The challenge for international social workers

I’ve worked alongside many international social workers and each brings a rich story of their journey, their home, their reason for coming here. We may have many differences… our language, our culture, the colour of our skin… but we also have many similarities and shared experiences from our journey.

I was laughing with a colleague at the memory of having to take piles of paperwork to Croydon years ago to apply for indefinite leave to remain. With my 6 years worth of bank statements, payslips and proof of what felt like every part of my life in hand, I headed into Lunar House in Croydon with my application for ILR. I remember feeling anxious, like somehow I had forgotten a month and my application would be rejected.

As I walked up to the window to share the massive stack of papers and my application, the immigration officer quickly flicked through them and said ok. Before I could feel a sense of relief, I asked “is that it?” Expressionlessly, he looked up at me and said nothing. It felt like a stale mate, with both of us just staring at each other. His lack of response clearly indicated that indeed, that was it.

I came across the file of all the paperwork a few weeks ago and although I knew I didn’t need it anymore, getting rid of it felt odd. I still have a weird sense that even with ILR I’ll need years of statements or ‘proof’ that I should be here, that at any moment someone will demand the proof and I’ll be left vulnerable. It’s interesting, the things that stay with you. For me it has been a nagging feeling every once in a while that I don’t belong and that someone will find out and send me packing.

It took me a while after I moved to feel like I belonged and was connected to others. Part of what kept me connected was hearing others’ stories, working alongside other international social workers and feeling a sense of shared understanding when I spoke about my feelings of what home means to me. I distinctly remember the feeling I had when I started calling the UK home. What did that mean about my ‘real home’ as I kept calling it? Was I any less American? Could I call two places home and have a love for both? There was comfort in others sharing the same feeling of uncertainty in finding a sense of belonging in the UK.

I’ve had the privilege of so many conversations with people who’ve moved from their home country to the UK, through different routes, at different ages, with a different plan in mind. Despite our differences, there’s so much that connects us.

For international social workers, the career path can be and feel different. I felt stuck for a number of years because I was here on a sponsored visa which prevented me from thinking about a different career path.

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