Not at home

First thing, sorry about this, but this post isn’t about writing. It’s not about the election either, not directly in any case. It’s about something that has been bothering me, and with the election in sight, it has started to bother me even more.

The thing is, I’m an immigrant. Well, technically I’m not really the kind of immigrant people are “concerned” about. In fact, I’m exactly the kind of immigrant Nigel Farage’s wife is, so I should be safe. Actually, I’m even from the same country. But there it stops. The problem is, you see, I don’t actually have a country. Or a home.

I was born in one country, but never really lived there as an adult. Instead I spent 20 years in another country. Now, it doesn’t really matter which one, or why. What does matter, is that in that country I felt at home. Perhaps it was because I spoke the language better than I speak English. But somehow I doubt it. Somehow I have a feeling that it has more to do with attitudes than anything else. Because here in the UK, I am treated as a foreigner first and foremost. The first thing people ask, well, after the mandatory polite introductions, is “so you’re German then?” Upon which I launch into the usual explanation that yes, that is where I was born, but I actually never lived there as an adult and… at which point I’ve lost them. Because they don’t care. They’ve made the point that I am foreign, and that’s enough for now.

Don’t get me wrong, they are all great people and, I suppose, from their point of view, they’re acting perfectly reasonably. It’s me, not them, obviously. It’s just that, with the current political climate here, being from somewhere else is primarily a problem. Perfectly reasonable people who would never swear or say anything impolite about someone in front of them in the bus queue, can make comments about Europe or immigration which they obviously don’t realise are deeply offensive to someone like me.

And comments like that really bother me. They bother me partly because they are mostly untrue, but they also bother me for another reason. Because they don’t get opposed. People seem to think “it’s just one of them kippers not worth arguing with”. But if they aren’t opposed they will take hold and grow like weeds. Already have the established parties taken aboard parts of the anti-immigrant retorics, and it will only get worse unless people stand up and talk about immigrants as people. Because immigrants are people, not numbers.

And people do things like moving to a different country, for all sorts of reasons. Some, like me, do it for love, some do it to find a better job, some try to escape from war or poverty. Others just want to spend their retirement in a warmer country.

And everybody in this country who is compassionate enough to spend a considerable amount of their income on red noses, teddy bear picknicks or whatever the charity event of the week may be, is obviously compassionate enough about other people. As long as they aren’t from Eastern Europe, then.

And, I suppose, that’s what makes me so sad, and perhaps that’s why I don’t really feel at home. Because if not everybody is welcome, why would I be? And if I am, why don’t more people stand up for our right to be here, value our contributions and make us feel at home?