An Island of Strangers? Reflections on Immigration, Identity, and Belonging

Source: shepherdsbushmarket.org

In the first of our series on migration, KNST Collective Co-Founder, Nastasia Virvilis reflects on immigration, identity, and belonging in the UK and Canada. We are looking for art, stories and much more as a push to engage with UK policymakers and civil society on the importance of migrant communities in the UK. Want to contribute? Send your submissions or questions you may have to heyknst@knst-collective.com.

In a speech delivered on May 12, Prime Minister Keir Starmer made troubling remarks regarding immigration in the UK. Warning of the risks posed by a lack of stricter immigration controls, he claimed that without reform, Britain could become “an island of strangers.” The backlash has been swift and widespread, with many criticizing his comments as divisive and reminiscent of historic exclusionary rhetoric in British politics.

Just weeks prior, Starmer praised Canada, calling it one of the UK’s “closest allies.” As someone born and raised in Canada–specifically in Vancouver, one of the most ethnically diverse cities in North America–those two narratives feel deeply contradictory.

What I love most about Canada is that it is, at its core, a country built by immigrants. It has served as a safe haven for countless communities seeking refuge, opportunity, and a better life. Growing up in Vancouver’s Greek community, I came to understand just how vital culture and community are to one's identity. Though I was raised in Canada, my Greek heritage has always been central to my life. All four of my grandparents immigrated from Greece to Canada in the 1950s and 60s, bringing with them their language, customs, and resilience.

My grandmother often tells me how difficult those early years were. She didn’t speak the language. She moved not out of luxury but necessity–fleeing economic hardship and seeking stability. Edmonton, where they first settled, was not the warmest welcome, especially when it came to food. She recalls having to substitute mazola oil for olive oil–a true sacrilege for any Mediterranean cook. Feta cheese was nearly impossible to find. These may seem like small details, but for immigrants, food is often a lifeline to home, a form of comfort and cultural continuity.

It’s ironic that in a country now debating whether it has become “an island of strangers,” some of the most beloved and widely consumed traditions are born from immigration. Britain’s national dish isn’t roast beef or fish and chips--but chicken tikka masala. That fact alone speaks volumes about how deeply immigrant communities have shaped the cultural fabric of the UK.

When I moved to London, I, like many, was most drawn by its reputation for diversity and cultural richness. I lived in Shepherd’s Bush, a neighbourhood that embodies the global character of the city. It’s a place where more than half the population is foreign-born, with communities from the EU, Africa, the Middle East, Asia, the Americas, and the Caribbean. In Shepherd’s Bush, 28% of residents identify with a non-UK national identity, and in 21% of households, no adult speaks English as a first language.

Despite what some politicians might claim, this diversity isn’t a threat–it’s a gift. It was in this neighbourhood that I found feta cheese from Greece, baklava, and kalamata olives that reminded me of my grandmother’s table. The shopkeepers knew me by name, shared stories with me about their lives back home, and offered me small gestures of kindness–a piece of baklava, a gift of a Turkish coffee pot when I mentioned I was looking for a briki to make Greek coffee. These small acts made London feel like home.

It is this lived experience–of finding belonging across borders and cultures–that makes it hard for me to reconcile with Starmer’s statement. Diversity doesn’t make a country an “island of strangers.” It makes it a mosaic of stories, flavours, languages, and shared human experiences. Whether in Canada or London, it’s the immigrant communities that often breathe life into cities, build businesses, enrich the cultural landscape, and foster connections where none existed before.

My grandparents didn’t come to Canada to make it unfamiliar; they came to contribute, to live, to share. And like millions of others across the UK, they–and the generations that follow–deserve to be seen not as strangers, but as fellow citizens building a shared future.