“So this is Alex from the University, and he’s here to talk to you about a very special opportunity!” Explains a starry-eyed Natalie, ushering me before a group of twenty expectant souls, young and old, smiling and scared, whispering in every imaginable language something that must have been along the lines of, “Look! It’s the sage on the stage!”
Cheltenham Welcomes Refugees Drop-in Centre Logo
It’s Monday morning and I really have no idea what I’m doing here at the Quaker’s Meeting House in Cheltenham beyond offering some kind of support to the local Refugee Welcome group on behalf of the – my current employer. Charlotte, my ever-enthusiastic colleague / ninja sidekick, was unable to come today and she has been most closely in contact with Natalie, the group’s chief co-ordinator. Dr. Alex Masardo, my even-more-infectiously-enthusiastic supervisor, has been encouraging both of us to connect with this group on the rather generous understanding that the University would be happy for us to offer our time as ESOL tutors on-the-clock. In truth, there is an additional boon to linking with the local refugee welcome group as we currently have cohorts of trainee teachers aching to try their hand at ESOL with not a suitable class of students in sight. While it remains to be decided where and when such classes could take place, there appears to be no shortage of classrooms on our Park and Francis Close campuses. What better way to offer a warm welcome and sense of belonging than an invitation to ‘Hogwarts’ as Francis Close Hall is affectionately known to our students!
The Spectacular Central Quad of Francis Close Hall Campus
I am fully aware of the magnificent achievements of partnerships between universities and refugee welcome groups in other parts of the country – particularly English for Action, who have been working closely with King’s College London to deliver transformative training to migrants of various backgrounds, while developing innovative participatory pedagogies and a particularly robust Community of Practice. Against a backdrop of a decade of the Conservative Party’s ‘hostile environment policy’, these endeavours represent a lifeline by offering increasingly marginalised migrant communities some semblance of stability and the prospect of integration.
As a University of Sanctuary, University of Gloucestershire not only hopes to offer classes to locally based asylum seekers, but also offer support to academics or students at risk, through the CARA Programme, and has recently announced a series of full scholarships available to refugees. As I touch on this point, the hurried translations into Arabic, Spanish, and other languages pause.
“Could you repeat?” Smiles Mohammed.
“Yes, of course. There are opportunities to study with a full scholarship at the university.” I reply.
By this point, perhaps some attendees have heard enough of my impromptu lecture, while others are now brimming with questions: “When are the classes?” “Can you help me get my IELTS?” “Are my qualifications sufficient for a scholarship?” “Can anyone attend English classes?”
A brief moment of chaos ensues as we try to negotiate a time for the class, attempt a half-hearted vote, and finally settle on replacing the current ESOL classes offered at 12pm on a Monday with “something more professional”. I wonder whether I’m setting myself up for a fall! I explain that Charlotte is also keen to offer a class and begin to chat to a series of excited young men with quite a range of questions.
As I do so, Camille, whose theatre workshop was interrupted by my arrival, patiently stands and starts to smile. She picks up where she left off with a modified version of an old favourite ‘Zip-Zap-Boing’. Within minutes, everyone is in hysterics. A man from Honduras introduces himself as the Queen, only to suddenly offer a surprisingly British apology on realising it might not be the most appropriate timing. Camille passes round some cards with pictures of furniture on them and invites everyone to mime their word to see if the others can guess. Once this is all over and the guffaws have subsided, Camille creates a situation: you are about to rent a room or apartment, but you want to make sure it has all of the furniture you will need. Camille is a particularly amiable landlady, but nevertheless, there is a slight shift in mood as we begin to enter the realms of realworld problems. The game plays out and attendees jump up and head out to enjoy the beaming sunshine and have a go at fixing up a bike. I chat to Camille, who reveals she is currently training to be an ESOL teacher, alongside her work at the local Everyman Theatre. I reveal that I previously worked as a drama teacher and even collaborated on a book about using theatre for ESOL (which you can download in PDF here).
By the time we’re done, I’ve unfortunately missed Paddy’s English class. “You didn’t miss too much – I wouldn’t worry!” He assures me. Paddy has only recently retired and seems a little unnerved by my presence as a “professional”. Perhaps it was for the best that I wasn’t able to sit in on his class! We talk about the difficulties of teaching a mixed-level class, the possibility of encouraging some of the stronger students to act as teachers or assistants, and the benefits of addressing emergent language from the theatre class.
It’s now 1pm, and everyone is long gone. I’m surprised at the sheer pace of the drop-in, which is only open for a two-hour period. On my way out, Paddy and Maggie chat with me about the apparently low turnout today. “Since the cutbacks in funds for asylum seekers, they are now only given £8 a week to get by on. The bus from their ‘hotel’ out in the suburbs alone costs £4.” My heart goes out to those poor individuals for whom today’s drop-in has perhaps been the most costly outing of the week. Conversation turns to the most recent promises of the latest anti-immigrant Home Secretary to pack refugees off to Rwanda. Things have gotten so much worse since my last involvement with refugee rights groups almost a decade ago: waiting times to hear back on asylum acceptance now take up to ten years in some cases. “Imagine what that does to your mental health!” Balks Maggie. Paddy, who has until now been looking away absent-mindedly, turns back at these words suddenly.
“It’s a massive mental health boost!” He enthuses, then pauses and explains apologetically. “For me, I mean! There is so much wrong with the world today. Coming down to the Friends’ Meeting House and sharing a joke and a cup of tea with some of these folks – sometimes, I think it’s the only thing that keeps me sane!”