the luxury of saying.

So, the next time a discussion on citizenship takes place, or the next time you open your mouth to decry an idea that you don’t agree with, think to yourself: “Am I being a global citizen right now?” If the answer to that question is no… Do something about it.