1 An Introduction

Migration is rich with stories-of ongoing journeys, destinations and returns, of wanderlust and the co-existence of multiple identity narratives. It often is about individuals and families seeking fresh opportunities, second chances for building new lives away from their original home, in an elsewhere far away. These migratory movements, often transnational, are also about paradoxical realities of living continuously in in-between spaces, experiencing at once loss, belonging, and the birth of new possibilities. Memories and exclusions are other popular migration tropes; the point then, the experience of migration, as unique or universal as it might be, is always rooted in everyday stories of lived experience, of real people striving to create new beginnings and tell stories that are both precarious and exciting, real and imagined.

The book Migration and Identity through Creative Writing: StOries: Strangers to Ourselves, is a hybrid edited collection that emerges from an interdisciplinary migration-themed project that began in July 2021, at the Canada Excellence Research Chair (CERC) Program in Migration and Integration, at Toronto Metropolitan University, in Canada. Initiated with the objective of giving voice to the multiplicities and layers, nuances and contrarieties that co-exist at the heart of migration narratives, it was created as a virtual project against the backdrop of COVID-19. Further, this book-project is also inspired by the fractious environment initiated by pandemic inequities, as well as the racism and the social isolation it gave rise to. The first two years of the COVID-19 pandemic became a time when paradoxical narratives began to emerge-of communities being impacted differently based on the privilege they had or lacked; and diverse population groups being inexorably connected through participating in a unique human experience. ‘We’re all in this together’ became an oft-cited war cry while the need to build solidarities and support networks with each other rather than being separated by differences was emphasised.

This project lives at the intersection of the ‘experiential’ and the ‘narrative’ in Migration Studies; and contributors are Canadian researchers and emerging academics and practitioners in migration and other disciplines (with intersecting interests in migration). Although the stories are produced in Canada-several situated here too-they span geographical locations, personal memory mindscapes, and complex political and social issues rooted in countries as varied as Brazil, Colombia, Guyana, Jamaica, Trinidad, India, Iran, Italy, Taiwan, China, Turkey. This duality makes the collection relevant for Canadian researchers, academics, and general readers; and also beyond-to an international readership interested in migration, both from a scholarly perspective and from a popular culture standpoint.

2 The Canadian Context

Given the collection’s grounding in dominant articulations of ‘Canadian’ multiculturalism and immigration policy, and in specific notions around diversity and integration that shape the lived experience stories told by story owners, a few specific contextual considerations are highlighted below.’ Some of the explication that follows in this section may be particularly helpful for readers-international and others- who have a cursory understanding of the Canadian context, and would like to learn more. This may be helpful as the following conceptualizations of migration and integration trajectories; and of intergenerational dilemmas they often lead to, serve as the backdrop to several stories included in this collection.

2.1 Multiculturalism as Official Policy in Canada

For instance, it may be helpful to note that multiculturalism-oftentimes the contextual backdrop in the stories and personal essays collected in this volume, and at other times situated centre-stage- has long been enshrined as official policy in Canada; it came into effect through the Canadian Multiculturalism Act in the 1970s, and became law in 1988. Several studies have teased out dilemmas and complexities inherent in this framework as well as ways in which lives of immigrants and non-immigrants in Canada are impacted as a result of this policy (Berry, 2011; Ghosh, 1994; Halder, 2012; Imbert, 2017; Joppke, 2017; Kymlicka, 1995, 2010; Moodley & Adam, 2012; Naidu, 1995). Contrary to its conceptualization and implications in other societies globally, multiculturalism in Canada is intentioned towards equality for all; and the provision of rights and freedoms to minority communities to protect and preserve their differences, their heritage and cultures, religion and languages, while celebrating their diversities and facilitating their meaningful integration into Canadian society, including in the labour market- through Canada’s employment equity policies. Further, not in the manner of the American “melting pot,” Canada’s integration framework (and model) encourages ethnic and cultural communities to preserve and promote their cultural practices, their heritage, and their differentiated identities, just as individualized pieces stand out in a “mosaic.” It is a big topic-and has immense potential to impact the everyday lives of individuals and groups- and is made sense of by people, based on their specific situated-ness.

Clarifying this notion further, a scholar’s disciplinary orientation shapes their views about multiculturalism, and as a policy framework, a newcomer to Canada may see it as full of promise with potential to reassure them of their human rights. Scholars and academics have defined it variously, discussing if it is a single doctrine, or if it has been slowly dying (Vertovec & Wessendorf, 2010). Over the last few decades, and based on the climate of the times, scholars from multiple disciplinary standpoints have argued about its role in shaping (and being shaped by) discourses around cultural differences and Canadian identity, immigration, diversity and democracy, citizenship and human rights, and other big narratives that shape the world we inhabit. Critics have discussed its relevance, and the backlash to it, including observing that despite its liberal connotations it has little power to enforce equity or to assure migrants of anything substantive, like, economic rights, which is what they most need (Bannerji, 1996). On the other hand, any rights framework is perhaps a good thing, as within it, an institutional or legal structure exists that individuals can access when the redressal of wrongdoing, or legal recourse, is needed. To understand discourses, and everyday realities, concerning integration and belonging, racism and discrimination, or even the key considerations in Canada’s immigration policy and governance, multiculturalism is not only a useful theoretical tool for analysis but also has practical applicability in the every-day, as well as implications for policy and practice on the ground.

2.2 Visible Minority: Names and Labels and Their Impact on Identity-Making

Views and perceptions about immigrants that fit them into neat one-dimensional economic (and social) paradigms often construct individuals and communities in a monolithic, either/or representation. For example, it became quite clear during the StOries Project discussions, that legal citizenship on paper does not always grant the right to be recognised as “Canadian,” particularly if an individual belongs to a visible minority group. There are other ‘signs’ of belonging including phenotype, name (foreign sounding or not), accent, only to name a few. Generally, in conversation when a reference is made to “Canadians,” the (default) implication is not to citizenship but rather to an Anglo-saxon or French ancestry. Naturally ‘Canadians’ is a malleable category as it may simultaneous include those of European ancestry in general but exclude some Europeans (e.g. from southern or eastern Europe) compared to others (from northern or western Europe or from Australia and New Zealand.) There are multiple layers of identity and recognition as is common in most major immigrant receiving countries, which include not just the legal form of citizenship but also the phenotypical appearance, name and accent of people. As Ager and Strang (2008) have argued in their work on integration, there are different layers and aspects of belonging and of becoming integrated and these are recognised in interaction with other members of the community. In countries like Canada however, where the path to citizenship is relatively straightforward (three years of residence with permanent resident status are required to apply for citizenship and the state makes it a priority for new immigrants to become citizens when the time comes (see for instance Hou & Picot, 2021), the dominant narrative of welcome and inclusion often stands out in sharp contrast with experiences of discrimination that individuals face in the every-day. Our work in this volume seeks to elaborate on the complex intertwining of these different layers of identity and belonging and of feeling ‘integrated.’

Dismantling and interrogating the subtle forms of exclusion or discrimination can help us navigate and critique hidden assumptions and biases widely prevalent in popular culture. This can also be potentially useful in deconstructing the impact such labeling and terms of representation have upon newcomers’ constructions of self, as well as their self-esteem. For example, terms like “visible minority,” “immigrant,” “migrant,” or “newcomer” – used to describe or address this cohort- shapes not only their self-perceptions, but also others’ assumptions, and negative stereotyping of them; and this often creates homogenizing and totalizing mainstream narratives in relation to immigrants and immigration. These play a role in further enhancing migrant individuals’ sense of a marginalised outsider-status (Maxim, 1992; Ogbuagu, 2012).

Although such forms of identity-making are most powerfully experienced by individuals who are new entrants in the host culture, oftentimes, as years roll on and they become legal citizens, and are meaningfully employed, such labels stick, confirming their minority status; such labels-carrying negative biases- become further normalised due to the color of people’s skin, their accents, or their need to sustain their bi-cultural identity (Haiying, 2005; Tafarodi et al., 2002) through continuing to maintain their cultural practices, and their religious traditions, like celebrating their festivals or going regularly to their places of worship.

Canadian multiculturalism may be seen to lie at the heart of these tensions and gaps because it promises inclusion with space for diversity at the individual and collective level (for example, through aspiring for an integration model, like a ‘mosaic,’ not a ‘melting pot’) but then it does not fully deliver on the promise, particularly for those who belong to a ‘visible minority’. As Will Kymlicka notes, multiculturalism has offered in Canada an incomplete process of ‘citizenization’ as minorities have often suffered a stigma of not belonging, whether because not contributing hard enough to society or because they are ‘citizens of convenience’ (Kymlicka, 2022: 25.)

