'I'm scared': German academic in the UK on the Brexit vote
Nadine Muller has lived and worked in higher education since 2005, and has seen big changes in recent years.
June 26, 2016 by Nadine Muller
I am an immigrant. Moving to the UK was a dream of mine ever since I can remember. England was, after all, home to bands like The Clash and The Vibrators, and this was as good a reason as any for a teenager to determine that her future home would be somewhere in the British Isles.
When I arrived at Manchester in 2005 to study for an undergraduate degree, and with the intention to settle here permanently, I found a country which, for the most part, was filled with people who were kind as well as polite.
Away from home, I felt I could start afresh, an opportunity I would never have been able to take if EU students like me hadn't been eligible for tuition fee loans.
Culturally, it was a shaky start. My German frankness wasn't always judged as endearingly odd; and it still gets me in trouble on occasion, actually. But I loved what I had found: diverse communities, friendly people, civilised queues, and good tea.
My continental education served me well: I felt more independent than my British counterparts, and I was driven and lucky enough to be awarded a PhD scholarship before I had even attended my graduation ceremony for my undergraduate degree. Without this scholarship, I would have never been able to pursue a research career.
I have no idea what I would have done, to be honest. Since finishing my PhD, I have spent much of my time and energy on trying to help make academia in the UK more inclusive, especially for women, for working-class students, and for immigrants.
But over the past few years, something has changed.
I realised that I was reading hostile media commentaries on immigration on an almost daily basis. People who I thought were friends posted status updates and images which suggested that "foreigners" ought to have a card machine next to their hospital beds. The words "scrounging", usually juxtaposed with "hard-working", made a far too regular appearance in the papers and on my social media timelines in relation to the working classes and those not born in this country. I began pointing out to people that I - though white, highly educated, and bilingual - was also an immigrant. The responses were shocking. I wasn't the issue, they said. I was decent, they told me. After all, I had a job.
I wasn't a scrounger who wanted everything handing on a plate. I learned that these people seemed to judge my value as a human being on my economic status and my employment. Friends indeed.
Slowly, the picture changed. I saw that here was a country in which only a small number of natives are fluent in a second language because connecting with other people in their mother tongue is apparently not desirable; at least not enough to justify adequate funding for language teaching. Why learn when the world caters to your linguistic requirements?
I began to realise that Britain still seems to think of itself as something of an empire. Somehow, this country that I had come to love despite its flaws - this country with no industry to speak of, with a collapsed banking sector, and with the biggest inequalities in the Western world - still thought it was special. So special, in fact, that over half of its electorate seems to think they can safely discard the lessons of history.
The European Union was a safety measure and antidote to the nationalism that had swept across Europe during, and indeed caused, the Second World War.
I am scared. I am scared because a country that has steadily mainstreamed racism, xenophobia, and a deluded sense of self-importance has decided it is above this union of nations; above a group of countries that have come together to keep each other in check and to protect their peoples' rights across national borders.
Somehow, this country has decided that it is best off facing the world alone. Somehow, this country seems to think the way forward is isolation. Somehow, this country appears to think that its issues are down to the European Union rather than a political elite that is as representative of the British population as Bavaria is of Germany.
I try to be hopeful, but I struggle. Many friends - virtual and real - tell me they are sorry, and that I am welcome here. The youngest generation of voters - which includes my students - have made it clear that they want a Britain that is connected to Europe and to the world.
This vote will affect them the most, and quite possibly for the rest of their lives. All I can do is hope they are still proud to be taught by a working-class woman who speaks two languages. All I can do is continue to teach them how to pick apart the messages and myths of hate thrown at them by the media and by politicians every day.
All I can do is help them realise that silence can be fatal when you encounter discrimination and hatred. I hope they will speak up for those who now need it the most, and more than ever. I know they would speak up for me, if I was no longer welcome.
Nadine Muller is senior lecturer in English literature and cultural history at Liverpool John Moores University
Source: https://www.timeshighereducation.com/blog/im-scared-german-academic-uk-brexit-vote
Nadine Muller has lived and worked in higher education since 2005, and has seen big changes in recent years.
