Are you multicultural or are you Australian?

[Donte]

I’ve been pondering for a while about the whole ‘multicultural’ notion.


We often hear ‘multicultural people’ or ‘multicultural experiences’ etc but what exactly does that mean?


I am from a culturally and linguistically diverse background, (was born and raised in a non-English speaking country), like the 46% of our population. However, I never think of my self as ‘diverse’ or ‘multicultural’. This is a term other people have created to describe me and my experiences. I am me. A human being like everyone else.


The term ‘multicultural’ often implies ‘different’ or ‘diverse’, but different from what or whom? Well, clearly, from the white-Anglo Australians.


So, my experience has been that in Australia today we have the dominant or mainstream White-Anglo culture and the ‘multicultural’ culture - anything and anyone who doesn’t fit in the white-Anglo category.


The reality of course is that the white-Anglo segment of the population is also part of the whole ‘multicultural’ society, even if it’s the dominant one.


This is never viewed in my opinion, its proper light, perhaps for political reasons and the hidden racism that still lurks in the background of today’s mainstream culture.


Interestingly enough, even non white-Anglo Australians have come to accept this white propaganda and every time I hear them refer to ‘Australians’ they connote ‘anglo’. They usually say I’m Greek or Turkish or Maltese etc. - and any reference to ‘Australians’ seems to indicate ‘the others’, ‘the whites’.


This of course has created an ‘us’ and ‘them’ mentality which stems from the remnants of the ‘white australia’ policy and the ‘melting pot’ days.


So, who is really an Australian? What makes you true blue Aussie? Is the woman covered in burqa from head to toe who’s been naturalized three decades ago an Australian? And if so, equal like the fifth or sixth generation white-Anglo neighbors of hers?


Often, you’ll find that this is not the case. I propose that it’s time to scrap the labels, erase the terms and start treating all people of Australia with equity despite their looks, skin color, gender, age, sexual orientation, religion etc


How does that sound?

[Donte]

I have a Balinese friend who just became Australian citizen. Only thing is, in order to do that, he had to denounce his Indonesian one! I thought wow! I mean, I am Australian citizen but still have my European citizenship too and my passport. But to give up your country of origin and your citizenship for another country is truly something! Especially when you’re not particularly the flavor of the day in this country!

[white knight]

Hi Donte,

Balinese to my knowledge from many of my friends, are endeared as loving kind people.

Any person choosing this country as their new home does so voluntarily, no arm twisting from anyone from these shores. To apply they have to agreed to conditions. It is truly flattering if THEY choose this country as their new home.

re: "Especially when you’re not particularly the flavor of the day in this country!"

I dont understand the above comment.

I hope you are well.

Tony WK

[Donte]

Hello Tony,

True. I find every time I go to Bali that there’s a beautiful energy about the place and the people seem kind and loving. My friend certainly is. It is indeed very admirable to give up your own citizenship for another country. Especially as one cannot buy or sell or have any property in Bali once they surrender their citizenship. My friend had to give away all his villas and land to his brothers and mother and now officially owns nothing in his country of origin.

In regards to not being the flavor of the day, I refer to the often tense relationship between the two countries.

I’m ok. As we know depression is an episodic illness. I’m going through a down at the moment fueled with anxiety and other unpleasant symptoms as I always get affected by the time change/season and this time of the year brings up a lot of memories re: the death of my partner.

Overall, ok though. Nothing out of the ordinary. I started new meds and going to counseling again.

Hope you’re well too.

Kindest Regards

[white knight]

Hi Donte

In my mind the tensions between Indonesia and Australia have been low. The sporadic arguements have been restricted to treatment of beef once arrived there which caused a lot of harm to Australian farmers until industry practices improved.

Then there is the fact that Indonesia is the largest Muslim country in the world which has caused some headaches with Australian counter terrorism measures post the Bali bombings.

Apart from that I believe Indonesia and Australia have a good working relationship.

I do wonder if Indonesia will appreciate the billions of dollars in aid we have them annually. We have $600 billion dollar debt yet we still help them. I hope so.

Annual aid does help Australia indirectly though, its not all bad.

Thanks for your clarification. Clarification can serve us and readers well. I think we have bridged gaps and clarifying helps everyone.

Grief is a process we endure so privately. Our journey through life results in trauma that many of us cannot carry well.

I write. Poetry is my gig to enable me to move forward.

Eg my dad passed in 1992. 64yo.

I wrote this and read it often. Sorry about your partner. I might often misunderstand you but you are a good man and good father.

DADS PRINT

Dad knew I tried to follow

Where ever he went- in his footsteps

Through his pride and boyish whim

I always tried to follow him

And on Sundays a few hours spare

I be his shadow for the day to care

Boy behind his dad so tall

But dad didnt mind at all

Then as life us cut so short

I wish to follow as my last resort

No wonder he used a broom to sweep

To hide his footstep stenciled feet

But now and then I see a print

Where he's walked in the misty tint

Like a ghostly outline of a sole

I place my foot inside the hole....

