COLUMN : to myself and all other immigrants

tomorrow i’m becoming an immigrant again.

luckily for me, it’s difficult to tell a swede from a german by looks alone, so i’m going to blend in fairly well. if my years in london are anything to go by, i won’t be that discriminated at all. even to those who know that i’m a foreigner, my swedishness will probably most often not be considered a bad thing.

germany will take me in, make me feel at home, let me stay as long as i want. get a job if i want. get married and have kids if that was my wish. study. pay taxes. walk down the street like any other person.

i wish that my story was everyone else’s too.
that we all could live, love, work, dream, dance wherever we wanted.

it feels like the world is getting colder. especially up here in northern europe the winds are growing icy. id checks. border controls. talking in numbers and figures, instead of in stories and faces.

saying that some people do not belong. have no right. should be stopped.

and i don’t mean people like me. happy immigrants moving for the pure joy of it. i’m talking about people fleeing their situation, in fear of death or torture.

for some reason, someone somewhere decided that i’m more entitled to move somewhere out of lust, than someone else out of threat. who ever came to that conclusion ?

i didn’t decide to be born in sweden. it wasn’t an accomplishment of mine that took hard work and dedication. it was just chance. and because of my luck, i’m entitled to a completely different life than someone born in syria.

i live when someone else dies. all the time.

here’s what i say. open the borders. it’s the only way.

love and compassion // jenny

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