while you celebrate, think.
So, we're leaving the EU. It's official, it happened.
I was against it, but maybe you were for it. That's okay, we disagree, it happens, still friends. And I trust that when you voted, it was because you truly believed it was for the best.
But while you celebrate, think.
Think of the people living here, working here, who have built a life here - but who weren't born here. They had no say in this election, but it will impact on them, far beyond our understanding.
I don't know what this will mean for them, but neither do you.
However, here is what I do know, as someone who lives as a resident in a country not their own - essentially an immigrant*.
It is scary to live in a country where you have no say. It is scary when votes happen and you can do nothing but shoulder the outcome. Your life is in the hands of the people around you, and oftentimes, those who shout the loudest win. And that is terrifying, because those who shout the loudest, well they're often the ones shouting at you.
There is a constant uncomfortable feeling at the pit of your stomach. A constant barrage of questions.
What if?
Will I have to leave this country?
If I have to leave, can I get back in?
What does this mean, logistically, for my standing here?
How does this impact on my residency, on my paperwork, on the next time I need to renew my visa?
Can I still have a bank account, rent a house, find a job?
How does this impact the borders?
These questions are not foreign to me. And today, they are in the minds of countless people here. People who work here, live here, study here. And they don't come alone, each question is joined by the emotional impact of the answer we're praying won't come.
If I have to leave, how do I say goodbye?
How do I pack up the life I have made here, and leave forever?
Can people still come visit me?
Can I still go and visit them?
...What will we tell the kids?
This referendum was not just about us. It is about the country - the country where they live. "Immigration" is not just a word we can throw around and pretend is describing a crowd of faceless, meaningless numbers. These are people. They work with you, they're your neighbours, their kids are in your kids' classes, they sit in your church, you see them at the pub.
I understand that Leave won, and that's something we have to live with. Maybe it will be for the best, only time will tell. Just as I would have let out a sigh of relief had the vote swung the other way, you have the right to react to this decision.
All I ask is that while you celebrate, think.
*I'm actually labelled an expat, a distinction I don't understand.
I was against it, but maybe you were for it. That's okay, we disagree, it happens, still friends. And I trust that when you voted, it was because you truly believed it was for the best.
But while you celebrate, think.
Think of the people living here, working here, who have built a life here - but who weren't born here. They had no say in this election, but it will impact on them, far beyond our understanding.
I don't know what this will mean for them, but neither do you.
However, here is what I do know, as someone who lives as a resident in a country not their own - essentially an immigrant*.
It is scary to live in a country where you have no say. It is scary when votes happen and you can do nothing but shoulder the outcome. Your life is in the hands of the people around you, and oftentimes, those who shout the loudest win. And that is terrifying, because those who shout the loudest, well they're often the ones shouting at you.
There is a constant uncomfortable feeling at the pit of your stomach. A constant barrage of questions.
What if?
Will I have to leave this country?
If I have to leave, can I get back in?
What does this mean, logistically, for my standing here?
How does this impact on my residency, on my paperwork, on the next time I need to renew my visa?
Can I still have a bank account, rent a house, find a job?
How does this impact the borders?
These questions are not foreign to me. And today, they are in the minds of countless people here. People who work here, live here, study here. And they don't come alone, each question is joined by the emotional impact of the answer we're praying won't come.
If I have to leave, how do I say goodbye?
How do I pack up the life I have made here, and leave forever?
Can people still come visit me?
Can I still go and visit them?
...What will we tell the kids?
This referendum was not just about us. It is about the country - the country where they live. "Immigration" is not just a word we can throw around and pretend is describing a crowd of faceless, meaningless numbers. These are people. They work with you, they're your neighbours, their kids are in your kids' classes, they sit in your church, you see them at the pub.
I understand that Leave won, and that's something we have to live with. Maybe it will be for the best, only time will tell. Just as I would have let out a sigh of relief had the vote swung the other way, you have the right to react to this decision.
All I ask is that while you celebrate, think.
*I'm actually labelled an expat, a distinction I don't understand.
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