Saddness follows in my inept

It's just something I must accept

But I be eager the day my feet will greet

My fathers footstep stenciled feet.....

Tony WK

[Donte]

Last night as I was changing channels on a desperate attempt to find something interesting and worthwhile to watch on tv, I happen to fall upon Eurovision! Yes, I know! After a few songs I just couldn’t handle it and switched it off.

However, one thing that struck me is the pride each nation feels for being who they are. That display of ethnocentricity. Made me think what is it that make me people so proud about something they never chose? Like ethnicity? Or language? Or religion?

I also thought it may be a good idea to have an AustralianVision where the 200+ ethnic groups who make up Australia today and the hundreds of indigenous nations could have a song contest similar to Eurovision where we could all celebrate our diversity and uniqueness that makes Australia what it is.

Back to mental health now; of course belonging to your group, your community, your tribe, whatever that may be, ethnic, sexual, spiritual etc gives a sense of solidarity and combats loneliness and isolation, so of course it helps to feel a part of something I guess. I’ve heard often that we are social animals. What do you think?

[PamelaR]

Hi Donte

I've been avoiding this thread for awhile. Why, you may ask?

I struggle with myself - I am both multicultural and Australian. In my household I was raised as an Australian. No other culture was ever mentioned or discussed, yet my father was Dutch and Chinese. I also believe you can add in Indonesian or Malaysian. Huh, I had no knowledge of my Chinese heritage until I was about 13 and my father would never divulge the other parts of his cultural being.

So I always struggle when talk turns to where you belong. I'm 64 years old and you'd think I'd know by now. But I don't. I'm not your traditional Australian or for that matter Dutch, Indonesian or Chinese.

I love different things, different ways of being. Absolutely open to trying new things. But get really sad when I try to place myself in any one 'nationality / culture'. I just do not fit.

That sadness though, I sometimes think it comes from other peoples expectations of me, rather than my own reality.

Up until the age of 32 I hadn't experience much difference. Most people accepted me for who I am, if they hadn't, I certainly didn't notice.

At 32, my hubby (dinky die Aussie (with a Anglo Saxon heritage, but lived in the pacific islands and new guinea) and I camped half way around Australia. We especially visited the small inland towns of each state. In almost every town I was asked - where are you from. I'd tell them, there response was no where are you really, really from. Then I told them the Australian city I was born in. But that was still inadequate for them, they'd look at me quizzically, and say really? I'd never been exposed to such blatant curiosity, though some would call racism. I expect it was either or.

The most incredulous thing is - I often get asked by Australian indigenous people, what mob are your from or asked by New Zealanders - where am I from in NZ.

I've learnt to laugh. You know, I am, who I am. I love different cultural events from all different nations and embrace all these.

The only sad part of my life is, I saw a documentary once about how the Dutch taught 'children of mixed heritage in Indonesia' about the 'natives'. They were pigs, they were dirty, they were animals. No wonder my father never wanted to admit to his background.

Not sure if this adds to your discussion. Hope so.

Kind regards

PamelaR

[Donte]

Wow PamelaR!

What an incredible story of diversity within diversity!

Thank you so much for sharing your experience. It is such a great example. I can relate! I am not your traditional Australian either or for that matter your traditional Greek! Neither is my daughter who is born here and doesn't speak a word of Greek, and yet she's asked 'where's the accent from?' hahahaaa, she often replies: 'from my father!'

To the Greeks in Greece I am an Australian. Some see me as 'lucky' that I left, and others as a 'traitor' who chose the better/easy life (little do they know), rather than staying in Greece and suffer like the rest of the population.

To the Australians I am a Greek! The one with the dark features and the accent. The 'not-quite-aussie' type!

The reality is there are aspects of both countries which I love and I have chosen this land as my own and it is where I have build my life, my family and have invested most of my life. Greece is a childhood memory. I'm not 'homesick' as Australia is my home. Yet, I'm usually seen as 'multicultural' person, not Australian (by others).

I relate with you in that I struggle 'to place myself in any one 'nationality / culture'. I just do not fit.' I am not this only, and I am not that only. But I am a bit of this and a bit of that.

But then again, what is a 'traditional Australian'? Where do they live? What do they do? How do they look like? What's their beliefs? What do they eat?

Who is a traditional Australian? I certainly don't think I have met any in inner city Melbourne the last three decades since my arrival. And is that an issue? Is our duty to maintain traditions and live the exact replicas of the lives of our forefathers?

We are ALL Australian and we are ALL multicultural. Everyone. English, Aboriginal, Greek and all the 200+ ethnicities that call Australia home.

