Life in the UK Tried and Tested
Imagine that you have lived in the UK for years on temporary visas that you have paid increasing amounts of money for. It is time to apply for Indefinite leave to remain, the status that allows you to reside in the country permanently. You realise that taking the Life in the UK Test is a requirement, even though you are not applying for citizenship. Annoyance soon morphs into resentment as you pay £24.99 for review books and note the £50.00 cost of the test on top of the thousands of pounds for the visa application. Once delivered, you stare at the main book’s cover; red and blue letters on a white background reading: Life in the United Kingdom: A Guide for New Residents. You think of the many years you’ve already lived here. Your stomach heats up. You cannot bring yourself to open it.
The next week is spent riding waves of comparable emotions while having conversations with citizens who invite you to pints and laugh at the absurdity of the whole thing. You finally accept your fate. It is an acceptance akin to living within the London rental market. You watch extortionate amounts of money leave your bank account monthly as you sit in the tiny room of the house you share with five adults. You ask yourself: ‘Do I want to live anywhere else?’ If the answer is no, then acceptance is key, especially if you are not a permanent resident; rocking the boat is unwise when you can be deported for it. You decide to cheer up and activate your studious side. ‘Hey, maybe I’ll learn some interesting stuff,’ you say to yourself.
The text book is divided into five chapters that cover UK values, geographic makeup, history, modern society, government, law, and the role of its citizens. You learn that one of the UK’s fundamental principles is tolerance. The images of recent riots flash through your mind. You shake it off. You remember how you recently boarded a taxi in which the driver told your colleague that immigrants come to the UK exclusively to live off benefits. You turn the page.
You learn that:
- Britain was separated from the continent 10,000 years ago
- Henry had many wives (thank God there is a mantra to memorise their divorce or demise)
- The Union Flag is the combination of three flags
- Margaret Thatcher was the longest serving Prime Minister of the 20th Century
- The UK has produced inventors, sportspeople, musicians, designers and you should know most of their names
- Courts work and are called different things in different parts of the country
- You should mix with the community by getting to know your neighbours…
You take a practice test and fail every question that involves learning a precise date, specific names of people mentioned in different contexts in the book, or weird phrasing which makes you choose ‘True’ when you knew it was false. You go back and review. You hope you pass this thing with the 75% it requires and can swiftly put it behind you.
*
The Life in the UK test was introduced in 2005 as a response to concerns around immigrant communities’ lack of integration into British society. Riots in the north of England in the summer of 2001, in combination with other examples of division, were, no doubt, a part of what brought these concerns to light. Almost twenty years after the test’s introduction, we have witnessed similar riots. It seems tests are not enough to integrate people into any society. However, exams of this nature are used in the United States, Canada, Denmark, Germany and Switzerland, among others. So, what is their purpose? What do they prove?
The UK’s test has been widely criticised and often compared to a pub quiz, but some of its content is valuable. It is useful to know how courts function, your fundamental rights, and what services are available to you as a resident. This is, however, the textbook’s shortest section. Prior to this, most of its pages are spent in summarising the UK’s past in positive little snippets. I am no expert on UK history, but I imagine the things that are left out might be more interesting than those put in. It paints a picture of modern Britain as a tolerant and open society, ignoring the fact that a lot of the population view immigrants as a threat. It asks immigrants to meet their neighbours, volunteer and get involved in their local communities, which is easier said than done if that community views you with fear. After weeks of studying, I wonder if those who take the test view this place differently. I wonder if they feel closer and more part of this country after it.
Maybe the test is more for ‘concerned citizens’ than aspiring residents. It’s there to calm people who look a foreigner in the eye and say: ‘It isn’t you I’m talking about. It’s the ones coming here to …’ followed by accusations I will not repeat here. Maybe, having a test as a requirement sends a message that those who pass have somehow been vetted; that these exam-passing immigrants have earned their stripes and are more likely to ‘integrate’. However, the more people I speak to, the more I realise that unless Brits have immigrant friends, colleagues, or acquaintances, they have no idea of the costs and processes in place to control who does and who doesn’t belong. There were many things that surprised and alienated me when I moved to the UK, even as a fluent English speaker who thought they’d been in touch with a lot of British culture before moving here. It must be even harder to integrate if you come from further afield. What does integration look like, anyway?
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I recently went to the small, alternative ‘Line Up’ music festival in Malvern. It was held over two days in a community centre, complete with a cow pasture next door, scenic paths nearby, and two food stalls: one serving curries, the other sloppy joes and hot dogs. I was the only Latin American in a room filled to the brim. I sat listening to headliner Richard Dawson, a singer-songwriter from Newcastle whose life, it’s fair to say, has been very different from mine. He stood on stage alone, guitar in hand. He spoke about writing songs that captured the lives of people around him. He sang about a soldier overwhelmed by fear on the battlefield, about an ex-counsellor taking up jogging to cope with anxiety, and about a young boy playing football with his father watching from the sidelines. I smiled, laughed, and was then brought to tears by the repeated refrain of his song We Picked Apples in a Graveyard Freshly Mowed: ‘Hold me, hold me, and never let me go … Hold me.’
It dawned on me later, as I sipped a pint, that the years in this country have made my connection with this music possible. Growing up in the Spanish-speaking Caribbean, the last thing I imagined when I moved to London was listening to indie music and drinking beer, I had far more regal endeavours in mind. But I wouldn’t change my life here for the world. I have been lucky to meet enough people who have had patience with me, who have explained sports, references, jokes, politics, and more. I have willingly listened because we all hunger for acceptance, particularly those of us who have decided to reinvent their notion of home. Maybe integration is a two-way street, where those who belong from birth and those who hope to belong hold each other along the way. I know this is easier said than done, but if we don’t aspire to it, what are we left with? I hope this place is better because there are people like me living in it. But, hey, I haven’t even passed my Life in the UK test yet, so what do I know?