Democracy has been seen to be done
Democracy has been seen to be done and in the UK the Conservative Party has been returned to government with an unexpectedly secure majority. As a result, it seems inevitable that the UK will now leave the European Union next year.
How does this make us feel as a couple of UK citizens who exercised our right to free movement and relocated to Spain over 3 years ago? Waking up this morning at some ungodly hour, and looking at results via social media, my initial reaction was deflation and sadness. I think both Andrew and I feel the same way and we both feel a little marginalised and isolated. However, at the same time, we feel relief and elation at being here, in Spain, by choice, and away from what we see as an unattractive direction being taken by England (I use England here deliberately, as I am aware that other nations are not necessarily of a like mind).
I have always felt more European than British. My father was a pilot in the RAF and as a result I was born in the then West Germany. My early childhood was spent in Cyprus during the 1960s and then I was educated in Northern Ireland. I have never really been able to identify with anywhere in the UK as being ‘home’ as we had a peripatetic life. I suppose Suffolk is the county that I feel the most affinity with, as that is where my parents bought their home, but I only enjoyed life there during school holidays.
In Northern Ireland, where I was bundled into boarding school from the age of 9, I had my first experiences of being marginalised. I was bullied for being English; the English were all gay, apparently, and so began a life of trying to conform to the expectations of others. Because I did not fit in with some perceived ‘norm’, didn’t play rugby and preferred drama, art and English, I spent 9 years of my formative life on the fringe. Andrew, coincidentally, endured an almost identical education in school hidden away in the Scottish Highlands. I left my school with great relief and have never been tempted to return.
In the first year of my degree course, I became friends with a mature student who was married with a young daughter. He was already working as an architectural technician and wanted to gain the qualification to become a fully-fledged architect. We used to go to the campus bar every lunch time and enjoy a pint and a chat. I enjoyed his company.
During one lecture, the tutor, for some reason, asked who had attended private school. I was the only student to raise a hand. From that day onwards, my lunchtime drinking chum had nothing to do with me. I highlight this incident as it has remained with me to this day as a bad memory. I couldn’t understand how people could jump to conclusions based on their own prejudices. Even though this individual had taken the time to get to know me, he assumed that I must be another type of person simply because my parents decided to educate me privately. I had no choice in this matter, nor did I have a choice about the school I attended, or the fact that I was English being educated in Northern Ireland, being subjected to the poems of Seamus Heaney. Apparently, though, these were all reasons to be bullied and/or marginalised.
Likewise, neither Andrew nor I chose to be gay. However, we have spent many years trying to find our place beyond the fringes that have been imposed upon us by others.
One of the reasons I felt the need to shake life up a little 4 years ago was that I was feeling my age. I was aware that my age was becoming a barrier when it came to applying for jobs for which I was both qualified and experienced. I didn’t want to jog on in unchallenging roles until the day I was allowed to retire, so the move to Spain was an opportunity to shake off those worries, and live an adventure, whether or not it worked. Despite being younger than me, Andrew had also reached a similar impasse and the idea of a new life abroad was irresistible. Watching Terence on BBC Breakfast the other morning, a man who has been sidelined into loneliness by society for many years because of his age and single status, only reinforced my opinion that the the UK has lost its way when it comes to compassion and caring and that we have all become selfish and intolerant of others.
I think we both agree that moving to Spain has been the best move we have ever made, and despite occasional challenges, our life here is hugely fulfilling, exciting, inspirational and liberating. We have been able to escape the fringes.
From this distance, living in our lovely home on a mountain in southern Spain, we have watched with great concern as the country we left behind has become increasingly divided. The bitterness that was ignited by the 2016 referendum result has been wholly disheartening, but it appears that there is deep-seated resentment that has been bubbling below the collective surface for many years, and the referendum result allowed this resentment to be voiced, by all sides. Xenophobia, homophobia, racism, intolerance and bullying of every sort appears to be on the rise. I have no doubt that much of this was and is fuelled by the press, but its existence is beyond doubt. Seeing that from our home in Spain brought back all the bad memories of being bullied, treated as an unwanted minority, as someone not ‘normal’ because of the way you behave, think, believe.
I am so thankful for so much that has happened since we moved here. The fact that Andrew is now my husband; the fact that my children love this place as much as we do, and that they feel very much at home here; the fact that we are welcomed here with open arms, and loved by our neighbours. We are managing to forge a life here, feel valued and appreciated, and that we belong.
It is for those reasons, this morning, that we feel a sense of deflation and sadness as today’s election results have indicated that perhaps we no longer belong to the England we left behind. I, certainly, don’t feel a part of this nationalistic jubilation that, finally, England can ‘Get Brexit Done’. I don’t want to be a part of an inward-looking, bullying, selfish and arrogant nation. I want to be part of a forward-looking, inclusive Europe.
Jo Swinson, in her resignation speech, said that she still believed that the country “can be warm and generous, inclusive and open.” For us, the worrying signs are that these qualities no longer exist in England.
I can only hope that the new government does realise that a great deal of raw wounds need to be healed, and they respond with empathy and kindness and do not continue in a bombastic, Trump-like manner that will only serve to marginalise more and more people to the huge detriment of the country as a whole.
