My paternal grandfather came over from Italy at the age of 19. He spoke no English, as he was not schooled here, he was one of nine, the eldest, and stayed behind to close up and sell the farm. He was horribly bullied by scottish people, particularly soldiers, who deeply abused him, normally in the method of shouting abuse in the street or coming into the shop to do it.
They became very affluent through owning a number of fish and chip shops. He never forgot and sadly he never forgave the abuse he took as a young immigrant. He was shouted at, beaten, men, namely soldiers, would come into thr shop and try to drag him over the counter to beat him. All because he was a perceived as a lowly immigrant. Nothing more.
What's more sad, is they lived in the gorbals in Glasgow when they landed. And they were noted as the family who made the big bowls of pasta and fed the neighbours due to the extreme poverty, they were loved and respected.. But they were deeply abused due to their immigrant status outwith.
Forty, fifty, sixty, seventy years later, all anyone saw was affuent and polite people, well dressed in a beautiful house, their accents all but gone, respected within their communities.Their immigration status long forgotten. No one asked any more.My grandmother got past it but my grandfather never did. A proud man who was deeply hurt by the abuse he received.
Sometimes I look at immigrants today, how they are treated, the ones who work hard, who in fifty, sixty, seventy years will be part of our landscape and no longer perceived as immigrants and will likely be affluent and respected, and realise, sometimes, just sometimes, we don't change as a people.
You seldom hear the phase " dirty Iti"any more. Being Italian heritage is something I'm proud of, that people think is cool, no one has ever called me a dirty iti, but let's be honest, we hear similar about other nationalities. It's actually very sad.