The vocabulary used in Canada is telling of contradictions that reflect both a pro-active migration policy and the history of an immigrant nation and a settler colonial state. Thus immigrants are understood as different from migrants – where immigrants are those who come with a perspective to stay and usually have entered the country as permanent residents, while migrants are those who entered with a temporary status and are expected to leave. It is though now clear that this distinction largely no longer holds as even in Canada many people arrive with a temporary status and then transition to permanent (Akbar, 2022). Citizens and permanent residents of a non-European or non-white background are labelled as visible or racialized minorities. The term is preferred to ethnic minorities (used in Britain) or immigrants, guest workers (Germany), people of immigrant origin (France) people from outside the EU (extracomunitari) (Italy) or alocthones (the Netherlands) as used in different European countries for instance. Visible or racialized minorities signal non-whiteness as a common feature and the experience of being perceived as non-fully Canadian, this regardless of their legal status. The term is truly more flexible and accommodates how different communities may define their identity at the intersection of ethnicity, race, religion or other attributes.

The notion of visible or racialized minority and the overall approach of multiculturalism, while in principle positive and laudable, may turn into a double edged sword. Through its official mandate to encourage (even promote) cultural diversity, multicultural policy often ends up congealing migrant identities in specifically ethnic moulds, precluding possibilities of fully embracing a Canadian identity, especially for migrants who might choose to do so. In other words, ethnic minority status is often thrust upon migrant individuals and groups even when they themselves do not own up to occupying such a space on the periphery, and have moved beyond such a personal subjectivity. For the 1.5 generation (those who migrated to Canada with their parents as children or youth), as well as for second and later generations, the impacts of assumptive and racist behaviours they experience can be more intense and deeply negative when compared with their parents’ generation. Being born or raised in Canada, (or both), their situated-ness and status in Canada defines their sense of self; and their claims to a Canadian identity, as well as their attachment and belonging to this country and their home, is very different from that of their parents as Canada is the only home they have had. Experiencing racism, discrimination, even an outsider status in such a context has enhanced potential for personal and social conflict.

2.3 The (Problematic) Politics of Representation

Deconstructing this politics of representation further, one established view perceives migrants as a monolithic group that takes jobs away from more deserving and entitled Canadians while the other perception sees in them a necessary resource that can make a useful contribution to the Canadian economy. Such dualities in perceptions relating to newcomers create a binary wherein individuals are often situated on two opposite ends of a spectrum (van de Ven & Voitchovsky, 2015). Besides, such a binary is problematic also because these two views become separated and compartmentalized spaces into which individuals and groups are often forced to fit in, with no real options of being situated in the more nuanced spaces that lie in between.

As a result of these broad strokes, the specificity of a life and singularity of the story replete with everyday lived experience of success and failure, is lost (Ogbuagu, 2012; Hébert et al., 2010; Wilkinson, 2013). Further, such grand narratives lead to simplifications, generalizations, and patterns that create rigid and homogenous categories that get locked in popular imagination and culture. As well, they lead to stereotypical representations and assumptions that are often fixed and one-dimensional (Krishnamurti, 2013; Mogadime et al., 2012). These two mindsets co-exist, both indicative of racial biases, namely, immigrants viewed as resource that will perform jobs “Canadians” don’t want to work at, and when they get good jobs being seen as outsiders who steal good opportunities from more deserving Canadians (Berry, 2011; Palmer, 1996).

Many migrants, new to the Canadian context, are offended by this turn of events because they know well their own expertise. They are well aware too that such blue-collar minimum wage jobs in call centres or flipping burgers, or working as security guards and health care aides, are not the jobs they came to Canada to work at (Danso, 2007). Even when viewed as respectable here when compared with perceptions of people back home, these forms of employment often make them feel humiliated, underutilised and unable to contribute in ways they believe themselves capable of or qualified for (Chatterjee, 2015). Immigrant professionals encounter other significant challenges apart from unemployment, for example, underemployment, and over-qualification (Bluestein et al., 2013; Ng & Shan, 2010; Reitz, 2001; Thompson et al., 2013), deskilling, and devaluation (Guo & Shan, 2013). Their lack of job search experience in this new cultural context is a major barrier in and of itself, and certain prescriptive methods and behaviors are recommended by settlement organizations in order to help them achieve success (Akkaymak, 2017; Guerrero & Rothstein, 2012).

3 Narrative Braiding of the Experiential and the Scholarly Through Creative Writing

This edited collection brings together storytelling and self-narrative, creative writing and narrative enquiry to explore a variety of topics in migration from an experiential lens. The volume is both hybrid and multi-genre as it contains both scholarly chapters grounded in academic migration literature, as well as personal essays and creative non-fiction. The objective was for contributors- trained as researchers and academics, being current or recently graduated students- to employ creative writing formats and techniques to tell their personal migration stories. These 20 narratives, written primarily in a creative non-fiction and personal essay mode, were initiated and seeded through using a collective process of ‘workshopping.’

Being both personal and sociological, political and intergenerational, many of these stories are also loosely informed by autoethnographic perspectives and principles. However, given they are not academic essays, or research studies, they cannot be characterised as autoethnographic texts per se; nor did the authors set out to produce them using precepts that underpin analytic or evocative autoethnographic approaches. That being said, several stories straddle the liminal and blurry boundaries existent between autobiography and autoethnography. In addition to the 20, what we may call story-chapters, there are four academic chapters too- this introductory one, a chapter on methodology, a chapter on the COVID-19 Pandemic, and a last chapter on ‘notes from the field’ that wraps up our thinking on (alternative) ontological and epistemological pathways for studying migration ‘differently.’ These academic chapters examine and discuss the related concepts of migration, like, identity and diversity, integration and agency, transnationalism and return, providing critical reflections on these concepts. Further, together these chapters propose a particular methodology for ‘workshopping’ migration narratives, and writing about (personal) lived experiences through iterations of scientific reflection, narrative enquiry, and creative imagination.

This book project uses creative writing to explore some of the main concepts and themes that pertain to migration, specifically those that emerged through the scholarly inquiry and creative writing the participants of the CERC StOries Project engaged with. These contexts and themes, as well as significant related migration concepts, are organised by the editors in thematic categories. In this introductory chapter, we discuss these conceptual, theoretical and methodological frameworks, and we investigate their connotations and ambiguities. We discuss recent developments in the respective fields and identify gaps in migration theory and methodology that we feel creative writing can contribute towards addressing. We also share a few examples from the 20 stories collected in this volume to highlight important migration themes the authors have helped to concretize through their personal essays and creative non-fiction contributions.

As an aside, it is important to note that a diverse and rich plethora of diasporic literature and immigrant writing-in all genres, from fiction to creative non-fiction, memoirs and personal essays, as well as in other innovative formats- is abundant internationally and in Canada (this country having the distinction of being a country formed through immigration, where apart from indigenous peoples, all other populations carry some past history or current story of migration). Postcolonial scholars and theorists too have explored and grappled with important migration themes, providing rich critiques on them. As Burge (2020), Gallien (2018), Woolley (2014), and White (1995) observe though, literary texts have not been a significant part of the study of migration, with social scientists continuing to see literature as ‘tangential sources’(White, 1995, p.9). The gap is wide between the contribution of sociological approaches to migration and what interdisciplinary fields, especially the humanities- and within that, specifically, literary studies and creative writing-can bring, to our deep understanding of the complexities of the migration experience; and much can be explored in the world of literary accounts that can expand our understanding of the migration experiences, and its multiple trajectories and tropes.

Following on the heels of the introductory chapter is the methodological discussion that begins by telling the story of the vision, objectives, and implementation of the StOries Project, grounded as it was in a workshopping process that was central to developing this edited collection. Using experimental and innovative methods to understand the lived experience of migration, the methodology chapter tells the story of experimental methodological approaches that were employed- that focused on personal storytelling, self-narrative and autoethnographic enquiry- to explore the potential of creative writing to delve deep into the lived migration experience. Additionally, the objective was also to examine the methodological and pedagogical aspects that underpin the processes of generating these stories (another form of data); for instance, strategies we used throughout the implementation of this project, like collaboration and co-creation, reflexive practice and peer-learning. These strategies led to the shifting of power dynamics within the teaching-learning environment that were instrumental in producing these creative non-fiction stories and personal essays. The implications these alternative methodologies have for knowledge production in migration research and practice, and for decolonising the field, are relevant to this discussion.

