There’s a reason the phrase ‘island of strangers’ feels so poignant. Immigration is not a crisis to be controlled but a lens through which we see the kind of society we are shaping. At its core, this is a question of social and economic values: who benefits, who is welcomed, and whose lives are counted. Yet too often, the debate is reduced to numbers—a narrative that flattens lived experience and obscures both structural injustice and human contribution.
Net migration¹ may have quadrupled from 224,000 in 2019 to over 900,000 by 2023. But what does that tell us about who we are – or who we want to be? When “control” becomes a euphemism for exclusion, it’s not just newcomers who suffer. Long-settled communities, people of colour, and even second-generation citizens feel the chill. As one Community Voices contributor put it:
“I thought we had left the racism of the 80s behind. But now I have to tell my children not to go out with their friends. That fear is back.”
During the COVID-19 pandemic, many families from minoritised communities faced deep pain when unable to conduct vital end-of-life rituals due to lockdown rules. Loved ones were often buried without the usual cultural or religious ceremonies, compounding grief and leaving lasting emotional scars.
When policies are framed in the language of fairness, we must always ask – fair to whom? A reduction of 100,000 migrant care workers might ease political tension, but what of the care crisis already gripping our hospitals and homes? Who will speak for the carers, the cleaners, the students propping up whole local economies, the elders isolated by cuts to the very services meant to support them?
This blog is an invitation to rethink what “belonging” means. To move from a system-led, risk-averse dialogue to one deeply rooted in the reality – and messiness – of people’s lives and livelihoods. To build safe spaces where stories are heard without fear, and where the idea that communities should be at the forefront in framing the challenges and the solutions isn’t just welcomed – it’s prioritised.
We already know what works:
- Intercultural / interfaith / intergenerational conversations that restore pride and connection
- Trauma-informed care that addresses collective pain
- Media literacy and civic leadership that tackle misinformation and hate
- Neighbourhood spaces that bring joy, solidarity, and meaning
Belonging cannot be legislated. But it can be built – if we listen, if we honour, if we share power.
Let’s stop asking who belongs. And start asking – how can we make everyone feel safe enough to connect with those who stay?
About Community Voices
Community Voices is more than a group—it’s a way of working. Born out of frustration, particularly during the pandemic, it became a space for people from minoritised communities, health and care sectors, and local organisations to listen to each other, to tell the truth about what was happening, and to respond together.
We believe in the power of lived experience to shape policy, and in building trust through storytelling, respect, and shared action. Our work is rooted in everyday conversations, local insight, and the belief that real change begins with those closest to the challenges.
What we’re seeing now isn’t just a policy shift, it’s a story being told about who belongs. The dominant narrative around immigration paints people as problems to be managed, rather than neighbours, co-workers, carers, and friends.
We need a counter-narrative—one that challenges the idea that fairness means exclusion, and instead celebrates mutual care, contribution, and community. But more than that, we need a new narrative altogether. One that isn’t framed by crisis or control, but by the everyday hopes people have: to be safe, to be seen, and to shape the places they live in.
That story can’t be written without communities themselves at the centre.