York must be a welcome place

YORK has always welcomed those in need, says the Rev Paul Wordsworth. In medieval times, the Minster was a place of sanctuary for those seeking justice.

During the Second World War, the York Refugee Committee found work, housing and school places for dozens of Jewish families fleeing the persecution of the Nazis. And in the 1990s, the city provided temporary refuge in Holgate for Kosovan Albanians fleeing the atrocities of the Balkan wars.

It is a record to be proud of, Mr Wordsworth says. And it is a record York wants to continue, as a ‘City of Sanctuary’ that welcomes those fleeing persecution. “The way we treat the worst off is a sign of the kind of society we are,” he says.

Nevertheless, he recognises the sensitivities. Certain people might see the very term City of Sanctuary as a little pious; others appear concerned about the potential impact of immigration.

Some of those writing letters to The Press have pointed out there are already hundreds of young people here who cannot find work – and who may have to leave York to find a job.

Others express fears that incomers will not be able to integrate into local culture, or even speak English.

But they fail to understand what City of Sanctuary is about, says Mr Wordsworth, the local vicar who has taken on the role of co-ordinating York’s City of Sanctuary bid.

It is not about welcoming more refugees to York, he stresses. It is about offering a better welcome to those already here, and trying to help them integrate better into the city.

York will never become a dispersal centre, expected to take thousands of refugees, he says. The city lacks the empty housing stock of cities such as Sheffield, Glasgow and Hull – and that is not what City of Sanctuary is all about.

But more people from different parts of the world are coming here to live. Latest population projections suggest more than one in ten people living in York today are not “white British”.

Many study or work at one of the city’s two universities, but others came here in fear of their lives, fleeing war or persecution.

York, for example, has a community of Kurdish people who fled persecution in Iraq, Iran and Turkey, and who came to York because they had extended family here, Mr Wordsworth says.

City of Sanctuary is all about welcoming such people and the contribution they can make.

People from different ethnic backgrounds and cultures help make York a richer, more vibrant and interesting city, Mr Wordsworth says.

There is a reason why York was recently named the fifth best city to eat out anywhere in Europe, for example – and it isn’t the quality of the local fish and chips. “It is because of the sheer variety of cuisine we have in the city – Korean, Chinese, Bangladeshi, Pakistani. York is becoming a cosmopolitan city.”

But if we want to make the most of the talents and skills those seeking sanctuary here bring, we have to be open to them and help them find their place, Mr Wordsworth says.

It is vital they don’t become isolated and segregated, he says. Prejudice and distrust grow where there is misunderstanding and segregation. “But the more we meet with people who come from different places, the more we realise how much we have in common with them.”

Which is where City of Sanctuary comes in.

It is NOT a council initiative, Mr Wordsworth stresses. It is a grassroots movement, albeit one supported by the city council, which aims to bring together voluntary groups, charities, faith groups and other organisations who can help make it easier for those arriving new to the city – people who may not speak the language, who may be bewildered and lost and not know where to turn for help – to find their feet.

It will aim to ‘signpost’ them in the direction of support or friendship: by providing language training, or translators; by introducing children to local sports clubs where they can get involved; by welcoming them to local churches. Sometimes it might involve local groups or even businesses putting a “City of sanctuary” sign on the door. “And then they will know that there is somebody inside who will welcome them.”

* JACK Mapanje and his family first came to live in York 20 years ago.

The poet had just spent “three years, seven months, 16 days and more than 12 hours” as a political prisoner in a grim jail in his native Malawi. He had done something to upset Malawi’s then ‘President for Life’ Hastings Banda. It has never been clear exactly what, but it was probably a poem he had written that was interpreted as critical of the regime.

He was flung into prison without charge, and spent most of the next four years in a communal cell for political prisoners that could ‘sleep’ up to 45. There were no beds: just sleeping spaces five feet long and a foot wide outlined in cold white paint on the cement floor.

Outside the confines of the prison, as his wife Mercy and three young children, Judith, Lund and Lika, struggled by without him, an international campaign began to free the young poet.

