When does the border end? Three challenges UK migrants face as explored in “Living in Sheffield: our journeys as migrant women”
by Kiara Delgado Derteano (Student at the University of Sheffield in the module POL244, Spring 2024)
Livia Barreira, author of “Living in Sheffield: our journeys as migrant women”, upon reflecting on her own experience, describes the migration process as a “loss of identity to find oneself in a new country” (2022, p.49). Migration can be, as the empowerment lens of this book suggests, an ultimately rewarding process that has ultimately allowed women to live in a fulfilling way after settling in the UK. The book sends a celebratory message to the audience via the refreshingly inspiring anecdotes of the interviewees. However, the challenges they face throughout the migration process are shaped by their identities: nationality, race, gender or relationship status. This blog will explore how do these factors can shape migration journeys and ultimately answer the question every migrant has in mind: when does the UK border end?
Is the UK migration process equal across nationalities?
Your experience as a migrant does not start at the airport, but rather the moment you are born, otherwise known as the moment you are assigned a nationality. Across the book, we follow the stories of women migrating from different countries who follow various bureaucratic processes to stay in the UK. A clear difference is that between EU nationals and migrants from other countries. Whilst the former who moved to the UK pre-Brexit were able to undergo the route to settlement and apply citizenship rights in the UK, the latter had to follow a much more lengthy and costly process to acquire the right to stay. This is Seiko Kinoshita’s case, who had to renew her visa every year from 2001 until 2010 before applying for naturalisation (Barreira, 2022, p.62-4). That is minimum applying for a 10-year visa and maximum 20 6-month visas (depending on personal needs and circumstances) and an Indefinite Leave to Remain before applying to citizenship.
Although migratory processes always induce anxiety and uncertainty, the experience of non-EU nationals indeed tends to be more exhausting and at a higher emotional, administrative and economic cost.
This situation is a clear example of the Global Migration Divide, which refers to the differences in visa-free destinations between citizens from different states. Mau et al. (2015) studied the evolution of visa regimes since 1964 in comparison to 2010 and found that citizens from OECD countries enjoy significantly more mobility rights than those from non-OECD countries. Whilst some countries amongst the latter group have gained mobility rights over time, others, such as African states, have progressively lost them. The authors conclude that “differences in terms of wealth, religion, colonial history or political regime might be pertinent factors which could potentially explain this divide.”(Mau et al., 2015, p.1207) Eule et al.(2018) analyses state negotiations, practical implementation and migrant agency as factors; however, they conclude that there is no “central logic or a ‘masterplan’” regarding how states manage the migration regime. Perhaps, the best way to describe it is as a combination of contradictory policies constantly changing according to state interests, execution and resistance.
A case worth highlighting is Marina Lario’s, who had a troublesome experience moving to study in the UK and later on settling down in Sheffield. The lack of support she experienced whilst immigrating to the UK, inspired her to create Inova Education. Her business initiative focuses on helping Mexican students (now extended to Latin American students) with their visa applications, support, enrolment and arrival to UK universities (p.54). In this case, we can identify the three key factors influencing the Global Mobility Divide. For starters, state negotiations have shaped a system in which students can apply for a visa to study in the UK. Notwithstanding, these requirements tend to be highly precise and require costly and lengthy evidence for an application that could be rejected. In practice, this process is so overwhelming that prospective students often find themselves in distressing situations and need external support. As a result, migrant agency manifests itself as Inova Education, finding ways to help prospective students through their migration journeys.
How does migration look after getting permission to stay in the UK?
Now that one has acquired permission to enter the UK, it’s time to queue under the UK Border stalls at the airport and get all your documents ready for scrutiny. However, crossing the blue banner is far from being the last border. The experience of living as a migrant in the UK is a convoluted one; however, once one has spent 10 years in the country and, after finally getting a settlement status or even citizenship, one should stop feeling like a foreigner, right? After all, this is what the naturalisation process implies. Yet once again, this is not what happens in real life. Several women in the book, amongst them Mariana (p.57), mention a continued struggle with feelings of un-belonging despite having the legal right to stay in the UK.
