Her name is Ansa.
She is one of many.
Her hair is as blonde as it gets. Her eyes are blue, narrow. Her posture is self assured. She jabs at being friendly.
For the past ten years, she has been a part of the creme de la creme of England.
She is a hard working woman. She has “read” at Oxford, now works at Cambridge.
When I asked her about belonging she said:
“Until Brexit, I thought I was a part of this country. I thought I belonged here you know? But with everything so slippery now, with all those votes, I see that I don’t. Perhaps, without knowing, I never did.”
On 22nd of June, Theresa May said some three million European citizens may continue to reside in England, exercising the same rights as Britons.
This may have handed some practical rights back to EU citizens, but what of dignity?
Ansa is an educated girl, sitting on top of the racial hierarchy, much much much whiter than a great many, easily accepted by society.
(Do not say “What does that have to do with anything?” We both know it has a lot to do with everything.)
What of the others? The less privileged, the bartenders, the cleaners, the security guards?
How do you undo the knowledge that half the population is at ease with your absence?
How do you give back acceptance to three million individuals?
How do you undo the loss of belonging?
This is Brexit’s damage in the underlining.