Posted By: Molly Naylor, 18 October 2011
Last week myself and James, a refugee from the Congo, visited a range of schools across Norfolk to talk to young people about issues surrounding refugees and asylum seekers. James told them his life story, sharing the details of his emotional and epic journey from Africa to Norfolk. We then explored the themes, ideas and issues that arose through discussion, writing exercises and poetry.
For me, the main impact of these workshops is their power to raise awareness and provoke thought. Norfolk can sometimes feel a million miles from anywhere. It’s easy for me to forget this as I’m up and down from London most weeks and have lived in many places before finding this lovely, dreamy, flat old county. But I met some kids last week who’d never been on a train, and had certainly never met anyone from the Congo.
Despite this, we found the young people hugely empathetic, sensitive and thoughtful as they listened to James’s story of how he came to be in Norwich. Prejudice is often born of ignorance, or a fear of the unknown; so introducing young people to these ideas early on in their lives must go a long way towards avoiding knee-jerk stereotypical responses to asylum issues. I’m pretty sure none of the young people we met will end up saying the sentence ‘they come over here, taking our jobs…’
Instead they are now armed with facts, as well as the personal details of James’s story. They know now for example that only 3% of the world’s refugees live in the UK, and they have a list of examples of cultural and economic contributions refugees have made to our country. The writing exercises helped with the empathy; getting them to imagine themselves in certain situations and consider their own responses and reactions. Exploring the question of what would be in their suitcase if they had to immediately leave town blew some of their minds a bit, and led to heated debate, big hypothetical decisions, and a blast of perspective.
And not just for them. Because although James and I planned and taught the workshops together, there were times when I felt I had more in common with the young people. We’d sit and listen to his story, exchanging glances that said: how lucky we are to have been born here. How fortunate we are to be able to moan about a broken Nintendo DS, a delayed train or a slow broadband connection. And how blessed we are to have James here in Nowich, inspiring us with his honesty, ambition and courage.