4 Methodologies for Exploring New Directions in Migration Research and Practice

This anthology is a hybrid multi-genre collection that represents the diversity and the variety, as well as the nuances, contained in the lived experience of migration. Bringing the world into one place, chapters Three to chapter Twenty-One are story-chapters written in a creative writing style- primarily personal essays and creative non-fiction. Given the shared commonality of profile between the contributors referred to above-all have an academic background- the authors are trained to write following the rules of the scientific genre, being aware of sociological and conceptual contexts in relation to migration specific theories and terms. However, the objective and focus of this collection was that writers embrace the challenge of writing creatively about these themes and issues, additionally turning the narrative lens on their personal experience of migration. We should add here that their participation in this initiative to workshop and submit their migration focused story for this collection came from their own deep interest and strong motivation to participate to produce stories inspired in a collective setting. In other words, through this anthology, we explore the potential of creative writing as methodology, undertaken by individuals who are not creative writers per se, but they are familiar with dilemmas and trajectories of migration and exclusion, both from a lived experience standpoint and a scholarly perspective. It is important to also note, that unlike many anthologies of ‘immigrant writing,’ many of the contributors to this collection do not have first-hand experience of migration. More than half of the writers are either born/raised in Canada or they moved here at an early age of development as part of family migration-either as children or in their teenage years. Some writers came to this country as international students, some others as economic migrants, and they decided to pursue higher education in their later years once more pressing settlement and employment needs had been met. In terms of their racial and ethnic, religious and cultural backgrounds too, there is a hybrid mix of identity-sites among them.

Another factor that makes this collection different, and innovative, is that although immigrant and diasporic writing is well-established as a canon in the literary field, and in cultural and postcolonial studies, to name a few disciplines, broadly, the focus of the scholars in those disciplines is to study the ‘{representation} of others’ migrant experience (in diaspora writing, for instance), using textual analysis and critical and literary theory. The focus, through a collection such as ours, is to argue for the inclusion of creative and expressive writing in migration studies as an approach to explore, write and present the self through turning the lens inward. This is in line with the post-colonial stance of returning the gaze, and writing back from the perspectives of those whose stories these are, with the intent of taking back control, power, and agency. It is also with the objective of building new knowledge in relation to multi-layered experiences of migration, arrival, and integration in the host country, through producing non-hegemonic counter-narratives; and exploring arts-based approaches that have good potential to help migrants and refugees share their self-narratives with others. Employing ParticipatoryAction Research (PAR) approaches and autoethnographic narratives to design and implement projects that centre the voices and stories of migrants and refugees are important as they have the potential to get closer to lived experience than traditional research methods (See O’Neill et al., 2019; and work done by Dutch International Storytelling Centre). While these ground-up approaches and elicitive methods are being used in creative writing workshops-and these have been proliferating even more widely during our pandemic years-these approaches are still relatively young and somewhat experimental in the established academic field of migration studies, and should be expanded further.

Our aim, through this collection, is to reach out to both cohorts of readers: one is the general non-academic (mainstream) reader for whom migration stories and issues are a key context that shapes our world today. Importantly though, the second cohort this collection aims to specifically also address is the academic reader, including researchers and students of migration, interested in exploring interdisciplinary and innovative perspectives to enhance their understanding of lived experiences of migration.

The collection includes a chapter where COVID-19-titled Pandemic Thoughts: Life in the Times of COVID-19 is the protagonist, and through opening ‘a slice of life’ kind of window upon these pandemic years, it centres these experiences as situated in the lives of Project participants-contributing authors of this collection- who in some shape or form have been, or are still being impacted by migration in their own personal lives. Given that the last two years have generated ample data and stories- with findings resulting from both qualitative and quantitative research studies in the migration field- this chapter would contribute another layer of observations, insights, and critical analysis to the current literature on migration in times of COVID-19. Finally, the last chapter, Becoming through Story: The Relational Processes of Writing and Creating the StOries Project, is an interweaving of reflections and analysis relating to ‘fieldnotes;’ and while this chapter serves as a conclusion to the collection, it also lights the way forward, suggesting new theoretical and methodological ways of understanding ourselves and each other as well as contexts related to identity and belonging.

5 Conceptual Framework

This anthology explores the potential of personal storytelling, creative writing, and narrative approaches (like autoethnography) to delve into migration settings and mindscapes that emerge from experiences of mobility-be they recent, multi-generational or transnational. Connelly and Clandinin (1990), and Clandinin (2006), describe narrative inquiry as the study of the ways humans experience the world. Also, as it became clear through the ‘process’ of this book project, stories of life events are not simply definitive accounts of ‘what happened’ but rather, mediated by memory and imagination, these storied lives are reconstructions of lived lives (Christou, 2009). Several stories in this collection express the dilemmas individuals experience when they feel like they are forever both (partial) insiders and outsiders in both home and host cultures; and even when living and embracing such hybrid positionings, in the stories and essays they write, the struggles to fully understand and re-visit this dynamic and shifting self are ongoing and resonant. Moreover, it is in relationship with the societal that stories come into being; and it is precisely in these locations that they need to be negotiated with.

Boylorn and Orbe (2014) describe critical autoethnography- one of the qualitative research approaches that underpin some of the chapters- “to understand the lived {and contextual} experiences of real people, to examine social conditions and uncover oppressive power arrangements, and to fuse theory and action to challenge processes of domination.” While the theoretical and methodological imperatives to consider this lens, and explore this approach more fully seem obvious, it has so far been little utilised to make sense of the interlinkages and resonances between the personal, social and political, and the psychological, in migration. As the disclaimer above articulates, the creative writing chapters were based more in personal storytelling and grounded in lived experience, and they were not written in academic and analytic styles that deliberately utilised autoethnographic approaches and modes. Even so, if examined critically, the stories in the collection demonstrate the potential within autoethnography-for centring experiential knowledge, bridging the personal self with the social text, and prioritizing interdisciplinary perspectives.

Further, speaking of interdisciplinary boundary-crossings in the context of migration, and considering creative practice more generally, creative writing facilitates processes and spaces where self-explorations can lead to therapeutic healing, including in a community setting with others; and this perspective has been central to feminist theory too. One of the themes we workshopped during the life of this book project was the question ‘why I want to write, and for whom am I writing.’ Describing the benefits of writing, bell hooks (1999, 4–5) explicates the value of the “counter hegemonic experience of creativity within patriarchal culture.” Chibici-Revneanu (2016), argues for the implementation of expressive writing workshops as an effective and financially viable policy measure to promote psychological well-being and integration for some migrant populations.

Finally, as an ideological position and a technique, posing a challenge to dominant ideologies through critically reflecting on one’s own personal experiences and social realities also reiterates commitments to social justice and to amplifying personal voice; counter-storytelling that focuses on uniqueness and specificities, as well as multiplicities and abundance, then have the potential to challenge hegemonic colonial grand narratives.

In a similar vein, through the StOries Project and the workshopping method we employed (leading to this edited collection), we collaborated and co-created safe spaces where it was possible to break our silences and tell our own stories. Our stories centralize our “lived experiences,” surface our lost stories and give voice to us. These are counter-stories which challenge the categorizations and stereotypical images of us which are produced and reproduced by the white supremacy. This act and process of writing and sharing our lives on our terms is an empowering process through which we reclaim our identities. Furthermore, echoing critical race theory, our stories undermine the discourse that ours is a just and a multicultural society. As noted by Delgado and Stefancic (2001, 144), “Critical race counter storytelling is a method of telling a story that aims to cast doubt on the validity of accepted premises or myths, especially ones held by the majority”; it is a means of exposing and critiquing normalized dialogues that perpetuate racial stereotypes (Decuir et al., 2004, cited in Ballesteros, 2022). Given the gap between our lived experiences and the promises of multiculturalism, the stories hold up a mirror to Canadian society but also more broadly to most countries in the world as they all experience migration as origin, destination and transit places and as most are ethnically and culturally diverse.

6 A Workshop Methodology for Writing

StOries: Strangers to Ourselves is a special book project that uses storytelling and creative writing to explore significant concepts and themes that pertain to migration. These themes have emerged through a project of scholarly inquiry and creative writing (using a graduate seminar format in its first stage), developed at the CERC program at Toronto Metropolitan University in Toronto during 2021. The themes and the related concepts-presented through artifacts of literary and creative writing- are organised by the editors in thematic categories. All stories have emerged directly from the life cycle of this migration project, and none have so far been published.

The process of ‘workshopping’ themes and topics central to migration experiences was at the heart of the design and methodology utilized by the StOries Project. A call was announced, and based on a competitive selection process, a cohort of 23 current and recently graduated students, all with affiliations with Canadian universities, were selected to participate in this book-project. Using a discussion and workshop format, similar to a graduate seminar setting, a course outline containing academic and non-academic readings, podcasts, relevant youtube videos, and other online popular culture resources- like panels with writers, book discussions, and the how-to of writing memoirs and personal essays, as well as reading samples – were shared with participants. These resources as well as writing and reflection prompts, employed in a collaborative environment, initiated weekly discussions, leading to thoughtful collective reflections and writing exercises in a group setting. Additionally, other methods, including mentorship, were used that helped create opportunities for project members to develop and finesse their writing styles, both individually and collectively. It was in this workshop conversation setting, where we used collective reflection, peer-feedback, and writing prompts, to create an environment that was thoughtful, emotionally fertile, and that felt safe, where many of these personal stories were seeded and born.

