What happened to ‘they are us’?

Are they [immigrants] only us if they keep quiet? If they don’t challenge our comfort and complacency? If they don’t move in and, before they’ve even sat down, want to start rearranging the furniture?

Shhh, don’t tell anyone. I’m not sure if I’m allowed to have this opinion in public. Not if I want it to be taken seriously, anyway.

I mean, I’m contracted to write it, but as an immigrant, maybe I shouldn’t be. Am I taking away an opinion from a real Kiwi? It’s all very confusing.

None of this is my idea, to be fair. I’d been sailing along reasonably happily until I read a column on Stuff that took issue not so much with the rights of immigrants/foreigners to speak out, but, as I read it, to have an expectation of their views being taken seriously by New Zealanders.

Arguing that New Zealanders are ‘‘essentially a complacent and contented lot’’, a view I’d increasingly dispute, Karl du Fresne saw this as one of the reasons for ‘‘the high proportion of foreign-born activists at the forefront of radical politics in New Zealand’’.

A couple of his targets didn’t surprise me, because they’ve been in the news a fair bit lately; antipoverty campaigner Ricardo Menendez March, and refugee advocate Guled Mire. He argued ‘‘such people bring with them an ideological fervour that is alien to New Zealanders’’. That’s almost ‘‘if they want to come here they should be like us’’ phrased another way. And it’s a claim that seems ridiculous, at least in the case of Mire, who was just 6 when his mother fled Somalia for Kenya with her nine children, the start of a process that eventually brought them to New Zealand.

It seems fair to assume that a hefty chunk of the ideological fervour that has seen him speak out against restrictions on refugees from Africa and the Middle East, which have now been acknowledged as discriminatory, and dropped, was fostered in his new homeland. It’s been reported he experienced racism at school here. That would do it. And if it hadn’t quite finished the job, being told to shut up and be grateful when he dared to mention that our refugee restrictions were racist, which they were, would sharpen it.

Anyway, Mire has been here some 22 years now and that column suggests he doesn’t ‘‘represent New Zealanders’’, so I’m wondering what the cut-off is. I’d mistakenly thought acquiring citizenship, showing long-term commitment to a country, was significant, but apparently not. I’ve been here 18 years, and a citizen for 11, but if Guled Mire doesn’t represent New Zealanders, what are my chances?

It’s not good news either for Menendez March, who had the temerity to speak out on the new Parent Resident Visa immigration category a week or so ago. He’s only been here since 2006, I believe. What was he thinking, speaking out like that?

I have a feeling I may have slipped under the radar a bit because I’m not an activist, and maybe because I’m not brown, or I have a name that doesn’t sound Spanish, or Chinese. It’s unusual, but it’s British, sort of. The only time anyone’s told me to go back to my country was when I suggested the Crusaders should consider changing their name in the wake of the mosque atrocities. Hold the phone.

Maybe I ‘‘look like a Kiwi’’, whatever that means.Though to be fair, activists Terry Bellamak and Valerie Morse, who I’d argue do too if we’re going down that road, also got a mention alongside Mire and Menendez March. Then again, I’m also not a woman.

I suppose, by extension, this ridiculous logic means Golriz Ghahraman doesn’t represent New Zealanders, even though she’s been elected to serve in our Parliament. She certainly gets a disproportionate amount of public and talkback pushback.

Before you argue that’s because she’s a Greenie and her policies are silly, save it. I know some people will think that, but name another Green MP who’s copped as much abuse since Metiria Turei. Remember her? Brown, bolshie, female. Yep. Not to mention Ghahraman is foreign, and a refugee. No wonder people are always trying to shut her down.

So what happened to ‘‘they are us’’, the phrase that so quickly became an enduring feature of the aftermath of March’s mosque atrocities? Are they only us if they keep quiet? If they don’t challenge our comfort and complacency? If they don’t move in and, before they’ve even sat down, want to start rearranging the furniture?

I visited a friend who lives south of Auckland a few weeks ago. We stopped at a supermarket briefly, and as we went back to the car, she told me the thing she liked most about living there was ‘‘the diversity . . . I love it’’. I could only nod in agreement.

Of course, du Fresne is a strong proponent of free speech. I am too, though as I’ve written a couple of times before, freedom of speech does not mean freedom from the consequences of the speech. So I respect he has a right to sign off a column I thought started off with a legitimate premise with a blast on his dog whistle, even if I think it’s spiteful, divisive and potentially harmful to the immigrants who are so much part of OUR country.

That’s why I’m fully behind another call this week I’m sure he’ll question on the basis of free speech – the decision by Massey University, on health and safety grounds, not to allow the Feminism 2020 conference to go ahead on its campus.

In short, I believe the group that hoped to host it there is transphobic, particularly towards transgender women, to the point of questioning the legitimacy of their existence, and that is harmful. But like those of immigrants to this country, their rights are human rights. They are us.