Faculty of law blogs / UNIVERSITY OF OXFORD

Immigration Detention, The Hidden Costs: 8 – Reflection on “Brain freeze, the Impact of Trauma on Telling Our Stories”

Author(s)

The Unchained Collective

Posted

Time to read

4 Minutes

This guest post is written by a PhD candidate, Dmitri Hui Ken Chong, who took part in a social justice internship programme organised by the Centre for Social Justice Research (CSJR) at Westminster University, in collaboration with AVID - Association of Visitors to Immigration Detainees. The internship concluded with the exhibition “Immigration detention: past, present and future”, which was  held at Westminster University for a week in April 2024.

The Unchained Collective is a group of individuals, some with firsthand experiences of immigration detention and others without, who advocate the transformative power of art to confront the oppressive systems of border violence, and particularly immigration detention. The collective’s driving vision is to end immigration detention for all people, everywhere, recognising it as a violent perpetuation of colonial domination. Most members of the Unchained Collective are based in Britain, where the collective was established in late 2023. This is the seventh post of a themed series called “Immigration Detention - The Hidden Costs” based on the homonym podcast, of which you can listen to the introduction here

 

In this episode, Flower and Derek reflect on the experience of making these podcasts. We hear how the process of claiming asylum and Home Office interviews re-traumatise already traumatised people, how difficult it is to get mental health support when you fear it could lead to having your child taken away, and just how much courage it takes to speak out.  Their final appeal is for unity and the putting aside of colours and borders.

 

Dmitri’s reflection whilst listening to Flower and Derek’s podcast, “Brain freeze, the Impact of Trauma on Telling Our Stories”

 

“This is life and death. This is real. How do I put it across to him or her [about] how I suffered?’ [14:38]

“… Home Office itself, they are the one who traumatise people, and, then, we end up living having that fear because they’d frighten you, and, then, they don’t look at you …” [16:20]

 

In the process of gaining refuge into the country, displaced people have to overcome near insurmountable hardships and traumatising experiences engaging with the Home Office. In reflecting on this episode of the podcast series Immigration Detention: The Hidden Costs, Derek and Flower invite us onto their journeys maintaining calm against fear, uncertainty, and scrutiny. Their stories provide intimate knowledge about immigration detention and the toll on their mental wellbeing. 

Derek and Flower share the fear they experienced while being interrogated by the Home Office, a process which was ‘re-traumatising’, needing to attend interviews unprepared when an officer is ‘equipped’ with questions, taking meticulous notes, and highlighting discrepancies on dates which can get lost when you are in shock. I can’t help but think about this power imbalance. On one side, a person representing the system, from the Home Office, doing a job, asking questions off a list, and then, leaving the interview back to a desk. On the other side, a person fearing for their life, detained in an immigration centre, speaking English as a second language, being expected to talk about past traumas clearly and coherently, and then left to return to a confinement site. This is the system. People arrive in the country. People arrive to these interviews, processed and put into one side confronting the Home Office. 

What happens next? 

What happens when you are being honest, and you tell your story? The uncertainty sinks in. Is this story the Home Office wants to hear so people can be seen as genuine asylum seekers? The stories are real. The pain people feel is real. However, is this the story the Home Office wants to hear and believe? Imagine navigating through language and cultural barriers while an officer watches you, judging. Nothing prepares you to be interrogated. Nothing in Derek and Flower’s past experiences prepared them to speak to a person in authority about themselves and the problems they faced. How can you speak about being sexually assaulted by a family member or that you have suicidal thoughts? As this is happening, imagine also being a mother separated from her child for months, fearing that the child may be taken away, and not knowing when you will be reunited. Flower held this uncertainty. She didn’t know what will happen if she disclosed her mental health struggles. 

What can you do when your life lies in one decision from the Home Office? How will you feel? I, as someone without lived experiences of illegalised migration and applying for asylum, will not be able to fully understand the full extent of damages incurred, but I do admire Flower and Derek for their courage and good spirit. They feared scrutiny from the Home Office as this all-powerful figure which can potentially withhold refuge and safety. In their personal lives, this scrutiny lingered from the community as people who were detained in immigration detention, who do have mental health struggles from trauma, and as people who had to live through an unkind system. 

illustration of two hands coming together
Illustrations by Preksha Pranjali

As I reflect, I think of heedless divisions of people, attempting to weed ‘undeserving’ asylum seekers from those who are in ‘real’ need. Nobody makes the perilous journey if they are able to preserve their dignity in their homeland. In wanting to bifurcate between authentic refugees deserving protection and unauthentic, ‘fraud’ refugees who must be deported, the figure of a refugee is framed as a perpetual fearful subject as by definition in Article 1 A(2) of the 1951 Geneva Convention, ‘… owing to a well-founded fear of being persecuted …’ How long should fear persist for a person’s claim to asylum can be seen as genuine? For their pain to be validated as ‘authentic’? This is a system which perpetuates a fearful subject. People in vulnerable positions are expected to recount traumatising experiences and perform as a fearful subject deserving of protection in order to gain asylum. In other words, ‘perform’ in such a way to demonstrate that they are ‘fearful’ and ‘authentic’ through answering questions in a particular way, using certain words, and exposing some of the most intimate and fearful parts of their lives.  

How will people heal if they are always expected to be ‘authentic’, not just as a refugee, but, as the system and definition dictate, a victim. 

I commend Derek and Flower for speaking out about their experiences so earnestly. I can only speak on behalf of myself and what I take away from the conversation, but I found their conservations to be an exercise in regaining control and agency. Using your voice and speaking with an open heart is one of the most powerful things that you can do. After they have endured an unfair, hostile system which criminalises innocent people, Derek and Flower rise above their suffering and hold onto their humanity.  

 

 

You can listen to the introductory episode embedded above, on Acast, and on Apple Podcasts.

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