June 26, 2016 by Nadine Muller
I am an immigrant. Moving to the UK was a dream of mine ever since I can remember. England was, after all, home to bands like The Clash and The Vibrators, and this was as good a reason as any for a teenager to determine that her future home would be somewhere in the British Isles.
When I arrived at Manchester in 2005 to study for an undergraduate degree, and with the intention to settle here permanently, I found a country which, for the most part, was filled with people who were kind as well as polite.
Away from home, I felt I could start afresh, an opportunity I would never have been able to take if EU students like me hadn't been eligible for tuition fee loans.
Culturally, it was a shaky start. My German frankness wasn't always judged as endearingly odd; and it still gets me in trouble on occasion, actually. But I loved what I had found: diverse communities, friendly people, civilised queues, and good tea.
My continental education served me well: I felt more independent than my British counterparts, and I was driven and lucky enough to be awarded a PhD scholarship before I had even attended my graduation ceremony for my undergraduate degree. Without this scholarship, I would have never been able to pursue a research career.
I have no idea what I would have done, to be honest. Since finishing my PhD, I have spent much of my time and energy on trying to help make academia in the UK more inclusive, especially for women, for working-class students, and for immigrants.
But over the past few years, something has changed.
I realised that I was reading hostile media commentaries on immigration on an almost daily basis. People who I thought were friends posted status updates and images which suggested that "foreigners" ought to have a card machine next to their hospital beds. The words "scrounging", usually juxtaposed with "hard-working", made a far too regular appearance in the papers and on my social media timelines in relation to the working classes and those not born in this country. I began pointing out to people that I - though white, highly educated, and bilingual - was also an immigrant. The responses were shocking. I wasn't the issue, they said. I was decent, they told me. After all, I had a job.
I wasn't a scrounger who wanted everything handing on a plate. I learned that these people seemed to judge my value as a human being on my economic status and my employment. Friends indeed.
Slowly, the picture changed. I saw that here was a country in which only a small number of natives are fluent in a second language because connecting with other people in their mother tongue is apparently not desirable; at least not enough to justify adequate funding for language teaching. Why learn when the world caters to your linguistic requirements?
I began to realise that Britain still seems to think of itself as something of an empire. Somehow, this country that I had come to love despite its flaws - this country with no industry to speak of, with a collapsed banking sector, and with the biggest inequalities in the Western world - still thought it was special. So special, in fact, that over half of its electorate seems to think they can safely discard the lessons of history.
The European Union was a safety measure and antidote to the nationalism that had swept across Europe during, and indeed caused, the Second World War.
I am scared. I am scared because a country that has steadily mainstreamed racism, xenophobia, and a deluded sense of self-importance has decided it is above this union of nations; above a group of countries that have come together to keep each other in check and to protect their peoples' rights across national borders.
Somehow, this country has decided that it is best off facing the world alone. Somehow, this country seems to think the way forward is isolation. Somehow, this country appears to think that its issues are down to the European Union rather than a political elite that is as representative of the British population as Bavaria is of Germany.
I try to be hopeful, but I struggle. Many friends - virtual and real - tell me they are sorry, and that I am welcome here. The youngest generation of voters - which includes my students - have made it clear that they want a Britain that is connected to Europe and to the world.
This vote will affect them the most, and quite possibly for the rest of their lives. All I can do is hope they are still proud to be taught by a working-class woman who speaks two languages. All I can do is continue to teach them how to pick apart the messages and myths of hate thrown at them by the media and by politicians every day.
All I can do is help them realise that silence can be fatal when you encounter discrimination and hatred. I hope they will speak up for those who now need it the most, and more than ever. I know they would speak up for me, if I was no longer welcome.
Nadine Muller is senior lecturer in English literature and cultural history at Liverpool John Moores University
Source: https://www.timeshighereducation.com/blog/im-scared-german-academic-uk-brexit-vote
On 26 June 2016 at 16:14, Mobolaji Aluko <alukome@gmail.com> wrote:
--Damned if you do, damned if you don;t....classical Hobbesian Choices after a Cameron post-Brexit "coup" of quitting, and refusing to steer the Brexit ship...