My main interest is how our mental health is impacted by not fitting in. How our wellbeing may be affected by rejection. How by being reminded constantly that you are different may affect your capacity to cope and function and be a positive contribution in your environment, your neighborhood, your workplace, school etc.

As nobody chooses their sex, their color, their language, their birthplace, their ethnicity, religion, parents and family etc I find it ludicrous to discriminate and get discriminated upon that basis.

So am I multicultural or Australian? No wonder the struggle...

[Donte]

Sometimes all it takes is a holiday. A trip. Removing yourself from it all, even for a few days. Travel. Get away. Take a break.


Sometimes I feel like getting on an airplane and flying abroad. Not so much for any particular destination or purpose. Just to look from up there at the world.


When you're looking from high above
the earth is like a painting, and this earth we took much to heart.
The houses look so much like matchboxes from up above and
the people look like ants that stroll around busily.
Even the largest mansion is
not larger than a child’s tennis ball if you look it from high above.


And all of these people who did embitter you, hurt you and disappointed you,
if you do look from high enough
they will appear so insignificant
that you’ll forget them instantly.


When you feel down, rejected, reminded of your differences, feeling like an outsider, just imagine flying away, just visualize looking at this earth from the moon and you’ll be reminded that it's just another moonlet or balloon!


The towers and palaces look so much like dollhouses from up there,
and canons like toys appear.
From high enough you cannot tell
the adornments and the fancy gear.


So next time someone picks on you, imagine flying high up above them and over their little heads look down upon the situation with a bird’s eye view, and then you’ll realize that is not worth wasting your time with small things like these, for there are so many beauties awaiting for you to discover, if you could only take off and fly high enough. 🙂

[PamelaR]

Hi Donte

Thank you for your response above. All so very true.

In terms of how my mental health has been affected by my experiences -

Well my story is a little complex and it's just not as easy to say - people at school or in the community have picked on me. In fact, other than being asked where I'm from I've never felt any direct 'picking' on. Having said that much of my memory before I was 12 is not there, so can't recall the earlier period of my life.

What has had a direct impact on my mental health from being a multicultural Australian is - my mother's attitude towards we siblings who didn't look right (i.e. Anglo Saxon). She hated my skin, eye and hair colour. I was reminded of this all the time. In addition she dressed me in clothing that did not emphasise my colour and would never allow me to wear - blues, whites, reds. Sport was also discouraged, even though I love the outdoors. I was pushed into playing music rather than playing sport. Whether she did all this because of the comments she received as children, e.g. oh, aren't you good in adopting a child from overseas (something I've been hearing a lot of lately), so she may have been in part protecting me. I'll never know how, but have started to think along these lines.

I do know she had a terrible time from her family for marrying a 'chink'. The 50s was not a good time in Australia for fear of invasion by the Yellow Peril.

Ultimately her treatment of me left me with c-PTSD, anxiety and depression, so yes, being a multicultural Australian has affected my mental health. But not in the way others such as yourself have experienced. Though who knows, my anxiety and depression may be hereditary. Life is such a tangled web.

Kind regards

PamelaR

[Donte]

Tonight my daughter and I went to grab a souvlaki from Jimmy Grant.

I ordered a ‘Bonegila’ - chicken & lamb combo, and she got a ‘Nonna maria’ - chicken.

On our way home we were discussing the menu names...My daughter born here like her Mum - a third generation Australian, and I, a naturalized newly arrival - 30 years ago - from a culturally and linguistically diverse background.

None of us knew what Jimmy Grant meant.

On the carry bag of our take-away souvlaki (a food that similar to pizza or pasta or burgers etc among many other foods, we never think of foreign or exotic but simply part of our Australian diet), there was a story about how the name Jimmy Grant came to be:

‘Jimmy who?

When I moved from Cyprus to Melbourne in 1949, I got a job at the Docks. Everyone who came by boat was looking for work like me, but no true blue Aussie could pronounce my name. To them I was just another immigrant.

Whether you were from Greece, Asia or the Middle East we were all just called ‘Jimmy Grant’!’

There you go! A piece of history on a souvlaki paper bag! Both my daughter and I missed out in that era.

My family arrived in the late 80s from Athens, with Quantas and paid expenses and accommodation and a secure ten year contract. Different era altogether. None of us had to change our names or shorten our surnames. None of us were called derogatory names. We don’t really know the struggle of being a Migrant. We never had to look for work or accommodation. Everything was provided for us on a plate.

My daughter hasn’t experienced what previous generations of migrant children had. She’s never been called a ‘wog’. She won’t even know what it means. Once jokingly I told her it stands for ‘Well Organised Greek!’

Times are different. Diversity and inclusiveness has been on the agenda for decades. We have recently seen equal rights in so many different arenas, including sexual orientation.

What is an Australian today is definitely more inclusive of what it used to be 60 years ago...