7 Key Themes

In the introduction to this collection of stories, we discuss migration related theories, trajectories, and tropes that align with themes raised in all 20 stories. We investigate their connotations, ambiguities, and complexities, linking these to specific topics explored in the creative pieces while grounding them in a broader review of migration literature, identifying gaps that we believe creative writing can contribute towards addressing. Using an interdisciplinary approach, this edited collection of migration narratives explores the following main stages of migration and the related concepts. We start with what precedes migration, notably the context of nation-states and notions of identity and diversity today. We then discuss the very experience of migration as a social navigation and the agency of the migrant. The notion of integration follows with a critical appraisal of how measures of integration may be misconceiving the nuanced experiences of migrants. We then look at what comes after integration, notably the negative experiences of racism and discrimination. Last but not least, we turn to what could be the last chapter of a migration project but which is often just a new beginning.

Below we offer a brief discussion of these key concepts and themes, and explain how contributions to this book address some of the issues that the research literature has emphasised, including new ones that were highlighted during the life-cycle of this project.

8 Negotiating Nation, Identity and Diversity

Migration today takes place in a world of nations. The migrant, as Abdelmalek Sayad put it more than 30 years ago, is an anomaly, a contradiction to the national order as s/he is present where s/he should not be (at a country other than her/his own) and s/he is absent from s/he should be – at her/his homeland. While nations remain a powerful source of identity and legitimacy and the predominant form of political organisation today, they are also faced with complex challenges. Economic globalisation has intensified, bringing with it a more intense phase of cultural interconnectedness and political interdependence. The flows of capitals, goods and services have been intertwined with human migration flows even if in usually different directions. The global pandemic crisis of Covid19 is but the latest and most dramatic expression of how interconnected and mobile the world is. Kazmi’s ‘Suitcases: A Story of Migration During the Pandemic,’ situated at the intersection of the experience of ‘migrancy’ and border closures in COVID times, is a moving testimony that takes us to that intimate place of what an individual ‘feels’ when their lifelong dreams are about to be shattered, their life put on hold.

In addition to a few other stories where the pandemic is mentioned in passing, or creates the context for telling the story, this anthology devotes a whole chapter- called Pandemic Thoughts: Life in the Times of COVID-19-to this global crisis of our times. It is a collaborative kaleidoscope of a few select pieces on COVID-19- a kind of time capsule packed with empirical evidence of multiple impacts the pandemic has had on migrant individuals, as well as on their families and communities. Important themes emerge, like gendered experiences of the pandemic and what mothering looks like at this time; social inequities and exacerbated negative impacts especially triggered by race and class identities; as well as how this unique time in our history has highlighted the demarcations between categories that further divide ‘us’ from ‘them.’ In these creative writing pieces, some presented as life defining vignettes, others in the form of philosophical reflections, this story-ing of ‘life in pandemic times,’ as articulated in direct and penetrating personal writing from contributing authors, can make the reader think more critically about migration in a time of transnational mobilities, as situated in the backdrop of global capitalism.

While some authors have seen in globalisation (Mann, 1997) and regional integration (Milward, 1992) the rescue of the nation state, others (Papastergiadis, 2000) have announced the death of nations and their fall into irrelevance as globalisation and international migration intensify, leading to the de-territorialisation of identities and the de-nationalisation of governance (Zorn, 1999). These latter arguments were indirectly supported by the critical sociologists of late modernity such as Anthony Giddens (1991), or Ulrich Beck (1992) who argued for the disjuncture between the individual and the collectivity in late modernity and the emergence of information or network society (Castells, 2010a, b). More recently though, several scholars (for instance Calhoun, 2007), have argued that nations are still important and relevant as communities that underpin political and social rights and democracy even if a certain dose of cosmopolitanism is necessary too.

Reality has proven right those who advocated for the continuing relevance, and perhaps adaptation of nations and nationalism, to the new challenges of post-industrial societies. Nationalism is re-emerging in different guises: as ethno-religious nationalism with racist overtones like in Orban’s Hungary or Kaczynski’s Poland (Buchowski, 2016), as chauvinist and populist patriotism like Italy’s Lega party or France’s Front National (Betz, 2018), in the guises of subversive populist left wing movements like Syriza which advance a sense of national independence in their anti-establishment discourse, and of course in the discourses of fear of the Other and a return to an authentic civic but homogenous nation rising in Austria (Wodak, 2016), Norway (Bangstad, 2018) or Denmark (Jorgensen & Lund Tomsen, 2018). Thus, while the nation state appears to surrender to supranational institutions or private actors and its borders are transcended by multiple flows and networks, nations and nationalism are alive and kicking, and a good part of the citizens appear to ask for the re-nationalisation of the social space.

However, during the last 15 years, we witnessed also important trends in favour of transnational solidarity, transcending national borders. A case in point are the various Indignados and Occupy movements across Europe and North America in the early 2010 as well as youth mobilisations in support of the Arab spring movement. Later in that decade we witnessed both transnational commemorations of the victims of terrorist attacks in Paris, France or in Christchurch, New Zealand, and transnational protests like the Extinction Rebellion or the Fridays for Future in London, UK and other cities around the world. The same can be said about the most recent Black Lives Matter and anti-vax protests again across different countries and world regions that brought people together across borders along common themes of protest and solidarity (Triandafyllidou, 2022).

These contrasted trends suggest that the way we conceive of identity and diversity is probably changing and we need new concepts to make sense of such changes. The question therefore arises on how we can talk about identity and diversity today? Can we still use the categories of homeland, belonging, the nation or should we argue for a post-national existence (as the Canadian Prime Minister Justin Trudeau also famously stated in 2015: Canada is the first post-national state). Recently, Triandafyllidou (2013, 2020) proposes the notion of plural nationalism as a concept that can accommodate these dynamics. Personal essays in the anthology, like Baksh’s ‘Random thoughts on immigration, religion and home,’ and Ari’s ‘How I became an Alevi Muslim woman’ are representations of gendered religious identities that reflect these fluid ‘liquid’ configurations of self that are both rooted in geographical spaces but they also come across as freewheeling, not tied to notions of any nationhood despite personal allegiances the protagonists have to a religion, sect, or ethnicity. While tropes that emerge from visceral notions, like nostalgia, belonging, and home, will at some level always be integral to the migrant mindscape, these stories self-reflexively tease out these identity dilemmas while being comfortable with multiplicities, paradoxes, and also irreconcilable differences.

Plural nationalism acknowledges that the nation is based in some commonality. Such commonality may invariably be based on cultural, ethnic, religious or territorial and civic elements. What is important is that the ingroup perceives such commonality and identifies with it, organises around it. Within this plural nationalism there is certainly a majority group that to a large extent has given its imprint on the national identity, through the historical process of nation formation which may have been smooth and gradual or traumatic and conflictual. However, this majority national cultural, ethnic or civic imprint does not monopolise the national identity definition and the relevant dominant discourse. By contrast plural nationalism acknowledges openly a degree of diversity in the nation that may stem from the period of nation formation and the existence of minorities within the nation, or may have evolved later through the experience of immigration. Plural nationalism acknowledges the changing demographic or political circumstances of the nation and the nation-state and through a process of tension, even conflict, and change, it creates a new synthesis. This nationalism is plural not because it acknowledges diversity as a fact but because it makes a commitment to engage with diversity. It is in these in-between spaces-existent between communities that see themselves (and that are seen) as definitively majority and others that are clearly marked as minority in the context of any nation- that a voice like Ari’s claiming her space as an Alevi Muslim (a minoritized Muslim group) in Turkey have potential to challenge the dominant narrative.

A concept similar to plural nationalism has recently been advanced by Tariq Modood (2019) who has argued for a multicultural understanding of nationalism. Modood’s notion builds on his earlier writings arguing that British national identity should accommodate post-migration ethnic minorities who ask for recognition and inclusion within the national self-concept (Modood, 2003). Modood argues (Modood, 2019: 236–237) that the majority and the minorities should stand in a dialogical relationship which should recognise that both identities are ever evolving, that neither side has the right to impose itself on the others, in ways that do not allow these others to coexist.

