NO wonder Jess Phillips's speech went viral last week.

It used to be absolutely bog standard that your politicians represented your views, you could listen to one of them speak and nod along.

Now it's more likely that you're inclined to want to throw something at the television.

Sorry, how old fashioned of me.

You're inclined to want to throw something at a post on their Twitter feed or their Facebook timeline.

But the MP for Birmingham Yardley caught the nation's attentions for the right reasons, for her impassioned speech about immigration.

She touched on topics that are popular talking points during a speech to a largely empty House of Commons during the immigration bill debate: poshness, class, earning potential and immigration.

Four of the most British of subjects.

Her line about the olives was inspired - “I thought I had met posh people before I came here, but I had actually just met people who eat olives” - and witty.

I didn't meet posh people until I went to university and what an eye opener that was.

Ms Phillips also took to task the Conservative government's bill, which would end freedom of movement and restrict visas for EU citizens to those earning more than £30,000.

Of course, she pointed out, that rules out some teachers, nurses and care workers.

It puts a literal worth on how we value the skills of certain sectors while other, high earning people might be far less skilled or making a far lesser contribution to society.

"I have definitely," she said, "Met some very rich people who earn huge amounts of money who I wouldn’t let hold my pint if I had to go and vote while in the bar."

Well quite.

The suggestion that those who earn less money don't work as hard as others is bizarre and unquantifiable.

How do you say what hard work is - one man's tough day is another woman's picnic.

It's also the sort of attitude that got us into our equal pay mess, the notion that a bin man is hard working and a cleaner is just working.

But what really stood out to me was this from Phillips:

“It sticks slightly in the craw of a person who grew up in Birmingham to listen to people who don’t live among migrants… talk about how difficult it is for communities to have to live in places of high migration," she said.

"Well, it’s not difficult at all - it’s a total pleasure."

It's not often you hear a politician speak in unequivocal praise of immigration. And she's right - it is a total pleasure.

I lived in a hugely multi-cultural city as a child and was completely used to having a wide range of religions and races in my classroom.

We moved from that to a homogenous white town where children with one Catholic parent and one Protestant parent were referred to as "half caste". It was quite a culture shock.

Now, as an adult, I've chosen to live somewhere with a diverse range of nationalities and there really is an additional richness to life when you have new cultures to experience. There's constant learning to be done.

Last year during Ramadan I went to an iftar - the breaking of the fast after sunset - and it was really special to be welcomed there. There is a Somalian cafe near my flat that does the most amazing coffee.

There's a local Roma band that plays brilliant music. A Romanian delicatessen with about 30 kinds of cheese or a Middle Eastern supermarket just down the road.

I realise I'm focusing on my stomach here but it's not just about food.

There is so much to learn about other cultures and religions, other languages and traditions - and people just getting on side-by-side.

It doesn't do to romanticise immigration because it's not always easy - for either settled resident or newcomer - but it makes life richer. And not richer in a £30,000-a-year sort of way, in a way that has real meaning.