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waybeyondblue's review
challenging
emotional
informative
reflective
sad
fast-paced
4.25
Content Warnings
Graphic: Racial slurs, Racism, and Cultural appropriation
Moderate: Police brutality and Hate crime
Minor: Slavery and Mental illness
beca_reads's review against another edition
informative
reflective
medium-paced
4.75
This was a great collection of essay's from different people of colour; from actors to activists. The essays where personal and explored the different ways that each individual had experienced racism and oppression within the UK. This book covered some topics such as casteism and orientalism that I was not taught at school; I found these essays incredibly informative and have led me to do further research, to broaden my own understanding. This is definitely a book I will come back to, time and time again, and will recommend to a lot of people.
Content Warnings
Graphic: Colonisation, Cultural appropriation, Islamophobia, Police brutality, and Racism
foxonabook's review against another edition
challenging
emotional
informative
inspiring
reflective
fast-paced
5.0
I'm finally catching up with copying over all of my handwritten reviews 😅 This is a book that I regularly find myself thinking of because of how much it resonated with me, and it's become one of the books that I will recommend to everyone (and it actually is on my work team's recommended reading list! 😄).
The Good Immigrant is a collection of essays written by authors from an immigrant or ethnic minority background. The essays address issues of race, immigration, and 'otherness', and it is a pivotal read for anyone looking to understand the personal and universal experiences of those in the UK (and elsewhere) who are regularly 'othered'. The UK (and other nations) is often portrayed to be this multicultural melting pot when modern-day politics and studies show that this isn't exactly the case. Black, Asian, and ethnic minority groups are much more likely to live in poverty and are disproportionately more affected by health disparities (something that the pandemic made perfectly clear). There's also this unspoken agreement that immigrants and those of ethnic minority descent are either welcomed or shunned depending on their success. All anyone has to do is look at how athletes or cultural personalities are honoured or disparaged based on their results -they're either UK-born or 'so-and-so of such-and-such ethnic descent'. As the daughter of immigrants (my parents migrated to Belgium before I was born) and as an immigrant myself (having immigrated to the UK in my early 20s) I saw a lot of my family's experiences in this book.
Shukla's essay <i>'Namaste'</i> where he talks about being splintered into personas perfectly described my experience, having curated a different version of myself depending on the setting and company. This often left me wondering 'who really am I?'.
Then there's Miss L's essay wherein she shares a piece of dialogue many of us from an ethnic minority background are familiar with... the dreaded <i>'Where are you from?'</i> question. This often comes up because we don't look Belgian/British/white enough. In case you're wondering, my answer always starts with 'It's a long and complicated story'.
And I cannot forget about Chimene Suleyman's essay <i>'My Name is My Name'</i> about the Anglicisation of 'foreign' or 'difficult' to pronounce names -much like my own name. Fun fact, depending on who I am talking to -Arabic speakers vs non-Arabic speakers- I go by two different pronunciations of my name (even though the Arabic pronunciation isn't that hard), something my parents started doing when they enrolled me in daycare because they were worried people would otherwise struggle (can you imagine the identity crises my younger self endured?). And, the sad thing is, I know that my family isn't alone in adapting our names for the comfort of others.
This book shone a light on so many of my own experiences as a first-generation Belgian and an immigrant to the UK, and it educated me on many more experiences that my euro-centric features and lighter skin have shielded me from. It was an emotional, thought-provoking, and enlightening journey.
If there's only one book I could recommend to people for the rest of my life, this would probably be it.
The Good Immigrant is a collection of essays written by authors from an immigrant or ethnic minority background. The essays address issues of race, immigration, and 'otherness', and it is a pivotal read for anyone looking to understand the personal and universal experiences of those in the UK (and elsewhere) who are regularly 'othered'. The UK (and other nations) is often portrayed to be this multicultural melting pot when modern-day politics and studies show that this isn't exactly the case. Black, Asian, and ethnic minority groups are much more likely to live in poverty and are disproportionately more affected by health disparities (something that the pandemic made perfectly clear). There's also this unspoken agreement that immigrants and those of ethnic minority descent are either welcomed or shunned depending on their success. All anyone has to do is look at how athletes or cultural personalities are honoured or disparaged based on their results -they're either UK-born or 'so-and-so of such-and-such ethnic descent'. As the daughter of immigrants (my parents migrated to Belgium before I was born) and as an immigrant myself (having immigrated to the UK in my early 20s) I saw a lot of my family's experiences in this book.
Shukla's essay <i>'Namaste'</i> where he talks about being splintered into personas perfectly described my experience, having curated a different version of myself depending on the setting and company. This often left me wondering 'who really am I?'.
Then there's Miss L's essay wherein she shares a piece of dialogue many of us from an ethnic minority background are familiar with... the dreaded <i>'Where are you from?'</i> question. This often comes up because we don't look Belgian/British/white enough. In case you're wondering, my answer always starts with 'It's a long and complicated story'.
And I cannot forget about Chimene Suleyman's essay <i>'My Name is My Name'</i> about the Anglicisation of 'foreign' or 'difficult' to pronounce names -much like my own name. Fun fact, depending on who I am talking to -Arabic speakers vs non-Arabic speakers- I go by two different pronunciations of my name (even though the Arabic pronunciation isn't that hard), something my parents started doing when they enrolled me in daycare because they were worried people would otherwise struggle (can you imagine the identity crises my younger self endured?). And, the sad thing is, I know that my family isn't alone in adapting our names for the comfort of others.
This book shone a light on so many of my own experiences as a first-generation Belgian and an immigrant to the UK, and it educated me on many more experiences that my euro-centric features and lighter skin have shielded me from. It was an emotional, thought-provoking, and enlightening journey.
If there's only one book I could recommend to people for the rest of my life, this would probably be it.
Content Warnings
Graphic: Xenophobia, Racism, Racial slurs, Police brutality, Islamophobia, and Colonisation
Moderate: Cultural appropriation
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