The notion of plural nationalism (Triandafyllidou, 2020) is not in reality particularly distant from the multicultural nationalism of Modood, albeit with a caveat: it is concerned not only with minorities within the state but also with real or imagined Others outside the boundaries of the nation-state. We argue for a more comprehensive view of nationalism in an interactive and multi-scalar context. Modood focuses on the normative and political dilemma of cultural and religious diversity accommodation and recognition in a national state, seeking to balance the relative predominance of the national (numerically superior and historically dominant) majority and the right of minorities to leave their own imprint on an inclusive national culture and to be allowed for public spaces of coexistence. Modood also emphasises that multiculturalism needs to focus on identity not just on rights and values if it is to create an inclusive multicultural society (Modood, 2020) and respond to majority anxieties. While we share this concern, both generally and in the context of representation of identity issues and dilemmas in this anthology, we are more preoccupied with understanding how identity works today and the dynamics that shape it; these are not to be found necessarily within the confines of the state but are related also to international pressures and constraints (see also Antonsich & Petrillo, 2019, on Italy) and situated in a triangular relational framework of the here, there and the elsewhere (country of origin, new homeland, and other significant ‘places’) as Tahseen Shams very insightfully argues (Shams, 2020). In ‘Kingston Blues,’ Atar expresses her struggles with identity-constructions and erasures, and with notions of borders of all kinds-real, imagined, and assumed. As an international graduate student during her first lonely winter in Kingston, Ontario, and dealing with the immediacy of emotions like homesickness and un-belonging, she also has to navigate ‘polite racism.’ It is unnerving for her to observe herself being seen by others as a typical Middle Eastern woman just because she came to Canada from Turkey. What is that, she can’t help but wonder; is this me, she seems to ask in her story (knowing full well, that it’s not. If she is that, she is also much more, she asserts). Meanwhile, in her own strong voice, and through her favourite playlist too (a kind of home for her) she engages in self-portraiture, ensuring her reader can see her more clearly, and on her own terms.

9 Navigation and Agency: The Journey of Migration

Recent scholarly work has paid increasing attention to the role of individual migrants, their families and networks and on the interaction between structural factors, relational forces and individual desires and aspirations in shaping international migration. The former two are conceptualised as drivers of migration to emphasise their dynamic and interactive nature beyond the more traditional approach of push and pull factors (Van Hear et al., 2017). The latter have been discussed using various terms like aspirations, desires, abilities and capabilities (see Carling & Schewel, 2017 for a review). Efforts to conceptualise and operationalise the notion of migrant agency in irregular migration processes include the recent insightful work of Mainwaring (2016) and Squire (Squire, 2017, also Strange et al., 2017). These studies seek to cast light on how migrants in highly constrained and vulnerable situations still seek to regain control and negotiate their situation, exercising agency. The above discussion aligns with Osorio’s story, ‘WIP.’ Conceptualising these navigations to achieve integration and self-actualization using the metaphor of a ‘work in progress,’ this author centres her lifelong hobby of doing cross-stich, started at age 13, to voice dilemmas and contradictions embedded in questions like, ‘when does one start being Canadian?’ Storying a life through the medium of brief vignettes and photos from their family album, Osorio’s personal essay shares the process of becoming Colombo-Canadian, starting from the invisibility of arrival in Canada to slowly weaving into her embroidery piece, one stitch at a time, new experiences and skills, as well as brand new dreams ‘until we were seen for who we are, not for the linguistic gaps, or the cultural differences.’

Research on international migration needs to focus less on how migration policies shape migration but rather investigate how migrants seek to ‘use’ policies in creative ways to circumvent or bypass restrictions, find alternative pathways and eventually proceed with their migration project. Recent research has highlighted such strategies, for instance, applying for asylum to obtain a temporary legal status (Bloch et al., 2011), go underground when other options are not available (Bloch ibid.), respond creatively to tighter border controls by passing as tourists (Chavez, 2011), or indeed use their knowledge of other migrants’ past experience or international law to insist on coastguard to rescue them (Mainwaring, 2016). The creative story-form Rajavel employs in ‘You lie in wait, you observe’ to express the arbitrary nature of border control is surrealistic, mythic, and it carries a kind of legend-like quality. Located in circa six million years ago, the story takes us on a journey through time that feels almost timeless; it is a commentary on territorialism and human expansionism, large nations engaging in wars with smaller entities, and humans with power engaging in rigid boundary making to suit their own objectives, creating uncertainties and exclusions for individuals and groups they decide are not worthy to be admitted.

Following from these insights, we have (Triandafyllidou, 2019) elaborated on the notion of social navigation (see Vigh, 2009) as a heuristic concept that helps us analyse different forms of agency that migrants develop in their process of navigating the various barriers, build on their resources and achieve their aims. Migration is a multi-dimensional (social, spatial, temporal) process which develops in non-linear ways, with several transit phases and places that can also involve moments of being ‘suspended’ both physically (because ‘stuck’ in a place) and legally (because in irregular status) (Oelgemoeller, 2011). In other words, it is a ‘fragmented’ journey with different ‘stops’ and intermediate milestones where the journey can change nature and direction and where there can also be returns and new departures towards new migration destinations. During these phases, there is an interplay between the migrant’s initial decision to migrate and her/his action of actually migrating, the conditions encountered while in transit and the related policies of both transit and destination countries, and the subsequent, or secondary decisions that the migrant makes.

As demonstrated by some of the stories gathered in this anthology- told by the 1.5 generation, and second-generation Canadians- both social navigation and integration can be ongoing and lifelong journeys. Ostapchuck, of Trinidadian heritage, and describing herself in ‘Trinidadian Trinkets,’ as a Canadian-born woman who married a Belarussian-Ukrainian Canadian man, shares in her story, some of her own identity-dilemmas: “There was a very good reason why I always asked what was for dinner, because it could have been any one of the following: pilau, dhal and rice, geera chicken, stew chicken, curry goat, curry dear, dumpling soup, and her own homemade roti; dhalpuri and buss up shut, which I only recently learned is also called paratha. One afternoon, Grandma let me help make the roti. I came in for the last step, but she let me roll a very small, six-year-old-Sarah-sized roti and cook it on the pan. I still remember how it tasted and felt. It was greasy and warm, with little brown marks, and it tasted like her roti, but a little chewier (I hadn’t properly rolled it). I was wearing one of her aprons. It extended to my feet, like a special dress.”

Social navigation and integration may even be intertwined in the way one spills into or shapes the other; and personal stories told using non-academic and literary styles of storytelling can be another way to get to the heart of those hidden and untold stories and the silent embedded layers of experience. This can have implications for policy making too. For instance, terms in which we understand or expect ‘integration’ to happen, or be attained by newcomers and immigrants, is what currently shapes settlement and integration programs, services and practices, as well as social and public policy objectives. If other layers and nuances, arising from inter and multi-generational story-sharing, including historical or trauma-infused narratives, were to be added to ways of meaning-making and knowledge production, then that would expand the repertoire of useful research methods that can help excavate (and triangulate) lived experience data to achieve further analytical granularity.

Jennings’ ‘Family histories and stories that made me’ is a good example of the social navigation process described above. The protagonist in this story is a second generation Canadian, and being white, has no idea that her family could have been from another country. In a school project in her social studies class on ‘The Founding of Canada,’ she first learns that Canada was founded by brave European explorers; and as she has seen her entire extended family always living in Canada, she begins her social navigation journey sitting in class and in ‘shocked silence,’ suddenly needing to ask, ‘how could my family be something other than Canadian?’ Well integrated so far, she now needs to ask the big identity questions: “what are we,” and “where we are from.” All the responses she receives from her family members seem fragmentary and inadequate. They dissatisfy her as she believes important truths about the past-pertaining to the family and to the nation- are being concealed from her. She wants to elicit these untold and missing family stories that are hard to tell, from her grandmother, before it is too late as she senses that these might contain the key to who she really is. The migration process is thus seen as a transnational socio-temporal field, an ‘archipelago’. The metaphor of the sea and of the archipelago is appropriate in conveying the fluidity and dynamism of the migrant’s social navigation. Indeed, it borrows from the story of Ulysses, and from the effective character of migration as a journey of both spatial and temporal nature where many actors and many places are involved. Social navigation is a useful heuristic tool that allows us to position the different actors and factors within a single framework.

The navigation heuristics offers the framework within which to place the migrant and her/his individual agency, the other actors that interact with her/him, notably her/his family or household that may support or indeed obstruct her/his decision (see also Belloni, 2016); the wider migration industry that provide their services to the irregular migrant to help her/him move (including smugglers, employment agencies, or employers); the enforcement and other control actors that seek to prevent her/him from moving; or indeed the third sector actors that may offer assistance during the journey or at destination. Thus, one can conceptualise the migrant’s agency as a specific capacity to navigate the migration field – the ‘archipelago’ between her/his origin and her/his intended destination.

