Scroll through social media right now and there’s no doubt you’ll come across discourse around immigrants and minorities.
Of course, you’ll see hateful, xenophobic and racist remarks in the wake of terrifying far-right riots in the UK this week. But you’ll also see many people trying to defend minorities.
‘Our society wouldn’t be half as functional without immigrants doing the jobs that proud English people won’t do.’ ‘Just one day without ethnic minorities and you’d see how society fails to function.’ ‘Imagine the state of the NHS without immigrants working in it.’
While these posts are well-intentioned, they feed into a dangerous narrative – defining someone’s worth by their contribution to society. Which, in my mind, is the problematic and harmful trap of the ‘model minority’ trope.
The model minority is someone who is considered a ‘good immigrant’. They will achieve a high economic status and be immune to the disenfranchisement felt by other immigrants. They won’t complain, they will work hard and study hard.
It’s something my family knows all too well.
In the 1970s, my parents left India and came to the UK. They worked multiple jobs to make their way through parenting in a foreign land and they were given the impression that Britain was a land of opportunity.
I was born in the UK and I used to wonder why my family would push for me to study hard and become a doctor, lawyer or engineer. Or why it was always the joke in British Asian films.
As a child, I would declare ‘I’m going to be creative!’ to my worried parents – not really clocking the concern in their eyes.
It took me longer than I care to admit that I finally came to realise why – the model minority myth had filled their minds because, quite frankly, they had no choice but to abide by it.
When my parents first immigrated, verbal abuse was a regular thing. My dad even recently messaged me about coming up against the National Front (but he wouldn’t say more).
And so my mum always said to me ‘just keep your head down and blend in’. It wasn’t because she didn’t want me to thrive. It’s because of fear.
So what’s the seemingly perfect type of minority?
As the editor of the award-winning anthology The Good Immigrant, Nikesh Shukla said: ‘Here are ways you can become a good immigrant: win a televised baking show, win a gold in the Olympics, write a Christmas number one, don’t say that you’ve experienced casual racism.’
This is exactly what we see in how our worth is perceived. Although these people are not immune to racism, they are held to a standard that all minorities ‘should’ achieve, otherwise… ‘go back home’.
So the reason my parents wanted me to get a job as a model minority is because that’s what the value of our existence has always been. My value – they feared – would diminish as a creative person, and I would be open to mistreatment.
This fear wasn’t plucked out of nowhere. It is British history.
From 1948 – in post-war Britain – the Government needed help rebuilding the economy and filling labour shortages. So they invited people from Caribbean countries to work at the brand new NHS, and as drivers or cleaners.
It was a time that people were used as resources to ‘fill’ economic gaps. These immigrants arrived on HMT Empire Windrush, and we have been fighting for their rights since.
Unfortunately, since then, the way immigrants have been viewed, are as objects of value.
Former Home Secretary Priti Patel’s point-based immigration system is a clear example of this. She brought in a plan that assigned points per specific skills and qualifications – visas will only be awarded to those who gain enough.
As well as being given points, we’re told how many are allowed into this country, for labour that they cannot fill with their own people. Like a Tesco clubcard, immigrants have been reduced to caricatures of humans.
But since the far-right riots this past week, I’ve seen people condemn nationalist ideology by declaring that immigrants are your doctors – ‘they save your life’.
While this is true and valuable, it also adds to the model minority myth.
It says to me that those who aren’t doctors and such, should not be immune to these attacks. It pits people against each other with stereotypes that don’t exist – it implies that some Asians are doctors, but the rest are terrorists.
It essentially tells people to respect one and fear the other.
But immigrants should not be valued on whether they can save your life or not – or their economic worth. They should just be valued as human beings.
Something, I fear, is not happening, when I watch young kids walking down UK streets this week gleefully chanting ‘P*ki’s out!’
I personally haven’t heard someone yell that since I had it directed at me at a lunchtime boat party in Vauxhall in 2013. As I sat there with a pint of fruity cider, a couple tried to get on the boat, were escorted off, saw me and yelled ‘fucking p*ki’.
I’ve had rumblings of it occasionally since, but nothing as direct.
However, the last few days I’ve found myself standing at my front door for an hour, gathering the strength to walk out and face what could possibly be awaiting me. My anxiety has been at an all-time high, as I try to navigate my every day.
A person’s safety should not be predetermined on how much value they add to a country’s economic system.
Immigrants should be allowed to ‘do nothing’ – a luxury afforded to others. Can they not go to work in a dead-end job, be miserable, go to sleep and start over again
Isn’t that the British dream? Because if not, should we not judge British people by the same point system? Obviously not.
The system itself is inherently flawed, but acknowledging it is the first step in dismantling it.
And if we keep telling immigrants that we love them because they save our lives – because they are our neighbours, friends or family – then we’re doing ourselves an injustice as human beings.
Do you have a story you’d like to share? Get in touch by emailing jess.austin@metro.co.uk.
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