7 minute read
Sleepers Flora Hannay
DYNAMIC DIVERSITY:
SOCIETY ON THE MOVE Alice Caiger Tireni Adeniji
Although a highly debated topic in politics today, I believe it to be very tough to justify restrictions on immigration, let alone refugees. The combination of cultures can only lead to good impacts because there is no way to grow as a society without experiencing or trying to understand other’s lives. We cannot be complacent with our current society but instead must learn to accept other cultures and lifestyles so that we do not stay the same for centuries to come.
When thinking about the moral implications of restricting migration, many philosophers have had different views. On the one hand, the concern to protect one’s native culture is supposedly reason enough to restrict immigration, but cosmopolitan egalitarianism would argue that people do not choose where to be born, and thus borders should remain open. Carens even insists that ‘restrictive citizenship is hard to justify when one thinks about it closely’ and compares the system to ‘feudal birth rights’ or simply nepotism. In the same way that someone born into poverty should be helped so that the playing field for opportunity is equal, people born into less fortunate countries should have access to a better standard of living and a place of refuge. Our world appears to be growing in inequality with each passing day and yet change does not seem to be anywhere on the horizon.
With refugees fleeing from conflict in places such as Ukraine and Afghanistan, international migration is more and more debated in our increasingly polarised society. From a purely practical point of view, international migration brings a multitude of problems to the destination country – many of which are exacerbated by forced migrants being held in camps as well as the lack of resources to manage the problems in lower income areas. Not to mention the huge environmental degradation which can occur due to overcrowding with an influx of migrants. Perhaps this argument all boils down to simple human nature and an old Darwinian idea – survival of the fittest. Should we hold ourselves responsible for another’s poor decisions, or is the priority to clean up their mess as fast as possible? All these issues aside, is it morally acceptable to turn away refugees, to turn away people whose homes have been destroyed? Or even to turn away those who simply want a better quality of life, one which we all take for granted, and merely desire a living wage and an education for their children?
Economically, migration seems to be an obvious choice, especially for us here in the UK with a rapidly ageing population and a diminishing workforce. In fact, to maintain the current economy, we would need around one million migrants every year. Of course this statistic is not quite as clean cut as it seems, for starters we need a specific number of different specified skillsets so refugee migration cannot solve this, and this is obviously not a sustainable way to uphold a country. The increased immigration flows to the UK after the expanding of the EU, however, did help to fill millions of job vacancies as well as contributing £2.5 billion to the economy every year. But this flow was made up of economic migrants and the same benefits rarely apply to refugee migration. It does not help that refugees tend to look for the closest place of safety, even if they’re low or middle income countries; whereas economic migrants will choose their destination carefully, based on job availability. With high income countries tending to receive the most economic migrants, it is not surprising that the impacts are more beneficial.
In terms of social impacts, it all comes down to the acceptance levels of new people and culture in the destination country. We are, of course, talking about a small percentage of people, but with the accessibility of social media on the rise, the platform to share, at worst, racist and xenophobic hate speech is growing in power. This can lead to a rise in racial and xenophobic violence, as experienced in Jordan in 2009 with a 30% increase in violence. I don’t believe this to be a standalone reason to ban immigration but a factor as to why it may have more negative impacts.
With so much tension in the world at the moment I cannot help but believe that what we need to do is unite and support each other. B4ecoming a more diverse community is the first step to improving our world and slowly inching towards a solution to inequality. The geopolitical impacts pale in comparison to human rights and the option to give people a place of safety. I do not know how you could preach equality at the same as sending away people in desperate need. I refuse to believe that is what our world has come to.
Elias Daryani Sihu Jung
Dear me, Deary me 5% battery Running out of time While I’m running from my enemy Life is dull But full of colour Burning cigs Feeling other Lots of jokes Under cover Pick some clothes For my lover Brother, son, friend, cousin, student, daddy, Why’d I bother. It’s irrelevant, Ocean wide development I’ve always liked experiments Frances where the severance Happened in some residence But frankly what’s my preference? Answer’s known, can’t leave it there Eclipse is solar, see the glares Block it all, have no cares Come outside, if you dare Block it all, what’s my truth Judging me with every move Talk to God like nothing’s new Leap of faith, will He refuse? If you go to Knossos and you forget the noise and the heat and the bustle and clamour, and you listen very carefully, you might just hear a very faint tap-tap-tap.
The tap-tap-tap is so quiet, so mediocre, so very unremarkable, you wouldn’t notice it at all – unless you knew what you were looking for.
The tap-tap-tap is the sound of an unloved one, listening to their heart.
The tap-tap-tap is the sound of Ariadne’s footsteps as she spins and twirls on her dancefloor.
There, she can forget her father, Minos, as he stalks the palace relentlessly, hunting for something – anything – to blame.
She can forget her mother. The once-beautiful Pasiphae, staring unseeingly into the fire. It is as though her soul has turned to dust. Gone, forever.
And she can forget her brother. The Minotaur.
As she dances, bitterness and fury and frustration and sorrow slip out like silky Cretan sand. Her head is erect and upright. It is only her soul, her heart, brought to the open after months of shadow, that is bruised.
Perhaps it will remain like that forever.
The sun sinks beneath the burning sky, and Ariadne dances on. A place of splendour, a golden place of shining glory and immeasurable power: a place to be worshipped, and feared, and hated, and loved. Loved, with a furiously ardent passion.
Loved, but it is dangerous to be so worthy, and valued, in a money-hungry, power-hungry world such as ours.
Yet it is only a shell, a hollow memory; each brick traced by aeons of fingertips, each fleck of paint and pile of dust eyed by thousands – hundreds of thousands, millions – of people.
Ariadne’s dancefloor stands, silent. The footsteps that echo on it now are no more than shadows. The Labyrinth stays hidden; perhaps it will for ever. Some secrets are better left alone.
Buried memories hidden in every shadow, returning when Knossos is loneliest, and weakest, and most vulnerable. When ghosts of the past – all the things hidden by the gauze of eminence – begin to bubble in its prison, and break the surface. When the silence is so quietly poignant and silently haunting, that your own characters begin to appear.
How could you take all that and make it one word?
Knossos stands: maudlin, majestic. The apparitions of the past are stirring…but not yet.
Instead, Knossos stands. And as I watch, the sun dipped below the horizon, and the golden, glittering glory of a world thousands of years old is gone.
Ariadne Abigail Griffiths Izzy Hassan
