Sarah Roos
— I think that the concept of home is tied to a feeling of belonging. I’m not sure if it was growing up in Johannesburg, not quite fitting in with the white South Africa I was born into but also having very little to with my very Middle Eastern father and his family in Israel despite my very un-South African looking face and experiences growing up. The truth is that I hung my hopes on greener grass in the UK because my world felt small. I love The Beatles, I love theatre and adolescent me believed the magic from Love Actually and Bridget Jones could be found in London.
Eight, long, very interesting years later I don’t know if I feel at home; but the pockets of belonging, connection to like-people and the freedom has made it worth difficulty of leaving everything you know behind at the age of 22. Culturally, despite the efforts of the British back in South Africa in the 1900’s there are differences. It might be my ethnic ambiguity that makes most people I meet ask me where I’m from or feel the need to highlight that I’m not from the UK. Even though I am for the most part white or European passing and my first language is English, my accent has been mocked relentlessly, I’ve been told that “everyone should go back to where they came from” in response to the London Bridge terrorist attack and learnt what the slur “Paki” meant because a man shouted it at me while I was walking to work one day. I can’t begin to imagine the experiences of those that look more obviously “foreign”. The side of being an immigrant I really enjoy in the UK is that there are those who celebrate people from unfamiliar places and are genuinely interested in me as a whole person including where I come from and the shared experience with other immigrants and those that also feel that they sit at the crossroads of intersectionality. Here, they band together and start their own communities in a way I haven’t seen before. I love that I presumptuously get spoken to in Spanish, Italian, Persian and even Turkish- claiming someone as your own is a wonderful way to tell me that you know I’m not from here.
I find most people who grew up in the UK miss how accessible more of the world is from here. In just a few hours you can be in another country or a different continent. I take comfort in unfamiliar surroundings, and I relish in being able to move freely and (for the most part in comparison to Johannesburg) safely. This is why I chose Paddington Station as a place I feel most connected to. It was the first station I travelled to after catching a train for the very first time in my life and I love the sense of freedom and independence it gave me. I’ve since moved around the UK several times and will most likely continue to do so, but for now I’m enjoying the Northern warmth of the people in York. The world feels a lot more within my reach. I feel a sense of belonging and permeance in the small things that make me feel connected to the UK and London in particular. I return back to the same places, musicals, exhibits, and the same galleries that I lovingly put on my bucket-list over 10 years ago reminding myself to never take these things for granted when the grass doesn’t seem greener on this side.
My object is a photograph of my Grandmother that has sat next to my bed since she passed away over 20 years ago. My Granny represents…a lot in my life for having been in it for such a short amount of time. But her photograph reminds me of where I’ve come from, how far I’ve come and that no matter where I am, I have an anchor in the strength of the women in my family.
