I’m an immigrant. I first came to the UK as a history of art student on the Erasmus programme in 1998 and embraced the opportunities I was given living in a diverse city like Leicester. I returned to Ponferrada, northern Spain, but came back to Britain soon after to build my life and my career here. I studied for my master’s and PhD, benefiting from the open and integrated approach of UK academia. I have always appreciated the UK’s multicultural society, one which – as we are reminded when taking the “Life in the UK” test – doesn’t allow discrimination, will not tolerate any forms of extremism, embraces cultural diversity, and respects and praises the contributions of migrants.

In recent months, however, popular narratives have increasingly vilified and stigmatised people like me, creating friction between migrants and natives, and attempting to open up divisions between those who have come to this country from different areas. These narratives, driven by certain sections of the media, are creating a sense of hostility. We are now openly blamed for everything that is wrong in Britain, from the traffic to the state of public services. This comes accompanied with micro-aggressions and an increase in the number of hate crimes.

In this climate, I believe it is crucial not to divide EU and non-EU migrants. Because of my place of origin, I have had the right of movement, of work and residency, which I did not need to request, unlike my non-EU friends and colleagues. This may well be about to change, but my status as a migrant does not. I have always been a migrant, and I have always felt I was a migrant, perhaps because I was told “Paki go home” from a moving car as I was walking down the street, or because a conversation on the phone with my Mum gave somebody the opportunity to tell me “We voted for you to go home”.

But Britain is home. I have even adopted stereotypical British behaviour. When I am back in Spain I find myself queueing, in true British fashion, thanking the bus driver for the ride and establishing conversations with strangers about the weather.

This is why I became involved in the organisation of today’s One Day Without Us, a national initiative to highlight the contribution of all migrants to the UK. I have always stressed that the organisation is about all migrants. I have corrected people trying to connect it to Brexit, or those using the campaign to fulfil a political agenda. This campaign is not about politics, it is about people – celebrating the contribution of all of us, regardless of where we were born or how long we have been here. I cannot emphasise this enough.

In Leicester there will be a series of events today, culminating in a vigil in Town Hall Square supported by a diverse group of performers and speakers from the city. It is a day for sharing stories, sharing experiences, sharing food and sharing photographs.

One Day Without Us is moving away from emphasising the economic benefits of migration (the fact that generally we are a young workforce contributing to the UK’s economy and financing public services). Instead we want to remind British people of our social and cultural input, one naturalised as British, and is therefore too often forgotten or taken for granted.

This can be seen in all aspects of British life, from local markets, restaurants, clothing, films and TV shows, musical styles and rhythms, as well as curry and even the Friday fish and chips (a Portuguese import). In my home city of Leicester, the football club could not have won the Premier League last season without its Italian manager Claudio Ranieri and a host of foreign players. More generally, immigration has brought the UK’s society into contact with different cultures and ways of thinking, enabling knowledge exchange and thus scientific and technological advance.

Today we want to remind everyone in the UK that migrants are your doctors and nurses, your teachers and taxi drivers, as well as your favourite chefs and musicians, sportspeople and fashion designers. Many of the people you encounter and enjoy talking to on a daily basis, when waiting for a bus or queueing for coffee, are migrants.

One Day Without Us aims to reflect on and celebrate what we all have in common, and that is so much greater than that which divides us. We should not be afraid to say that to stand together is better than to stand apart.