Migration entails a special navigation capacity, as unlike normal archipelagos, this one is a moving target: the ‘islands’ notably the policies, their implementation, the stakeholders, the degrees of enforcement can change – it is as if an experienced captain prepares carefully a journey but the intermediate stops may even change position in the journey. Perhaps a little like Ulysses who, deprived of technological equipment, was unsure of whether he was going forward or moving cyclically and returning to places transited earlier. The sense that migration and the processes of social navigation manifest in a cyclical format, and that they may be understood as a moving target, can perhaps become most visible when individuals present vivid descriptions of their experiences. Khajeh, who moved to Canada as a young adult, writes a letter to her grandfather, and the narrative is about her trip back to Tehran; it starts with “I have left home again, only to arrive at my second home…once again I feel a whirl of emotions that pull my insides, emotions that I physically feel in my stomach, my throat, and the back of my eyes. I can cry any second but I don’t because I know these feelings too well, I know they won’t last but they’re never really gone either.” This story moves back and forth in time and space, sensory memory being the method and the bridge that connects the many nodal points between the past and present. Another layer can get added to this experience when the author reflects upon them; and in her reflections, presented in the Field Notes chapter, the narrator of this story describes the long process of emotional recovery from this trip back happening through the process of forgetting those sensory experiences, when replacing them with others in the new home happens. These reflections though are a key part of this internal journey as they help the narrator cope with the guilt of leaving home in the first place, and also understanding better the history of her home and also her own personal history as an immigrant.

The notion of ‘navigation’ includes both the initial stage where the migrant develops an aspiration to move, the capability to move, the resources mobilised, the journey and its different intermediary stops, the nodal points where the migrant may seek and mobilise resources to move further or the nodal points where the migrant may encounter Sirens, and Cyclops that will prevent her/him from moving further or will oblige her/him to take a different route or change the time of the journey. Such nodal points relate also to migration control and migration management policies. The notion of social navigation and the connection with the story of Ulysses and his journey fits contemporary migration understandings as these are not simply about where one wants to go and what one wants to achieve but also about who one wants to become (Collins, 2017; Bal, 2014), like Ulysses. We argue and show in this anthology that one of the ways to zoom into these liminal spaces that shape ‘who we become’ as migrants, as well as life changing decisions that need to be made by migrants when the path ahead is non-linear and unclear, may be achieved through using research methodology grounded in autoethnographic approaches, and literary and arts-based approaches. These are methods and strategies but they also go beyond that, being conceptual frameworks used to design and conduct research, and analyse data; and they are so far under-utilized in migration studies.

A crucial step in setting out from one’s port to navigate the migration archipelago is gathering information about the destination and the opportunities it offers to satisfy the migrant’s needs and wishes as well as to organise the journey. This is what Kahneman and Thaler (2006) call the anchoring of the decision to turn into action: migrants first evaluate the prospects that await them at destination and then they evaluate the hurdles to overcome in emigrating. Considering these different stages from decision to action, it is important to note that migrants operate within contexts of bounded rationality. Migrants do not simply make mathematical calculations about costs and expected earnings. They are influenced by their own desires to stay or leave, and in function of those constraints the information they receive and the choices they consider as possible courses of action (Galotti, 2007, cit. in Koikkalainen & Kyle, 2016). They thus tend to be selective in remembering past experiences (of their own or of others) and are also selective in the ways they consider their possible options (Koikkalainen & Kyle, 2016). Examples of this positive asymmetry in socio-cognitive processing can be found in Townsend and Oomen (2015) who point out that many migrants disregard information about high levels of risk in their journey believing this will not happen to them and rather focus on the positive stories that they have heard of. As Hernández-Carretero (2017) argues in her study of Senegalese emigration to Spain and return migration to Senegal, hope-filled uncertainty is preferred to hopeless certainty.

In ‘Guericco,’ Zuzarte pays tribute to her father, starting a letter to him with a eulogy. It is a long love letter that celebrates his life and the gifts he generously gave to her and to her siblings-wisdom, piety, fortitude, spirituality-and by role modelling life-skills and values that the narrator can live by in her own life. It is family history too, and while it could be a typical immigrant story, it is specifically the story of this family where we see the children (now adults) raised by hard working parents who came to Canada from Pakistan to follow their dreams of creating for the family a life with new opportunities. What transforms this ‘immigrant narrative’ into a unique story of a particular family is that this narrative helps us actually visualize how these individuals have become who they are due to the specific circumstances they experienced growing up. The reader can participate in the slice-of-life kind of resonance where the presence of a rich tapestry of still-to be-told stories can be experienced.

10 Integration

Immigrant integration has long been at the heart of sociological research and policy-making. Approaches to integration have been impregnated by normative and highly political considerations alongside pragmatic ones. We define ‘integration’ as a process, rather than an end-state, that involves phases of personal and social change among individuals, communities, and institutions (Spencer & Charsley, 2016, 2021). It affects all of society (not just immigrants), is multi-faceted (has structural, socio-economic, cultural, civic and identity dimensions), is spatially defined (happens locally but involves (trans)national linkages), and evolves with time (at different paces in different spheres).

Despite the complex and dynamic character of integration at both individual, community and whole of society levels, much of the policy debate focuses on individual migrant competences such as language learning, employment, educational attainment and relevant “migrant integration” data, without necessarily due attention to the actual process of integration (Mahendran, 2013). Migrant integration policy discourses often involve an imagination of society and the majority culture as a bounded unit to which migrants as individuals have to integrate, (often this actually implies that they should assimilate). Thus, integration requires the migrant to achieve a set of attainments in education, language and economic self-sustenance. In addition, while the policy discourse requires individuals to conform with the majority culture, their failure is attributed collectively to their minority culture that is not sufficiently “modern” (Schinkel, 2013).

Conditions for integration encompass economic, social and cultural dimensions, and it is generally agreed that integration is multi-faceted and multi-dimensional. Integration processes involve both migrants and the receiving society, while the role of the sending country is increasingly taken into consideration. In effect, as Nebiler (2013) has pointed out, sending countries may impact their expatriates’ integration in the countries of destination through formal or informal channels, and through formal and informal actors. Government actors, non-governmental organisations, churches, families and even the media may thus play a role in the integration process of the migrant in the society of settlement as well as in their transnational engagement.

Ager and Strang have formulated a framework for the processes that may facilitate integration, identifying domains in which achievement and access matter. These domains include the sectors of employment, housing, education and health, assumptions and practices regarding citizenship and rights, processes of social connection within and between groups in the community, and barriers to such connections stemming from lack of linguistic and cultural competences and from fear and instability (Ager & Strang, 2008, 184–185). In effect, integration involves the real economy and the cultural spaces, it involves the political realm, the social sphere and everyday public life. Integration measures are frequently broken down into structural and socio-cultural components. Structural indicators of integration refer to the individual situation in terms of employment and economic condition, as well as in terms of political and legal spaces opened by the legislative and institutional context at destination (political participation, regular residence and access to citizenship, etc.). The measures of the social sphere instead refer to emotional, cultural, religious and social markers of integration. Guo’s’How I became a wordsmith’ is a good example of how validation of self and finding one’s voice can lead to an enhancement in social capital and feeling a sense of empowerment and agency. In his story, Guo reflects on his transition from writing in a journalistic role to becoming a narrator ‘in my own story…I started my writing career in China, but it was in Canada where my writer identity was finally born.’ This drive emerges, in part, from within, but it is also heavily rooted in external circumstances of support networks, personal, community-based and state-funded, that are available to individuals. Personality traits that shape attitudes, for instance, having a growth mindset and the ability to be flexible and adapting too can help individuals access and create innovative opportunities for themselves.

The ‘markers’ and the ‘means’ through which integration happens tend to include the following dimensions: Education, employment, income, access to citizenship, housing, civic participation, language acquisition. These concepts and definitions of integration have been radically critiqued by Michel Wieviorka (2013) who has argued that so-called ‘models of integration’ are all failing, while authors such as Thomas Faist (2013) have proposed that integration, multiculturalism and transnationalism should be seen as interrelated rather than as mutually exclusive models. As migrants’ transnational engagement has intensified and transnational lifestyles have emerged, destination countries have begun to consider alternative integration models (Pitkänen et al., 2012).In such a scenario of shifting sands where mobility and transnationalism have become compelling contemporary paradigms within migrancy, how can such perspectives shape the big picture of policy and practices around integration, both from emigrant and immigrant perspectives?