According to Badenhopp (2023), the rationality under which citizenship is granted in the UK is almost exclusively that of “citizenship as a reward” for proving to be worthy enough to be a UK citizen. Under this view, citizenship is conceived by the government as an “endpoint” of the “naturalisation” process, already implying belonging. At the same time, the state emphasises the importance of the new citizen to create an emotional attachment to the nation, exercised via naturalisation ceremonies which “treats the successful candidate as a special guest to the state” (Badenhopp, 2023, p.47). Hence, recognising the importance of belonging to one’s country of citizenship. Although this link may seem obvious, race and nationality play a never-ending role in shaping naturalised citizens experiences.
As Barreira narrates, “naturalised” women in Sheffield suffer from discrimination before and after being granted permission to stay in the UK. This is what we consider “everyday borders” or bordering: practices of differentiation that “produce complex hierarchies not only between citizens and immigrants but also within these categories” (Tervonen, 2018). As any social strate, bordering is not only executed by public officers but also by private agents and civilians themselves as underscored by Côté-Boucher et al (2014).
A concrete manner in which “bordering” manifests is through the stereotyping of migrants. Dominika Tkacova shares her experience of being labelled as a “job thief” and “benefit reaper” due to her Slovakian nationality, and despite having lived in the UK since 11 years old. This poses an everyday border, as she is not framed as a woman deserving of employment, but instead, as someone whose employment is not legitimate: “stolen” from “UK-born nationals”. Therefore, even if Dominika legally crossed the border and settled down in the UK, facing this situation is a reminder that she is, regardless of her legal status, a “second-class citizen”. This could also explain why she felt more comfortable around international students during her time at university, her experience being closer to that of immigrants rather than UK citizens.
Furthering the “everyday borders'' discussion, the colonial roots of migration politics become evident. Achiume (2021) explores how digital borders reinforce the racialised exclusion of migrants, targeting individuals based on their perceived race or ethnicity. Although Achiume’s argument focuses on digital borders, its inherent racism is a reflection of the current UK socio-political climate, transforming ancient colonial restrictions on racialised peoples’ mobility into every day “bordering” practices. To illustrate, Angelina Abel confesses to having experienced racism whilst living in the UK for almost 20 years (p.87-91). Despite using her art as a dance performer to protest against racial exclusion, she remains fearful that her daughter will face the same situations as she did regardless of being a UK citizen. A prime example is that of the Southport stabbings, where misinformation regarding the citizenship status, religious identity and race of the stabber sparked racist and xenophobic riots across the UK. Even if it was later discovered that the stabber was a UK citizen, his racial identity was still highlighted by EDL as a motive to terrorise cities across the country. Regrettably, racist practices and attitudes permeate the idea that non-white citizens are automatically “second-class citizens”, whose heritage impedes them from fitting the image of the white UK national. Therefore, it becomes evident that legal status to remain in the UK does not equal belonging.
What about love? Is marriage an “easier” migration avenue?
Migration can be exhausting, and one may not ever feel like they belong to their country of naturalisation; however, what happens if you fall in love? At the end of the day, love is one of the most powerful feeling humans can bear, and one that has encouraged people to fly across the seas to form a life with their significant other. Having a long-term partner who is a UK national should make it easier to become naturalised as one has a literal human being as a “form of attachment” to the country, right?
Well, UK migratory regulations would beg to differ. Carver (2014) argues that the 2012 changes to family migration visas were rationalised through “racialised and sexualised anxiety over the intimacies of migrant families”. It is due to the alleged rise of “sham marriages” that family visas began to be scrutinised. Ever since, policymakers have increased laws and regulations as well as required evidence to verify the legitimacy of a bond. Such scrutiny of intimacies works under the assumption that not all marriages, particularly those of UK nationals with racialised migrants, are not “genuine” or “legitimate”. Turner and Vera-Espinoza (2021) argue that the scrutiny of intimate relationships and attempts to rationalise family visa application processes demand a heteronormative Western performance of “family”. Currently, couples need not only to prove they are legally bound and economically active in the UK but also the genuineness and subsistence of such relationships, submitting artefacts from one’s private life as proof. Such a practice would be considered a heavy infringement of one’s rights to a private life in any other circumstance (except for a police investigation). Nonetheless, it is still required to couples who wish to apply for a family migration visa.
