Freedom of movement

It’s been a few weeks since I’ve had the time and motivation to sit down and write, but I guess that just happens hey. I’ve been pretty busy working, spending time with friends and family and getting ready for Canada (23 days, can you believe it?!)

Amongst all this busyness, restless nights and waking up at 4am panicking about how many pairs of shoes I’m going to be able to fit inside my suitcase – I’ve actually been thinking a lot lately about immigration and the ability of us being able (or not able) to move freely around the world.

It’s a pretty heavy subject in Britain. A few days after Brexit an elderly man asked me at a bus stop why ‘us youths’ were so upset with his generation for voting leave. I was ready to whip out a presentation and all sorts but fortunately for him my bus came along…

I’ve always believed that people should be able to travel and immigrate openly around the world. There is so much to do, see and experience out there. So many people to meet, so many stories to hear and share. There a many places that are a hell of a lot safer than others. I simply don’t see the point in borders because when it comes down to it, the only thing we have to answer to is mother nature – when she blows, she’ll blow…and we really need to start looking after her and rectifying our past mistakes.

Maybe I have this view because I’m a bit of a environmentalist-hippy and I’ve experienced how immigration can have such a positive affect on a families life – that being mine. By the time I was five I’d lived in three different countries – all in Europe but all very different from one another. I’ve grown up speaking Serbian in my household, Norwegian between the ages of three to five and then I started to learn English at the age of five too. Now I’m 23 and I’m moving to Canada and jumpstarting my dream of travelling around the globe.

Thanks to my courageous parents, I’ve been able to live a lot more comfortably then they did growing up. I’ve worked various jobs, studied, traveled and done things that they could only have dreamed of; every single day I’m wholly grateful for this.

It makes me think, if you were fortunate enough to be born in a first-world country where you do not have to migrate away from war or poverty, it’s out of sheer luck – nothing else – you don’t own anything or anyone. How can people truly agree with the state having control over where a person, or couple or family want to build a safe home? The world is full of economical imbalances, is it not our duty to extend acts of kindness amongst each other?

If you’ve done a lot of travelling, immigrated or come from an immigrant family I’d love to hear your views on this!



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