The return to the "motherland"
A trip back to the UK comprised of nostalgia, laughter, memories, and a new perspective on my identity. And the realization of Britain's prevalent colonialist mindset.
I recently took a trip back to the UK - the place I’ve always considered my home after spending a majority of my life living in the small and quaint town of Tunbridge Wells. It’s where I went to school, learned English, built my first friendships, had my first crushes, discovered my interests, goals and desired pathways - it makes up a bulk of who I am today.
It had been my first trip back to the UK in almost six years - I left in 2017, in just the cusp of summer and the end of my first year of A-Levels where I was set to pursue a pathway in fashion business. But green cards are green cards, and I had no choice but to leave my life behind.
If you don’t know anything about my story, me, my parents and two sisters left the UK and moved to a redneck slow town outside Orlando. My father is a registered nurse, and had been wanting to live the American Dream ever since my aunt left the Philippines and moved to New York in the 90s to also become a nurse. He applied for the green card for himself, my mother, and my sisters and I back in the early 2000s and was finally approved some thirteen years later. I lived in Florida for five years, then left the nest to go to New York for college and for my career in media.
The return to the UK after I abruptly left all those years ago was an invigorating and weird experience at the same time. I definitely felt like I was home - I remember walking out the Tunbridge Wells stations, breathing in the cool air of an awakening summer, and realizing where I was, remembering which way to go as if I’ve never left. As I walked through that busy street, watching the 407 bus I used to take to go to work, seeing the students get off school wearing the dull navy Catholic school colours I used to wear, an overwhelming sense of nostalgia rushed over me. I was meeting an old secondary school mate, who was nine months pregnant at the time, and walked into a Costa for coffee and catch-up. Even paying for the coffee with British currency, sorting through my purse for the pennies and cash with Elizabeth’s face (rest in peace) felt so natural. It was invigorating, feeling the small experiences that I was once so familiar with.
It was also a weird experience. Entering my hometown didn’t feel like how it was when I left - the shops weren’t the same, the people weren’t the same, the vibes just weren’t the same. It was almost like trying to remember how to ride a bike on terrain you’ve never been to before. One of the things I couldn’t get over was realizing how central the monarchy is to British culture. It was the week leading up to the coronation when I was staying there and seeing King Charles’s face painted on the streets and his portraits sitting neatly behind shop windows; blue, white, and red - colours of the UK flag - blasting all over.
Brainwashed Briton
In my old apartment (yes, I recently moved - hence the darkness that enveloped The Kultura the past few weeks), I lived with two people from India who often had conversations with me around Britain and India’s history (they often used to poke and tease me at the fact that I’m a British citizen). In one conversation I remember having was how India was once an economically thriving country - it was sought after by colonialists because of their silks, spices, and teas… until the Brits came. According to my roommate, India was once a prosperous country where everyone lived in harmony. It wasn’t until the late 1800s and early 1900s, during the peak of Britain’s Imperial power, did we start to see India’s death toll begin to rise and their economy decline. According to Al Jazeera, in the 40 years within British rule, over 40 million Indian lives were claimed — that’s more than the death toll in the famines that overtook Soviet Union, Maoist China, and even North Korea.
But this side of the history is always covered by the glowing image that British Imperialism helped their colonies with economic development and that British Imperialism was culturally and politically impactful in a good way. Let’s not forget that India once held the biggest diamond in the world before the British stole it and cut it up into pieces to place on the Crown. Let’s not forget that the religious conflicts between Pakistan and India were as a result of Britain’s strategic partition that divided and segregated religious groups as part of a colonial plot. But when I was growing up in the UK, all I remembered learning was the history of the monarchy — from William the Conqueror of Normandy, who was the first King of England, to Queen Elizabeth II.
As I begin to learn more about the history of Britain’s colonies and imperialism, it changed my perspective towards the country that I’ve called home throughout my life — especially since I have so many conversations on and around colonialism and particularly after staying in London for the first time in six years. My roommate used to joke that I was brainwashed into believing that Britain is a great country — it does have its perks and benefits but there’s so much history that has been forgotten or overlooked. At the least, in America there are open conversations about race and the history of slavery — but where are these same conversations amongst the British? And I thought Americans were the most racists.
Aside from the tribulations made, I was genuinely happy to be back and to experience my life in the UK from a different perspective. It definitely helped me become more appreciative of my life, which was something I wasn’t doing when I lived there. It brought back so many memories, envisioning the scenes from little anecdotes I’d share or certain canon events; seeing trains and buses that I’d take to go to work; walking past the shops where I used to walk in with my mother’s oversized blazer (it was an attempt to look professional) handing out my resume; all the places my sisters and my friends used to eat in. It was overwhelmingly nostalgic, but made me sad to see that I never truly saw the beauty in that life when I lived there, as I had wanted to become more than just a small-town suburban girl and pursue something bigger.
I’m hoping that, moving forward when I eventually obtain my dual citizenship, to buy a house someday in London. Perhaps balance my time between the US and UK as, despite all that was written out, I still consider Tunbridge Wells my home.
Next stop in my journey of self-discovery: Philippines…
In other news…
Affirmative action was denied, resulting in a divisive debate due to its implications on educational institutions. What will this mean for students, particularly students of color? More to come.
The Student Loan forgiveness plan was also rejected by Congress. More to come on what this will mean for borrowers with large student debt like me.
Independence Day is amongst us - a celebration of America’s independence and freedom from the British rule.
I also moved! Through apartment hunting, coordinating deliveries, and the actual moving itself, I’ve been radio silent on The Kultura but I’m back with hopefully more quality content :) Thank you to all my readers for bearing with me!