BREXIT UPDATE
An article ... From the Guardians comments section
June 25, 2016If Boris Johnson looked downbeat yesterday, that is because he realises that he has lost.
Perhaps many Brexiters do not realise it yet, but they have actually lost, and it is all down to one man: David Cameron.
With one fell swoop yesterday at 9:15 am, Cameron effectively annulled the referendum result, and simultaneously destroyed the political careers of Boris Johnson, Michael Gove and leading Brexiters who cost him so much anguish, not to mention his premiership.
How?
Throughout the campaign, Cameron had repeatedly said that a vote for leave would lead to triggering Article 50 straight away. Whether implicitly or explicitly, the image was clear: he would be giving that notice under Article 50 the morning after a vote to leave. Whether that was scaremongering or not is a bit moot now but, in the midst of the sentimental nautical references of his speech yesterday, he quietly abandoned that position and handed the responsibility over to his successor.
And as the day wore on, the enormity of that step started to sink in: the markets, Sterling, Scotland, the Irish border, the Gibraltar border, the frontier at Calais, the need to continue compliance with all EU regulations for a free market, re-issuing passports, Brits abroad, EU citizens in Britain, the mountain of legislation to be torn up and rewritten ... the list grew and grew.
The referendum result is not binding. It is advisory. Parliament is not bound to commit itself in that same direction.
The Conservative party election that Cameron triggered will now have one question looming over it: will you, if elected as party leader, trigger the notice under Article 50?
Who will want to have the responsibility of all those ramifications and consequences on his/her head and shoulders?
Boris Johnson knew this yesterday, when he emerged subdued from his home and was even more subdued at the press conference. He has been out-maneouvered and check-mated.
If he runs for leadership of the party, and then fails to follow through on triggering Article 50, then he is finished. If he does not run and effectively abandons the field, then he is finished. If he runs, wins and pulls the UK out of the EU, then it will all be over - Scotland will break away, there will be upheaval in Ireland, a recession ... broken trade agreements. Then he is also finished. Boris Johnson knows all of this. When he acts like the dumb blond it is just that: an act.
The Brexit leaders now have a result that they cannot use. For them, leadership of the Tory party has become a poison chalice.
When Boris Johnson said there was no need to trigger Article 50 straight away, what he really meant to say was "never". When Michael Gove went on and on about "informal negotiations" ... why? why not the formal ones straight away? ... he also meant not triggering the formal departure. They both know what a formal demarche would mean: an irreversible step that neither of them is prepared to take.
All that remains is for someone to have the guts to stand up and say that Brexit is unachievable in reality without an enormous amount of pain and destruction, that cannot be borne. And David Cameron has put the onus of making that statement on the heads of the people who led the Brexit campaign._______________________________________________________________
Listserv moderated by Toyin Falola, University of Texas at Austin
To post to this group, send an email to USAAfricaDialogue@googlegroups.com
To subscribe to this group, send an email to USAAfricaDialogue+subscribe@googlegroups.com
Current archives at http://groups.google.com/group/USAAfricaDialogue
Early archives at http://www.utexas.edu/conferences/africa/ads/index.html
---
You received this message because you are subscribed to the Google Groups "USA Africa Dialogue Series" group.
To unsubscribe from this group and stop receiving emails from it, send an email to usaafricadialogue+unsubscribe@googlegroups.com.
For more options, visit https://groups.google.com/d/optout.
Listserv moderated by Toyin Falola, University of Texas at Austin
To post to this group, send an email to USAAfricaDialogue@googlegroups.com
To subscribe to this group, send an email to USAAfricaDialogue+subscribe@googlegroups.com
Current archives at http://groups.google.com/group/USAAfricaDialogue
Early archives at http://www.utexas.edu/conferences/africa/ads/index.html
---
You received this message because you are subscribed to the Google Groups "USA Africa Dialogue Series" group.
To unsubscribe from this group and stop receiving emails from it, send an email to usaafricadialogue+unsubscribe@googlegroups.com.
For more options, visit https://groups.google.com/d/optout.
No comments:
Post a Comment