The narrator in da Costa’s ‘Going home (twice)’ voices several dilemmas when thinking from an either-or perspective. Recounting all that she misses that’s part of her first home-the warmth of the tropics and the sea breeze, close friends back in Rio she can no longer relate to in the same easy way, and most important, as she notes, “I miss home because home is who I am.” She acknowledges though that the act of migration and living internationally has changed her in significant ways, and that she struggles now with belonging in both home and host countries, speaking both English and Portuguese in a broken fashion, “unable to fully claim any language as my own.” The emotions inherent in “neither here nor there” conundrum though do not necessarily come from a dark place for her; they are part of the roller coaster ride she’s taking where she can say with some ease, “how lucky are we, to have two places to run away to, and to run away from.” The note the story ends on is forward looking rather than nostalgic, as she takes active ownership of her decisions and her ongoing journey: “The sound of the wind is pointing to a new direction, new possibilities to follow and new ways of life to pursue. I’m divided in two, each half separated by 111225.83 km. I never want to become whole again.”

The power of personal storytelling and creative writing though, lies in the ability of these genres to present not only a unique experience and point of view, but it can also take a deep dive into emotional terrain, with focus on how individuals ‘actually’ experience the nuances of their self-perceptions (and understandings) related to who they are and where they are. This kind of ‘truth-telling,’ when presented through story, can be likened to the shake of the kaleidoscope that reveals a never-before- seen view of experiential reality; leading in turn to helping migration narratives break free of any conceptual notions of ‘generalised’ ways of representing migration journeys as being part of one trajectory or another, or being in any way, ‘typical,’ or ‘atypical.’ One of the stories in this collection that highlights the second-generation experience of integration for the protagonist in their own ethnic communities as well as in the broader Canadian society is: Eyes and ‘I.’ The challenges of making sense of it all through reflections and analysis while still being very much in the midst of so many paradoxes, discomforts, and dissonances is communicated powerfully, when for instance, Young shares her story: “Remember when I felt confused when Mom pronounced fillings as feelings? There was nothing incorrect about this belief in itself. I genuinely believed for the longest time that she meant feelings as the key missing step needed to make dumplings. And when seeing family (friends) from Brazil, Mom got us to practice giving two to three air kisses to anyone we visited, it was also a way of opening ourselves with affection to people we just met.” She goes on to reflect on her experience: “Growing up without living grandparents added to the anxiety of navigating life, of navigating between differing cultural worlds. Wading into this uncertainty has allowed me to see values in welcoming and befriending the strengths of opportunities that reality offers. The only way for 筷子 (kuaizi) (chopsticks) to work at once is when one is static, and the other is moving.”

Both in terms of content and in form, when authors in this volume share their personal lived experiences of carrying multiple identities, situated in family history and reflected in their growing up experiences with their families and in their communities, the vivid presence of embodied memory communicates the sense of who they are, as well as the swings between the joys and the struggles of belonging (and unbelonging) during their growing up years.

11 Exclusion, Xenophobia and Racism

These themes-racism and xenophobia, exclusion and marginalization -and discriminatory behaviours that emanate from them-are often pervasive in the scenarios that shape everyday lives of individuals who have an immigrant background. These negative perceptions and hurtful gestures do not only adversely impact newcomers or recent immigrants and refugees, but they also persist in the lives of those who carry immigrant histories or ancestry. Lightman and Gingrich (2013) summarise social exclusion as systemic processes that “(re) produce and justify economic, spatial, socio-political, and subjective divides (ensuring) denial of effective exchange of one’s abilities, thus cutting off avenues for upward mobility, leading to an uneven playing field” (124). Some obvious reasons for exclusionary biases that individuals experience stem primarily from skin colour, race and ethnicity, as well as foreign-sounding accents; and these in fact target the very heart of the matter, i.e., an individual’s sense of identity (who they are), often leading to emotions of displacement and permanent un-belonging. In Richards’ ‘Journey through the self,’- a story that grapples with being Black and feeling excluded due to the colour of her skin- the narrator struggles with her thick 4c hair, and with inadequacy, lack of self-esteem, even loss of a sense of self as she sees herself through the eyes of others. While born in Canada, but being labelled as ‘Jamaican-Canadian’ or Canadian of Jamaican descent, or straight-up Caribbean, she feels displaced and lost, confused about who she ‘really’ is. This impacts her personality and her relationships, even with Black men who expect her to be Black in certain stereotypical ways, “I find myself becoming more sceptical and non-trusting, and I may even have become a bit delusional, creating narratives from a stunted glance, a change in body language, or the slightest adjustment in intonation,” she reflects.

Other stories explore intersectional identity frames that create complex everyday contexts for exclusionary outcomes, as in Hui’s personal essay “written with love, and as an act to memorialise my dear friend, mentor, peer, colleague, Derek Yee, so that his legacy as a poz POC activist will not be forgotten.” This essay highlights the vulnerabilities experienced by BIPOC people living with Acquired Immuno-deficiency Syndrome (AIDS), a global pandemic that affects 38 million globally. Wearing his poz (positive) and Undetectable identity proudly, and in his activist-identity, Hui always finds opportunities for telling difficult personal stories as a way to inform and educate the broader community about challenges faced by his community: “My conviction to engage in this writing is to make space for stories of others like myself, racialized queer poz settlers, whose passion and contributions to the HIV/AIDS response on this stolen land would otherwise be erased. This is particularly important as the COVID-19 pandemic has further deprioritized HIV/AIDS as a global pandemic which one would rarely hear about in the news unless during the Pride season or around World AIDS Day.” Further, as the COVID-19 pandemic has clearly highlighted, it is the lives of racialised immigrants, refugees, and newcomers worldwide that have been most disrupted by border closures and by social exclusion and inequities (Boris, 2022; Triandafyllidou, 2020). Due to the precarities of their temporary migrant status, or other factors like financial instabilities due to working in low wage jobs, they have needed to bear the burden of unsafe essential health care and retail work while the more privileged population groups have had the freedom and resources to work from home.

Moreover, although immigration policies in Canada and internationally have gone through major upheavals since the COVID-19 pandemic, and they have tried to accommodate the needs of vulnerable groups, like, international students, temporary foreign workers and refugees, the objective has been to primarily keep the economy going through utilising the labour contributions of these cohorts. Many of these groups, including racialized and indigenous women, asylum seekers and the undocumented, have become more precarious, or have been simply left out due to the temporariness in measures being applied in addressing issues that are systemic. For example, these problems and processes-like time lags, temporary fixes, and failure to use these emergency COVID-19 times to solve long standing issues in Canada that foreign trained health care professionals or temporary foreign workers face- also reveal embedded racist and discriminatory biases. Some of these prejudices have manifested in the lack of political will to really solve these longstanding complex issues even though the pandemic has made clear how indispensable these precarious and temporary workers are to deliver essential services at this time.

More covert forms of discrimination come in the form of attitudes and behaviours that stereotype and broad-brush individuals on the basis of certain identity traits that members of dominant racial groups see in them. These ways of ‘seeing’ people, based on assumptions made about them-because of factors like their race and religion, culture and appearance- in turn lead to othering and exclusion. One of the dangers these ‘single’ stories pose is that due to continued reiteration, individuals internalise them, and this too negatively impacts their sense of self. The writings explore real and imagined stories of encountering stereotypical behaviours, of being ‘seen’ through the prisms of others’ assumptions rather than in the multiple and simultaneous identities that their self- construction sees as more authoritative. Triandafyllidou’s experience with her son’s teacher, or the comment of the real estate agent provide some rather common examples of how one can be made to feel ‘foreigner’. Damiano’s story, ‘Making a Place for Our Selves: A Story about Longing, Relationships, and the Search for Home,’ that centres to a large extent on her (Italian) immigrant father and the playhouse he built for his children in Canada when they were growing up, also amplifies many more complex and interconnected realities experienced by immigrant families in the everyday. For instance, it highlights the impacts that pre-migration lives, expectations, and relationships can have on individuals and their families, and how these can shape their entire lives in a new country post-migration; or the dichotomies that exist between the two worlds based on the differences between cultures, languages, and faith systems, and the disruptive effects of mismatched emotions individuals may experience around such issues. The second-generation immigrant (narrator) in the story struggles to make sense of the contradictions she feels at an emotional level, “People saw my dad as a manual labourer, but he’s more like an artist (or writer), making new worlds out of old ones, creating a place for himself in the process. Watching him lay bricks, he seemed truly at home, despite the fact he slept in the trailer. The last home he owned was with my mother when I was eleven, the second of two houses that my maternal grandparents helped to finance after my two sisters were born.”

Perhaps the stories in this collection will show the reader how subtle and urgent the personal experiences of racism, xenophobia, social exclusion and sexism can be, and that they have many faces. These can range from overt biases to microaggressions that may be understood or expressed only through silences; but they can still lead to anger and lack of self, mental health troubles and disruptions in families and communities; to a sense of forever feeling inauthentic, or an outsider. Damiano’s portrayal of her father, and by extension, her self-portrayal too, may be somewhat communicated through the following, “Maybe what my father wanted was not a house at all, not a place that belonged to him, but rather a place that felt like the home he longed for, a place where he felt he belonged. Maybe the dream of the family home never materialized because it was connected to a time and place in his imagination and forever beyond his grasp.”

