Amy+Ong

TOPIC: Migrant Australia ERA/ TIME FRAME: We are looking at migrant Australia during the gold rushes in the 1800's

Websites and texts found: Legacy; []

Australia – Anna Walwicz

You big ugly. You too empty. You desert with your nothing nothing nothing.You scorched suntanned. Old too quickly. Acres of suburbs watching the telly. You bore me. Freckle silly children. You nothing much.

With your big sea. Beach beach beach. I´ve seen enough already. You Dumb dirty city with bar stools. You´re ugly. You silly shoppingtown. You copy. You too far everywhere. You laugh at me. When I came this woman gave me a box of biscuits. You try to be friendly but you´re not very friendly.

You never ask me to your house. You insult me. You don´t know how to be with me. Road road tree tree. I came from crowded and many. I came from rich. You have nothing to offer. You´re poor and spread thin. You big. So what. I´m small. It´s what´s in. You silent on Sunday. Nobody on your streets. You dead at night. You go to sleep too early. You don´t excite me. You scare me with your hopeless. Asleep when you walk. Too hot to think. You big awful. You don´t match me. You burnt out. You too big sky. You make me a dot in the nowhere. You laugh with your big healthy. You want everyone to be the same. You´re dumb. You do like anybody else. You engaged Doreen. You big cow. You average average. Cold day at school playing around at lunchtime. Running around for nothing. You never accept me. For your own. You always ask me where I´m from. You always ask me. You tell me I look strange. Different. You don´t adopt me. You laugh at the way I speak. You think you´re better than me. You don´t like me. You don´t have any Interest in another country. Idiot centre of your own self. You think the rest of the world walks around without shoes or electric light. You don´t go anywhere. You stay at home. You like one another. You go crazy on Saturday night. You get drunk. You don´t like me and you don´t like women. You put your arm around men in bars. You´re rough. I can´t speak to you. You burly burly. You´re just silly to me. You big man. Poor with all your money. You ugly furniture. You ugly house. Relaxed in your summer stupor: All year. Never fully awake. Dull at school. Wait for other people to tell you what to do. Follow the leader. Can´t imagine. Work horse. Thick legs. You go to work in the morning. You shiver on a tram.

Analysis: The poem Australia, written by Anna Walwicz is written in the eyes and mind of a migrant in Australia. It shows the discrimination many migrants suffered after moving to Australia. This is a text about migrant Australia because it shows how people felt about the white Australians.

The idea of racism and discrimination is shown throughout the poem. For example the third verse it says "You insult me" and in the second verse, "you laugh at me" This is an idea of racism toward foreigners in Australia. Another idea in the poem is that the foreigner is being discriminative towards Australians. It seems to be that the narrator doesn't want to be accepted into the community and prefers their home country. For example in the third verse it says "I came from crowded and many. I came from rich. You have nothing to offer." This seems to mean that their home country was much better than Australia. It also seems that they seem to regret moving to Australia and think that Australia is just a boring, flat piece of land.

Walwicz uses imagery throughout the poem. This allows the readers to really understand what the foreigners went through after migrating to Australia. Imagery also allows the readers to look at Australians through their eyes. For example, "You scorched suntanned. Old too quickly". This is a representation of Australians who spend too much time in the sun and as a result get that weathered look. Or it could be a representation of Australians who live on a farm and spend hours in the sun. In conclusion this poem is a good text to use regarding migrant Australia as it is written through the eyes and mind of a migrant. It is also written in broken English. This represents the migrants and how they spoke since for many English was their second language.

VISUAL TEXT



Visa’ Luping Zeng The Rake’s Progress: Luping in Australia (2010) Analysis: This painting shows an immigrant’s positive perspective of Australia and migrating to Australia. It is by Luping Zeng, an artist who moved from China to Australia. Firstly the painting has a foreground and a background. In the foreground there is a portrait of a Chinese man, who looks very touristy. This shows the positive outlook on Australia and it doesn’t show the racism and discrimination that other migrants may feel and experience. The Chinese man is in black and white. This may represent the contrast and difference between the migrants and the people of Australia. It shows the gap and difference between the two cultures and creates the effect that the Chinese are different and not as important as the other cultures of Australia. In the background there is the Australian coat of arms. There are also a few people in the background. The people in the background are looking the other way and not looking at the tourist as if they don’t care about the migrant. Luping Zeng uses a mixture of brush strokes. To paint his self portrait he uses longer, more fluid brush strokes. To paint the background and other people in the painting he uses smaller, more contained brush strokes. These two different types of brush strokes can represent the two different cultures, the more fluid represents the Chinese culture similar to the traditional Chinese paintings and the finer brush strokes represents the Australian and European culture. The cultural perspective of this painting is looking at the difference between the artist and the people of Australia. It is also representing a Chinese tourist’s point of view about Australia. But in this painting the artist is looking at the positive side, as if he is happy to be migrating to Australia instead of seeing it as a drag and something that he would rather not do. By making the Chinese man a rounder face the artist is implying that the man is Asian as it closely resembles Buddha. The man is also doing the “peace” sign with his fingers. This is typically an Asian tourist gesture when in photos. This may suggest that the man is posing in Australia and he is excited to get there.

