I Am An Immigrant
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I am an immigrant. I am a first generation immigrant. I wasn’t born here. I remember from such an early age, I held onto my British passport with such ferocity if anyone dared question whether I belong here or not, I could retort “I’ve always had a British passport”.
Shouts of “go back where you came from!” Or “P***” left me angry or confused; they’re right I thought, I did come from there, I am Pakistani, why is it such an offence to be me?
Having a British passport afforded me some security. I feel like Mama made sure I knew it was a safety net, since she didn’t have one at the time. I remember the process of her “naturalisation” and citizenship, how we looked at each other and giggled when she had to sing the national anthem with a bunch of other immigrants doing the same. A performance I guess, to show we can fit in, we do belong.
Of course, I now realise that not even a British passport affords us complete security. Nor does fighting in wars, having paid more taxes than most billionaires, being positive beacons in our communities, establishing families and businesses....the list could go on. Our stay here was always conditional, always will be.
I think it’s why @rizahmed ‘s Long Goodbye hit differently, on many levels.The short video that was released with the song felt like a terrifying reality too. It’s no wonder why either, when we live in a country that is ready to publicly humiliate Black and Brown folks by ripping them from the roots they’ve planted here and tells us at any moment to leave. These fear tactics are a tool to control, force us into submission, assimilation and shrink everything that makes us unique.
And then came #MogulMowgli , which felt like a visual representation of what it feels like to be “other” in this country. It reached into the depths of me like a hand rummaging around, searching for keys you’re sure you’ve lost, moving this and that out of the way without care or thought of what it is you’re shoving here and there. Thoughts circle in a panic: If I don’t find the key, I can’t get in, if I can’t get in, I won’t be safe, if I’m not safe, they’ll find me out; they’ll find out I’m not the same as them.
It felt like witnessing a rebirth or an undoing and remaking of someone. I feel like that’s how the unlearning feels. When we shed our colonial skins, we feel raw and confused, unable to move and really it’s only when we move back towards our ancestral truths, our faiths, our core, that we feel like we can move again. Like our hearts restart, new life is breathed into us, new purpose and a power that was always ours is found once again. A Reclamation.
I refuse to be The Good Immigrant. I’m finding my way back to myself and reclaiming all that what was meant for me, for them, for us. I am an immigrant but I am part of a rich tapestry of the global majority.
Sun Chaand earrings and Surya necklace are by Anisha Parmar London. You can find them here