12 Return and Re-migration

Return migration has been a key concept in migration studies and was initially seen as the endpoint of the migration project (Gmelch, 1980). However more recent studies have pointed to the complex character of return, reintegration, and the dynamics of remigration and circulation (Kuschminder, 2017a, b; Gemi & Triandafyllidou, 2021) suggesting that return should be seen as an episode in the wider migration cycle. Thilo et al. (2016) in particular have investigated the return and reintegration patterns of European migrants within Europe, exploring specifically the motivations for return and the concept of ‘return readiness’, notably whether people were prepared for that return, whether materially or emotionally.

Despite the wealth of research pointing to the complex realities of return – prepared, voluntary, or abrupt and forced return, by choice, by opportunity, or by necessity – policy thinking has been fixed on two opposed views of return. One is return as ‘success’: migrants have achieved their aims, completed their project, and are returning to their ‘home’ country. The second is return as failure: migrants are forcibly (or voluntarily) returned to their country of origin (or last country of transit) because they do not have the right to stay. In the policy discourse, return is somehow the opposite of mobility and ambivalence: it brings the migrant back to their ‘natural’ situation of being in their ‘homeland’ where they ‘belong’; or, it re-establishes order and security as it forcibly removes those who do not have the right to reside in a given destination country. The perspective adopted here is different, we explore the nuances of real or imagined return.

Recent research on return and remigration in south-eastern Europe (Loizou et al., 2014; Maroukis & Gemi, 2013; King, 2018; Gemi & Triandafyllidou, 2021) points to the need of further developing an analytical framework within which to make sense of return in a context of increased and more fluid migration in twenty-first-century Europe (Triandafyllidou, 2017). We conceptualise return as part of the wider mobility process in which the migrants engage. Return is seen as one dot in a non-linear course that may include multiple emigration and return sections as well as remigration (whether to the same destination country or to third countries). In our analytical framework reintegration is not necessarily about sedentarity; it is not about staying put and not emigrating again. Rather we conceptualise preparedness (for return) and reintegration as two processes that ‘frame’ return since preparedness precedes it and reintegration follows it; and in that sense, these factors condition further decisions of staying in the country of origin or remigrating. We see reintegration as a separate dimension from intentions of remigration. A successful reintegration may be a precursor to a new migration project rather than a factor for staying as it allows the migrant to gather both material and social resources. At the same time a failed reintegration may be a factor discouraging remigration because of lack of resources – or, of course, it may be a driver for remigration because of the lack of prospects at the country of origin. In other words, the relationship between return, reintegration, and remigration is more complex than has been argued thus far.

Several stories in this book speak of return although by definition our contributors are at destination rather than at origin. Khajeh speaks openly about return as she tried to return and then found her ‘homeland’ as inhospitable to her and decided then to leave ‘for good’. Her imaginary dialogue with her deceased grandfather exemplifies this dialogical relationship with the homeland that is longed for but has now passed, is no longer there. Triandafyllidou also notes her challenges of returning to Greece for a period, after 15 years abroad, and the realisation that after migrating you are never ‘at home’ in one place but rather you have multiple ‘homelands’. Baksh too speaks of return and this feeling of alienation and warmth at the same time. While her return is only a temporary one, like da Costa’s too in her visit to Brazil, they both debate about the redefinition of destination and origin and the real and imaginary returns and remigrations that one performs.

13 Conclusion

In conclusion, when it comes to personal storytelling then, it can often be difficult to delineate clear themes and to highlight points of focus in a narrative as so many little ‘life stories’ tend to crisscross and become braided together in a lived experience story. We share excerpts and insights from three stories as examples of the way self-narratives about lived experience have used creative writing in this edited collection to open a-slice-life window through which we can see and understand the migration experience ‘differently’ than we might from conventional research studies that use qualitative research methods.

For example, although Liou, author of ‘My Taiwanese Mom Peaches,’ who self-identifies as a Buddhist and who comes to Canada on a student visa, hers is by no means ‘the story’ of an international student. In her narrative, through explorations of her fractious and conflicted relationship with Peaches, her mom back in Taiwan, Liou also shares with the reader a detailed snapshot of her life from the past that reveals not just her personal history, but it is also a vivid account of the sociological and political contexts of the time in which she came of age; as well as the difficult life and times her family members lived through in Taiwan for longer than half a century. Further, this story is a narrative about her parents’ upbringing, and the conservative values that shaped the punitive parenting she experienced. Through the story, the reader can peep into a window into Liou’s own lived realities and beliefs that emerged from the interwoven fabric of her life at the time-conflicts she was able to resolve, and dreams she could pursue in Canada when she came here as a graduate student. She writes: “My 80-year-old dad said he could not see me off at the airport when I visited them in Miaoli before coming to Canada in 2019. But he took me to the Highspeed Rail Station. When we pulled over in front of the Station, my 72-year-old mom asked me when I got out of the car, ‟Did you bring your phone, keys, wallet, and water bottle?” Before, I would have talked back to her without thinking, ‟Stop nagging! Of course, I did!” But at that moment, I felt as though I had been hit by an electric blast. I paused and said to her, ‟Yes. I’ve got everything. Thank you, mom.” Then I got out of the car and gave her and dad a big hug. I walked into the station and waited for the train to come. I could not stop my tears. It turned out that accepting mom’s care is such a happy thing to do. Why didn’t I see mom’s kindness earlier? Why did I stop mom’s love for me?”

Javaher’s story, ‘Things lost, things not lost, and the ones that were found on the way,’ is another moving story- about the migration journey to Canada a teenage woman undertakes with her family, carrying with her a secret box full of memories and longings; the box also contains a collection of mundane objects that signify for her not just her relationship with her best friend but the entirely of her life in Iran. She writes: “Leaving Tehran, and my friends, especially Leili, was never my choice. I never believed that some random place on the globe that I had only seen pictures of could have been better than the life we already had here at home. No one ever asked me whether or not I wanted to leave, and now I had to leave everything behind that I loved, and that felt like home. Among the long list of the ‘things’ that “immigration law” would not permit us to take with us, according to our family lawyer, was my grandmother. Although such an important part of our family, she could not receive a permit to travel with us. Too many obvious and subtle changes had already transformed the essence of our life ever since my parents started their immigration project and because we are going to Canada- a phrase I had heard a million times in the recent months and had hated every bit of it.” For her, the start of her young new life in Canada seems to her already marred before it can begin, by a mishap with her secret box, and she ends her story in the following painful words: “My Tehran is so thinly dispersed on that security desk that I cannot pick her up as my hands could only catch the bigger objects. I take the box with me, and I leave behind about half a million feelings and memories in the particles of my childhood garden’s dust that remain on top of the white security desk and are destined to be wiped off. This is the last time I cry, as a teenage woman, on the soil of Tehran.”

Finally, Kumar’s story, ‘My PhD life, and Connecting the Dots between Here and There….’ is a reflective personal essay told in an autoethnographic mode. Using the metaphor of boundary-crossing, and the PhD journey as a key experience in her life-not only at a personal level but also one that highlights structural challenges in systems of higher education- the author connects the dots between the past and the present. In addition to being about serendipity, and finding personal and professional joys that can become the inspiration that carry us forward, this is a migration story too. Kumar writes about her migration journey, “I came to Canada as a ‘trailing spouse, and although I was the principal applicant for permanent residency, the process took so many years that eventually my partner got a job offer before our family application for permanent residence was approved; and we moved to Canada on his work permit. As it turned out, I switched categories, transitioning to ‘becoming’ an international student when I decided to go back to school. Although immigration policies are structured pathways through which to streamline cross border ebbs and flows, they impact lives of individuals and families in different configurations. They play out in unique and specific ways in the lives of immigrants and are not always straightforward, just as integration is a non-linear process that does not follow the path of a straight line.”

The collective journey that all of us- contributors to this volume-have walked on together through participating in the StOries Project, has been not only an experiential and safe learning space; it has also transported us to a place of togetherness and passionate commitment. We will always remember the joyful times we spent together in virtual settings during our momentous pandemic times, sharing our personal stories, tears and laughter. It is a leap of faith too as through this work and this volume our objective is also to disrupt current paradigms and conspire together to create some new and additional ways of thinking about and doing migration related work. This edited collection is a collective and collaborative product, co-created through all the contributors working, thinking and writing together. We hope, above all, that our stories will resonate with you, and that our unique and many voices will be that bridge that connects you to us. We also hope that our stories will inspire you to gather together and tell your own.