My parents were immigrants to this country. They arrived with little but hope, fleeing a homeland and moving away from their families because staying meant risking everything. They didn’t come looking for handouts. They came to work, to contribute, and to raise their children in peace. And in doing so, they built something lasting – not just for our family, but for New Zealand.
Their story isn’t rare. In fact, it’s the kind of quiet, determined journey that has helped shape this nation for generations. And yet, when immigration becomes a topic of public debate – as it so often does – it’s easy to forget the people behind the policies. The lives being lived. The value being added.
Just the other day, I received a new passport. That might sound mundane, but it sparked something unexpected. Despite being born and raised in New Zealand, this passport wasn’t marked with the familiar silver fern. Instead, it was burgundy, stamped in a language I cannot even read: Passport of Hungary.
My parents fled Hungary after the failed 1956 revolution, two of just over a thousand refugees granted entry to New Zealand at the time. They didn’t bring wealth or influence. They brought determination. They assimilated quickly, like many immigrants of that era, which is why my siblings and I grew up thoroughly Kiwi. We never learned the language. We barely learned the history. Beyond a few colourful Hungarian swear words (widely regarded as some of the best in the world), we were raised to fit in.
So how did someone brought up a full-blooded Kiwi end up holding a Hungarian passport? It’s a long story, but that moment holding it in my hands – awkward, unfamiliar, incongruous, even – reminded me how immigration shapes identity in ways both subtle and profound.
New Zealand in the 1950s was a monocultural society. Today, it is something very different: a modern melting pot. That change, for some, can feel uncomfortable. And yet, if you look closely, it becomes clear – our diversity isn’t weakening our identity. It’s deepening it.
Consider Silas and Alli, two New Yorkers who chose to make their home near Westport. They left behind the bustle of home and all that they knew for the rugged charm of the West Coast. But they didn’t just settle. They committed. They started a successful business that employs locals. They volunteer. They mentor. They show up for their community – not because they had to, but because they want to. Because this is home. They are all that we’d like to think a Kiwi should be – hardy, handy, humble. They really are beautiful people.
Their story isn’t a takeover. It’s a contribution.
It’s easy to ask, “Why do we need [insert the targeted nationality du jour] running businesses in New Zealand?” But that question misses the point. Silas and Alli didn’t take anything away. They added something new. Their presence strengthens their community – economically, culturally, and socially.
And that’s true of so many who’ve chosen to make Aotearoa their home.
We often reduce immigration to numbers: how many, how fast, how much it costs. But behind every number is a person – a person who’s taken a leap of faith to start over, often with nothing but their skills and their determination to build a life.
People like my parents. People like Silas and Alli. Quietly and consistently, they add value. They raise families, pay taxes, open businesses, teach our children, nurse our sick, enrich our culture.
This doesn’t mean every policy is perfect, or that change doesn’t require effort and understanding on all sides. But it does mean we need to move beyond the idea that newcomers threaten what we have. More often than not, they strengthen it.
That Hungarian passport reminded me of something I’d nearly forgotten: where we come from matters, yes – but what matters more is what we bring, what we build, and how we show up in the place we choose to call home.
New Zealand isn’t losing itself in diversity. It’s finding new ways to thrive through it. Immigration isn’t about erasing identity. It’s about expanding it – welcoming more people who care deeply about this place, and who want to give back to it.
So let’s stop seeing immigration as a problem to be solved. Let’s start seeing it as an opportunity to grow. Because when we do, we might just find that the newcomers among us aren’t strangers. They’re already part of the story.
