It was 24 March when I found out I was getting a renewed lease on my life in the UK. I had been given the gift of time – a gift I never expected to come about as a result of a global pandemic.

I had already lost hundreds of pounds on a non-refundable visa application, sent an insane amount of emails and had an exhausting amount of phone calls. I had pulled in every single favour, asked every question, explored every option, but I was still due to be deported back to the US.

When coronavirus began shutting down borders worldwide, it had an unexpected positive impact on people like me – an extension to my expired visa.

I moved to the UK when I was 17, and I’ve spent my entire adult life here. I’m 23 now, but it truly feels like the UK is the only home I know. It’s where I have my business, my friends, and a great deal of my family.

And yet staying here has been almost bizarrely impossible for me. Despite having a British grandfather (meaning I would be able to apply for a UK Ancestry visa if I was from a Commonwealth country) and having my self-employed business here – including publicly funded work – the UK gave me few opportunities to stay.

Visit our live blog for the latest updates: Coronavirus news live

One by one, the options started falling through.

I had even applied to Arts Council England for a promising talent visa, the same organisation that had funded my work in theatre. In what seemed like cruel irony, they denied both me and my work partner’s visas, making it impossible to carry out the very work that they had just funded us for.

I wasn’t about to abandon my entire creative enterprise to get a standard work visa, nor was one even realistic in my industry. With every other avenue blocking me, I was forced to start packing.

My visa expiration date was 27 April and as the days got closer, my dread quickened. It felt like my whole world was crumbling down around me.

It could’ve been worse. I’m from California originally; a location I’ve found to be incredibly over-glamourised in the UK. But as a gay man from a hyper-religious, Trump-crazed rural community back in America, returning home wasn’t entirely ideal for me.

Not to mention, I don’t have health insurance in the US, and the terror of being there without health insurance during a global pandemic was, frankly, overwhelming.

When the virus headlines began rolling out, I started pleading with the UK to let me stay, but all I got was radio silence. Until, one day, they announced plans to let immigrants stay until the 31 May.

Considering I am still working in the UK and I still have my apartment for another year, it was the best news I had received amongst a flurry of defeat after defeat in trying to stay here.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not grateful to the coronavirus. It’s a horrible, horrific thing that has happened, and I wish it hadn’t; but the extra time it’s given me has honestly changed my life.

I’m able to stay and continue my work for at least a little longer. Not to mention having some time to figure out my next plan of action, whether that’s moving to another country or trying a different route to stay in the UK, like going back to school for my Masters.

That said, as grateful as I am for the extra time, I’m aware that this time is borrowed and that brings its own blanket of anxiety.

Boris Johnson’s government hasn’t said anything about what happens after 31 May for people in my situation. Do I have to leave on that date, or a day later? What about the fact that the pandemic is still raging in my home country, which is now the worst hit country in the world?

The coronavirus helpline that the Home Office set up assured me over the phone that I’m not an illegal overstayer, but they never even confirmed my formal visa ‘extension’ – something I applied for the first day they announced it.

When I initially applied for the extension, they told me they’d inform me about their decision within five days, but they never did. This led to all kinds of panic.

Now, if I have to leave on 31 May, I’ll have to buy flights last minute; something I’m not even sure I’ll be able to afford.

My last deportation flights weren’t properly refunded either, nor was my visa application. This has left my financial situation in a pretty dire state. Not to mention, because the borders in the US are still closed and I’ll be funnelled into specific airports, I’m not even sure how I’d get home.

Even if I managed it, I’d have to quarantine for 14 days, and that would mean putting my vulnerable family at risk, including my elderly grandmother, asthmatic sister, and disabled father. 

I think that the UK government owes it to immigrants like myself to communicate better with us, and to let us know in advance what our options are. Right now I am living in a world of anxiety-filled unknowns.

I feel like I’m Schrodinger’s immigrant. My visa has expired, yet I’m still legally here.

The UK says they want my business, but have made it almost impossible to retain. They value my art, and in the same moment refuse to let me stay because of it.

They’re also advising me to stay at home, and yet also telling me I have to leave the only home I know after 31 May, with the pandemic still raging outside.

I don’t know what my future holds, but I hope I get answers soon. And no matter what happens, I’m going to keep fighting for my life here.

Do you have a story you’d like to share? Get in touch by emailing [email protected]

Share your views in the comments below.

Source: Read Full Article