Ian Renwick

Just what should I say to Kevin? Part One

A nice young man, in his thirties, Kevin was on our plane. He's the MD of his own business which is why he was flying Ryanair.

We got chatting. About work. Airlines. The referendum. And Muslims.

I don't think he'd ever met anyone who confessed to being a socialist. Let alone someone who had leafleted for Sadiq. More, at some point about him. Let's go back to Kevin.

I think he's very scared about Muslims.

I don't yet know quite why but he did seem to think that they were out with begging bowls.

We did say that we have Chinese agnostics, Indian Hindus, South Americans, Welsh bolsheviks and vegans and Muslims in our family and some Christian people, too. Oh and at least one Humanist.

It was explained that in our part of London we all seemed to get along just fine.

But Kevin is a catastrophist. There was to be an almighty war.

He wondered what his grandmother would think. About Them. You know, reader, I should have told him about my mother who delighted in cooking halal food for one of my kids, and for everyone else. She wasn't a muslim, even with a small m. But she was the grandmother of a muslim lad. She'd grown up in a very multi-cultural part of London. Her cooking for the Vegan and for the Muslim demonstrated that the old are often much more broad minded than we are given credit for.

So, I have a mission to explain to Kevin, whose business card I have, that he is wrong.

Step One

The people of Tenerife don't allow mosques. I'm afraid Kevin is wrong. http://www.tenerife-information-centre.com/worship-in-tenerife.html

What do you think I should tell Kevin?


Migrant Family, a post from last year but still relevant

We're a family of migrants.

Two of my three children, two of whom have families of their own, live and work overseas. The third has returned from Berlin but may well base himself overseas in the future.

I'm uncomfortable about how we consider visitors who work here as immigrants.

I don't think of my family as migrants. I really hope that the residents of countries where they live and work treat them with respect and value the contribution they make to the local economy.

I hope they don't get angry if they hear my kids speaking in a foreign accent or language......I really hope, too, that they won't feel swamped by my kids.

Some of my family will no doubt return to the UK, others will stay in the countries where they currently live.

In fact, just like the people from overseas who are helping us rebuild our shattered economy.



When I was a migrant

In 1992, my late wife and I packed up our belongings into a truck and a van and drove away with our kids. Away from the small friendly state where we had lived for 10 years.

We had lived in her home country, in her home town.

A vicious recession had destroyed our competitors, then it consumed us. We went to where our prospects looked better.

Saying goodbye to family members was awful. All the neighbours helped us pack and saw us off.

Was it worth it? I really don't know.

Getting the business established turned out to be much harder than expected. 

The kids were accepted quickly in what has turned out to be a wonderful multi racial and tolerant community.

Me, I'm English. The friendly country we left is Wales. I was a migrant there and our family became migrants in London.

I never forget.


Bloody Migrants

In a few minutes time, I hope to see my granddaughter, who was born in the Middle East, when she arrives in London. I haven't met her before.

My son was born in Cardiff and my daughter in law is Somali. They are migrants from the UK.

Only a few weeks ago I visited my daughter in Australia, where she is a migrant. My brother joined us. He lives in New Zealand, a migrant.

It's tough being so far away from them. And can be tough on them, too. Bloody migrants, eh?