My name is Val Chacon, and I am a second-generation Chilean refugee who arrived in the UK at the age of 6 due to the Pinochet military dictatorship. Sadly, both of my parents are now deceased, and I attended this conference for personal reasons—to piece together fragments of my family's intense and convoluted history.
Our journey from Chile to Scotland after the coup, shaped my early life. We moved around frequently due to my father’s mining jobs, and in 1972, we ended up in Santiago, where he secured work in a factory. As trade union members and supporters of the popular unity government, both my father and my mother, experienced the disruptive impact of the 1973 coup. This led to my father's arrest and our family's eventual escape to Argentina, marked by a disturbing and bloody exit.
Marion Henriquez and Val before their departure from Argentina, 1976
In San Miguel, Argentina, we lived in an ex-convent refugee camp, suffering overcrowding and violent flare-ups. Our transition to the UK was disorientating, compounded by my mother's undiagnosed Aspergers, leaving much unexplained and adding to our perpetual disorientation. After weeks in various lodgings, including a boarded, burnt-out old house, we found a permanent home in dilapidated tenement buildings in Dundee.
Val and her brother outside the tenement buildings in Lochee, Dundee, 1978
Life in Lochee, Dundee, brought new challenges as we encountered racism and violence, including gang-victimisation in a racist, mono-cultural environment. Known as ‘Little Tipperary’ due to Irish migration, Lochee stood as one of the most deprived communities, not just in Dundee but across Scotland. Skinhead gangs controlled the housing schemes, leading to self-imposed curfews among Chileans and other minorities who were relentlessly attacked and abused.
My mother, Marion Henriquez, once a proud factory worker, endured racist abuse that shattered her confidence. The oppressive atmosphere in our damp tenement building led to years of poor health and escalating estate violence resulting in hospitalisations. In the midst of these hardships, I harboured resentment toward those involved in our resettlement, oblivious to the fact that it was not a centrally-run scheme, but, rather self-funded political groups undertaking the arduous task of individually knocking on council doors to secure accommodation for refugee families.
This conference not only enlightened me about the immense challenges faced by those aiding Chilean resettlement but also provided a platform to hear powerful personal testimonies from fellow-travellers. The unique atmosphere fostered a shared narrative and provided a natural form of restorative justice. Engaging in conversations with panel members and participants alike was profoundly moving.
On a personal note, as a non-partisan activist and writer, I was reminded of the critical roles that academia and the charity sector play in policy-advising. Support networks are vital not only for effective resettlement, but also for empowering refugees to actively engage in their communities.
Integration, as highlighted in this conference, is a serious endeavour requiring not just ideals but, in my view, comprehensive, cross-party collaboration tied into governmental resettlement schemes. It's a lifelong commitment to creating environments where refugees can deeply connect with, and contribute to their citizenship throughout their lives.
Reflecting on the discussions and insights shared during this conference, I extend my heartfelt gratitude to Tanya Harmer, Max Smith, and all the organizers. They provided a space that not only illuminated the historical backdrop of the Chilean coup, but also addressed the challenges of resettlement, sparking conversations crucial for fostering a more inclusive and compassionate society. Thank you for the opportunity to share and connect on this significant occasion.
Val at Harris Academy Secondary School, Dundee, 1982/3