This is also the case of Livia Barreira herself, who met her husband in Portugal whilst studying abroad in 2014. Although she first moved to the UK to marry her partner, Livia emphasises the “high cost of becoming British (p.46-48)”. She describes the “naturalisation” process as emotionally extenuating and financially draining, having spent up to 11,000 pounds to get the permanent residence. Meanwhile, she also had to gather the “evidence” to justify her bond to the UK Home Office, engaging in the performance of the UK home. For instance, one of these factors involves justifying that the family could only live in the UK and no other country. Consequently, Applicants are demanded to perform attachment to the UK and detachment from their origin country to dissipate any suspicions of double loyalties (Turner and Vera-Espinoza, 2021, p.370). Livia and all the women in the book express feeling strongly connected to their families and countries of birth; however, they are asked to permeate a “disingenuous” image of their identities which reaffirms the UK’s superior status in comparison to their countries of origin.
So… When does the border end?
Barreira’s book has allowed us to identify migration phenomena like the Global Mobility Divide, everyday borders, and the scrutiny of intimacies. Through Mariana’s experience, we were able to analyse the three key elements that shape the Global Migration Divide: state negotiations, enforcement, and migrant agency. Dominka’s and Angelina’s journeys helped us explore acquired citizenship and its lack of correlation to belonging since nationality and race heavily influence one’s experience in the UK as an immigrant. Finally, Livia’s “naturalisation” process allowed us to analyse the state’s scrutiny of intimacies as a costly process (both emotionally and economically) that perpetuates false conceptions of family. It seems then, that the border never ends, as one’s journey starts from the moment one is born and continues throughout their lives in the UK. However, this does not mean that migration cannot be a fulfilling experience. All the women portrayed in “Living in Sheffield: our stories as migrant women” have been able to overcome these challenges to pursue their dreams in Sheffield, sending an inspiring message worth listening to. As a migrant myself, and as a Politics student, it is very easy to get caught up in all the challenges migrants face and how they negatively impact our lives. However, this book is an amazing reminder of why we undergo the migration process and all the joyful experiences that come along with it: the “loss of identity to find oneself in a new country”.
References
Achiume, E.T. (2021) ‘Digital Racial Borders’, 115, pp. 333–338. Available at: https://doi.org/10.1017/aju.2021.52.
Badenhoop, E. (2023) ‘Rationalities of Naturalisation: Citizenship as Award or Entitlement’, in Badenhoop, E., Calling for the Super Citizen. Cham: Springer International Publishing (Palgrave Politics of Identity and Citizenship Series), pp. 65–101. Available at: https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-031-34260-8_3.
Barreira, L. (2022) Living in Sheffield: our journeys as migrant women. Sheffield: Livia Barreira.
Carver, N. (2014) ‘Displaying genuineness: cultural translation in the drafting of marriage narratives for immigration applications and appeals’, Families, Relationships and Societies, 3(2), pp. 271–286. Available at: https://doi.org/10.1332/204674313X669937.
Côté-Boucher, K., Infantino, F. and Salter, M.B. (2014) ‘Border security as practice: An agenda for research’, Security Dialogue, 45(3), pp. 195–208. Available at: https://doi.org/10.1177/0967010614533243.
Eule, T.G., Loher, D. and Wyss, A. (2018) ‘Contested control at the margins of the state’, Journal of Ethnic and Migration Studies, 44(16), pp. 2717–2729. Available at: https://doi.org/10.1080/1369183X.2017.1401511.
Mau, S. et al. (2015) ‘The Global Mobility Divide: How Visa Policies Have Evolved over Time’, Journal of Ethnic and Migration Studies, 41(8), pp. 1192–1213. Available at: https://doi.org/10.1080/1369183X.2015.1005007.
Tervonen, M., Pellander, S. and Yuval-Davis, N. (2018) ‘Everyday Bordering in the Nordic Countries’, Nordic Journal of Migration Research, 8(3), pp. 139–142.
Turner, J. and Vera Espinoza, M. (2021) ‘The Affective and Intimate Life of the Family Migration Visa: Knowing, Feeling and Encountering the Heteronormative State’, Geopolitics, 26(2), pp. 357–377. Available at: https://doi.org/10.1080/14650045.2019.1603994.
