Let's just put it out there. Before we booked our flights, before we packed our bags, and certainly before we told our extended family our plans, my wife and I had one question that loomed larger than all the others.

It wasn't about the cost. It wasn't about the rain. It wasn't even about whether our kids (ages 3 and 5) could handle the long flight.

The question was: Is it safe for us?

As a multiracial American family, safety isn't just about pickpockets or crossing the street. It's about how we will be perceived. How we will be treated. Whether we will be welcome. We had seen the headlines about Brexit. We had heard the stories about rising nationalism in Europe.

Honest admission: This was our biggest concern. And if you are reading this, I'm guessing it's yours too.

We spent three months traveling across England—living like locals, taking public transport, and navigating schools and playgrounds. Here is the honest, unvarnished truth about what we actually experienced.

I distinctly remember late nights spent doomscrolling on my phone, searching terms like "racism in UK vs US" and "safety for families of color in England." You find a mixed bag online, which usually leaves you more anxious than when you started.

We had family members who loved us ask, "Are you sure that's a good idea right now? Have you seen the news?"

In the US, we have developed a certain armor. We know which neighborhoods to avoid. We know the look on someone's face that means we should leave. We carry a low-level hypervigilance that is just part of parenting black and brown children in America. Our fear was that we would travel 4,000 miles only to trade one set of racial anxieties for another—potentially worse—set.

Zach's Real Talk

We almost just went to London. The fear of exposing our daughters to hostility in a foreign country where we had no support network was paralyzing. If you are feeling that hesitation right now, I validate you. It is a rational fear for families like ours.

We landed in London, tired and jet-lagged, dragging children and suitcases into a taxi. We were bracing ourselves. We expected the "London Stare" or the cold shoulder.

Instead, something confusing happened.

A woman at the hotel looked at us. I tightened up, ready for a comment. She smiled. "Your daughters are absolutely beautiful," she said. "And so well behaved!"

I blinked. "Thank you," I said, unsure if this was a one-off.

Later that week, in Hathersage, another parent struck up a conversation while our kids played. No "Where are you really from?" questions. Just... "How old are they?" and "Do you like the playground?"

My wife and I looked at each other in the Airbnb that night. "Is this... normal?" we asked.

It wasn't a fluke. Over 90 days, we traveled from London to Oxford, up to Sheffield, the Peak District, Carlisle, and York. We waited for the other shoe to drop. It never really did.

We noticed a pattern of genuine warmth that caught us off guard. It wasn't just tolerance; it felt like acceptance. Whether we were in a diverse neighborhood in London or a smaller town in the north, the prevailing attitude was polite curiosity or genuine friendliness.

In the US, we are used to being "on." You know what I mean—that energy you spend scanning a room, ensuring your kids are behaving perfectly so they don't attract negative attention. In the UK, about three weeks in, I realized my shoulders had dropped about two inches. That "on" switch had flickered off.

"Safety isn't just about crime statistics—it's about feeling seen, respected, and welcome. And in the UK, for the first time in a long time, we felt all three."

When people ask about our experience, I often tell them about what didn't happen.

The ambient racial tension that hums in the background of our daily lives in the States was... quiet. It was an absence of negativity that felt incredibly heavy only once we realized it was gone.

My wife said it best one evening after a day out in Edinburgh: "I didn't realize how much energy I spend being 'on' until I was allowed to be 'off' here."

Even our kids noticed. Our 5-year-old, totally unprompted, said, "People are nice here." Kids pick up on energy better than adults do. She felt safe.

Now, I need to be responsible here. I am not saying the UK is a post-racial utopia. It isn't. Racism exists everywhere, and the UK has its own deep-seated issues with race, class, and immigration.

The concerns about Brexit and nationalism are real. We spoke to Black British families who told us about the struggles they face within the school systems and workplaces. We also acknowledge our privilege: we are Americans. We have resources. When people hear our American accents, we are often placed in a different "box" than immigrants from Africa or the Caribbean.

However, the manifestation of racism felt different than in the US. It felt less prone to immediate violence or confrontation in public spaces. As visitors, we felt safer walking down the street at night in London than we do in many suburbs back home.

We lived normal lives. We went to Tesco and Sainsbury's. We rode buses. We went to soft plays (indoor playgrounds).

Public Transport: In Manchester and beyond, people jumped up to help us with strollers. I mean, literally jumped up. No one sighed or rolled their eyes because we were taking up space.

Playgrounds: This is usually a stress point for me. But in the UK, parents chatted with us. Kids played with our kids. Race didn't seem to be the barrier to entry that it can be in segregated playgrounds in the US.

If you follow our journey, you know I fell in love with Sheffield. There is a saying that "people in the North are friendlier," and in our experience, this was fairly true. People in the south are as well, but are somewhat more reserved for reasons I will explore in another article. 

Sheffield is a city of sanctuary. It felt incredibly diverse, but integrated in a way that felt natural. We walked everywhere. We ate at the food halls. We felt... at home. If we were to move to the UK permanently, Sheffield would be toward the top of the list.

I love my country, but I hate the fear I feel there. The exhaustion of hypervigilance is real. In the US, my wife and I have had "the talk" about safety protocols with each other. In the UK, we found ourselves letting our kids run a little further ahead on the sidewalk.

Before we left for the UK, we set up our international data with Tello so we'd have connectivity the moment we landed for safety reasons. We managed our money with Wise to avoid banking issues. We prepared for everything to go wrong. But the one thing we couldn't prepare for was how right it would feel.

We booked a lot of our trip using Expedia, treating it as a test run. That test run proved that a different baseline of anxiety is possible.

The answer is an honest, resounding Yes. But with caveats.

Every city has a different vibe. London is diverse, has amazing food, but busy. The countryside can be less diverse (though we still felt welcomed, although we have heard to be careful some places). You need to research your specific area. You need to know what you are looking for.

If you are an American multiracial family looking for a break from the specific weight of US racial dynamics, the UK offers a breath of fresh air. It is not perfect, but for us, it was healing.

Considering a move or an extended trip but have specific safety concerns? I can write blog posts all day, but nothing beats talking it through.

We offer personalized guidance for families considering moving abroad, including safety concerns, neighborhood recommendations, and cultural adjustment strategies.

We can walk you through the neighborhoods we loved, the school options, and the real talk about what to expect as a multiracial family.

Book a 1-on-1 Consultation Call

We went to the UK looking for adventure, but we found something more important: peace of mind. We realized that the knot of anxiety in our stomachs wasn't a permanent condition—it was environmental. And environments can be changed.

If you are standing on the edge of this decision, wondering if it's safe to jump: The water is fine. Actually, it's better than fine. It's welcoming. And in Scotland, it's perfect for tea.

In our experience, it is less overt and violent. While systemic issues exist, the day-to-day interactions were significantly warmer and less hostile than our average US experience.

London is incredibly diverse. Bristol and Manchester are also major hubs. However, we found Sheffield to be the hidden gem—diverse, friendly, and very family-oriented.

No. Our children (3 and 5) were welcomed in playgrounds and soft plays. They actually commented on how "nice" everyone was.