London Hughes on Immigration

Written by: London Hughes
Published: Friday 30th September 2016

Award winning actor, writer and comedian London Hughes is performing along with other stand-ups at the 'We Love Immigration' comedy night at Leicester Square Theatre on the 4th October, which raises money for the Migrant's Rights Network. Here she talks about what it's like being the daughter of an 'immigrant'.

My mum's an immigrant, although I hate the term - it's nowhere near as sexy as the term 'expat' and they essentially mean the same thing! Mumsie (the immigrant) came over here from Jamaica when she was nine, worked hard and eventually had me at 37, subsequently making the world a better place.

But I've never once thought about the huge sacrifice she made for me by coming here, or how scary it must have been to move to a whole new country at a young age and completely change her life. I find it hard just changing network providers!

I don't know how she must have felt moving to cold, Earl Grey England and leaving Jamaica, the home of Lilt, Reggae Reggae sauce and Rastamouse behind. Plus, think about all the friends she had in Jamaica - I mean she was only nine so, granted, some of them were probably imaginary - but to leave that all behind and get on a plane with no clue what you're going to experience on the other side must have been pretty daunting - I reckon she wet the bed for weeks!

My mum said that in Jamaica they would say that England was 'paved with gold', and at nine she probably thought it actually was! It was probably quite a surprise to her when she got off the runway at Gatwick only to realise that the streets were in fact paved with tarmac, dried bubblegum and regret.

My grandma came over to the UK first, and then once she had set up a base and saved enough money she 'sent' for my mum... Which means that the first time my mum ever got on a plane she was scared, alone and leaving her loved ones behind to fly and meet her mother in a cold foreign land. The first time I ever got on a plane I was upset because my headphones didn't work meaning I had to watch The Little Mermaid with no sound! Perspective.

I never think about what was going through my mum's head when she saw her new British home for the first time, coming from Jamaica with their huge houses, bay windows, verandas and acres and acres of land. A two-up-two-down in Brixton must have felt like a cupboard. My mum said that, after seeing how big her house was in Jamaica, she just assumed that the whole road full of grey terraced houses must in fact be one long house for her and her family to live in. She couldn't understand why my grandma would move halfway around the world for a tiny two bed, off street parking and a paved garden.

When it snows, I occasionally think about how my mum felt when she saw snow for the first time. She says she honestly thought someone was grating the moon! It never snows in Jamaica and at first she didn't know how to deal with it, she had no idea why people would jump and play in it, to be honest she still has no idea why people jump and play in it - I mean come on guys it's just frozen water! But for someone who's from a country that boasts a 27-degree heat on a bad day, snow must have been a weird experience, like when you drink orange juice right after brushing your teeth. Just not right.

I often think about how my mum felt as a black woman leaving a country where she was the majority, and ending up in a country where she's the minority. I wonder how that made her feel, did it make her resent the colour of her skin or love it even more? Did she feel like a rare tasty Malteaser in a box of Celebrations, or the random strawberry chocolate ones nobody likes in a box of Roses? I think about the racism she must have experienced, how she felt when saw the signs reading 'No dogs, no blacks, no Irish'. How she felt when her teachers at school referred to her or her kind as 'niggers'.

My mum was a nurse, specialising in looking after the elderly, a lot of whom hated black people and some even refused to let her touch them without gloves on, I wonder how that made her feel? "I'm so sorry Mrs Granger, but I can't change your catheter until you stop calling black people devil monkeys!"

I guess I don't know the answer to most of these questions because my mum never really talks about it, she hasn't let it bother or phase her, she's not bitter and we simply don't talk about how it felt to immigrate to London in the 60s. We talk about the important things like EastEnders and Mary Berry leaving Bake Off.

I did however ask her if it was all worth it, and she said 'absolutely!'

When I think about immigration I think about my mum, how hard she worked to be here and how she made the most of her life and bettered it for herself and her children. I think of most immigrants the same way I think of my mother, which is why I find it hard to find a reason why they should all 'F off back to their own countries!'

I love immigration, so much so that I'll be taking part in the We Love Immigration comedy night at Leicester Square Theatre on the 4th October. Every comic performing is an immigrant or the child of one, it'll be a night filled with culture and laughter and you may even see my mum in the audience.

'We Love Immigration: A Comedy Evening' is at the Leicester Square Theatre on the 4th October 2016. Tickets via See Tickets