Eventually, it paid off. Jack was released – although even on his last day when a prison guard came to collect him, he feared he was being led to his death, rather than to freedom.

Once out of prison, he found himself still ostracised by the University of Malawi, where he had once been Head of English. And, while Banda had bowed to international pressure, there was no reason to suppose he had forgiven or forgotten Jack. The poet still feared for his life.

Then came an offer of a visiting scholarship at the University of York. It seemed the ideal way out for him and his family.

In 1991, they arrived effectively as refugees in a strange city where they knew almost no one.

A poem Jack wrote several years ago describes the reception they got when they moved into a rented house in Tang Hall: “The children welcomed us by stealing Glances at us, sniggering over the hedge, Milling about the front door hedge after school, Spitting loudly, monkey-faking without ambiguity Until some started throwing eggs at our windows, Sometimes writing ‘F*** OFF’ on the windscreen Of the car we had bought near the scrapyard.”

It wasn’t the welcome they had been hoping for. They used humour to try to deflect some of the hurt. “The children were saying, ‘Why don’t they give us the eggs so we can eat them?’” Jack says.

But it was still painful. Because they were one of the first black families to live in York, even something as simple as a visit to the city centre attracted odd looks.

“We went into the city once and there was a family looking at us, and the child saying to the mother, ‘Mum, why is he black?’” Jack recalls. “We stuck out. It was extremely uncomfortable.”

He and his family were different, he says – and people in York didn’t quite know how to react to them. Gradually, things improved.

They knew a couple of people in York – including Landeg White, director of the Centre for Southern African Studies at the University of York, who had been a leading figure in the international campaign to get Jack freed.

Slowly, they began to develop other friendships.

There was the elderly woman who lived in the house next door. When the children’s ball would end up in her garden, she’d bring it back, and say “How are you?,” Jack says. “And then she discovered I was a poet. She was delighted, and said ‘I will come and buy your poems’.”

The children began to make friends at All Saints School and the family joined the congregation of St Aelred’s Church. “There was a community, and that cheered us up. We thought ‘not everybody dislikes us’.”

Eventually, even the harassment stopped, thanks to a local policeman who saw some of the neighbourhood children spitting, and throwing sand and eggs. “He ran after them, and went to their homes,” Jack says.

All this was 20 years ago. The family still lives in York. The children have grown up – as have the neighbourhood children who used to torment them, some of whom went on to become friends. Jack, who has worked as a guest lecturer at a number of UK universities, remains grateful to the city which took him and his family in.

Nevertheless, the memory of that initial struggle for acceptance remains. That is why he welcomes the City of Sanctuary initiative. For families seeking refuge in York today it offers a real chance of breaking down the kind of barriers that made life so hard for him and his family at first, he says.

Many will desperately want to know about the British way of life, he believes.

The danger is that, without help, they will feel unable to break through the barriers of language and culture that separate them from local York people.

“Making them feel welcome is better than allowing them to isolate themselves, and to build little pools of people,” he says.

If they were properly welcomed, new groups coming to York could hugely add to the city’s cultural life, he says. There could be wonderful fusion events, for example, where people of all different ethnic backgrounds – including local York people – come together to share their music, and their food, and their literature, and to learn about each other and their ways of life.

Above all, York is a city with a proud history of looking out for the disadvantaged, he points out – just look at the Rowntrees.

“So I support this movement all the way. It is absolutely in that spirit.”

York’s ethnic breakdown

• York’s population today is just over 200,000

• 11.4 per cent of the city’s people are now not ‘white British’

• 3.4 per cent are Asian or Asian British; 1.2 per cent are Black or Black British; 1.4 per cent are Chinese

• The York wards with the highest proportion of residents from an ethnic minority are Heslington, Guildhall and Fishergate.

Grassroots push

THE non-political City of Sanctuary movement began in Sheffield in 2005. There are now 14 other sanctuary initiatives in towns and cities across the UK. They are not government or council initiatives, but grassroots movements led by local people and community groups who want to provide safety and welcome for people whose lives are in danger in their own country. York hopes to achieve recognition by next year.

To find out more visit cityofsanctuary.org