Immigration stories: Olga Ukraine, USSR migrated to Melbourne, Australia Germans invaded Zaporozhye, Ukraine 1942 where mother and father worked on Dneiper Dam. Father Mykola Iszczyszyn, mother Ekaterina Shuvalova (Russian), sister Ludmilla (Lucy), and I Olga (1939) were taken to work in Schweinfurt, Germany for Fichtel und Sachs, a ballbearing factory. Lucy and I sorting nuts and bolts. 500 young Soviet girls suffocated in the camp when bombs fell on their building and they were locked in. Carried to Germany by freight/cattle trucks with munitions, soldiers. Many died and thrown out. Miracle we survived as a family. Young sister Vera born 1946. Americans freed us. Lived in Aschenburg until taken to Australia. Could not go back to homeland during Stalin's reign. Our loved ones did not know if we were dead or alive until after Stalin died. General House, American warship took us on its last voyage in 1950. A horror trip; women and children separated from men, sleeping in HOLD, stifling, stinking, suffering from seasickness. Broke down mid ocean; nowhere to hide from sun, water cut off; if too sick to eat at sitting, then went hungry. Wonderful experience of going through Suez Canal. Flyer on board telling us we were heading to a country of cannibals, snakes, spiders, crocodiles and kangaroos jumping in main streets. Drizzly weather when arrived in Melbourne, but many people excited and thankful. Taken to Bonegilla Migrant Camp in middle of nowhere; nissan huts too hot during day and freezing at night. Women and children separated from men again. Horrible food of greasy chops, sausage rolls, pies, pasties, mashed potatoes all covered in gravy. Mildura Migrant Camp was next, a small airforce base later museum. Father allocated job in Adelaide for Water Supply digging holes and trenches (he, electrical engineer). He found us room in house of migrants; 3 in one room, single owner in sleepout, married owner in another bedroom, 4 of us in 3rd. Lucy had to live in Infectious Disease Hospital as Nurse's Aid. No room for her. No Australians wanted families especially the odd New Australians who did not speak English. Adult Displaced Persons (us) were indentured to work for 2 years to pay off our grim passage to freedom, hence father digging holes; mother in jam factory and Lucy 16 (adult age then 21) could not study, had to work. At 12, I had to feed and look after little sister and father, as mother worked long hours. Father bought block of land with two roomed shed for sleeping and small wooden hut as kitchen/dining room. Toilet was hole in back of block, small tub to wash us and clothes. Life was still a struggle. Father started building house without any previous experience. The digging and hard work took their toll and father ruined his back. In my first school, I failed last three months. Children took me outside to teach me English. Next year determined, I came second and thereafter was always first or second. Little Vera in junior primary was crying. I came to sit with her, was told off, but ignored it and they left me alone. I have always been very determined in my life, especially at any injustices. Goodwood Primary School was wonderful and I was a favourite with teachers, even though my teacher would sneeze Ah-choo at my Surname. In 1950 was a lot of racism, intolerance, unfair treatment of migrants at work. It was WOG then, now it is the black races which are suffering from small minded, bigoted, intolerant and ignorant people. Australian government asked us to change our Surname. The first section Iszczy meant Search so that is what we became although my parents hated it. If the translations used on migrant Surnames were not derived from Polish, our Surname could have been Ischchishin, which may have made it easier. When father died in car accident at 60 years, mother went back to maiden name Shuvalova. Mother saw her remaining relatives in St. Petersburg after she had a stroke, a momentous achievement for a woman who could not speak English. Poor father never saw his homeland again. Mother died at 80 years from Alzheimers. Lucy married and has five girls. She was a very intelligent and bright person, became prominent in her Ukrainian church and community. Vera also bright and intelligent became a teacher and had two girls, now mothers themselves. I only had one son. I went back as mature aged student and obtained degree in Social Work and only just retired at 68. I have written the first section of Autobiography about my father and mother and now working on my migrant story about our life in Australia.

Analysis: Olga, a girl from Ukraine, USSR is a migrant. She moved to Australia from the Ukraine after Germany invaded in 1942. Her story is an example of migrants in Australia. She recounts the horrible experiences she and her family went through while travelling on boat to Australia. She also recounts the way the Australian people treated them, with hate and dislike. This text shows the perspective of Australia from a migrant. This text is similar to the previous text because both show the negative side of living in Australia. For example, “no Australians wanted families, especially the odd new Australians who didn’t speak English”. This shows how the author felt about the Australians, that she thought that they didn’t want migrants in their country. The author supports her view on Australia by recounting her trip there and the horrors she went through, not only to get to Australia but also how people treated her and her family when they arrived. She also wrote the book in ineloquent language. This can show that they are migrants and cannot speak English. The author implied that Australians didn’t want migrants in their country and made fun of them. The author positions the responder to think about the horrors of migrating to Australia. She makes the responder really understand what her family went through to get away from the war.

CREATIVE WRITING MARCH 2011

SHORT STORY TERM 3 (unfinished)

I can hear them shouting. Everyone can. They’re loud. I’m sitting in darkness and they never stop. It’s always about the same things “you’re a disgrace” and “you’re not setting a good example for your younger brother”. I don’t care. He can do what he wants. I’m just alone in the dark. Never knowing what’s going to happen to him. It started four years ago. He had come home beaten up. He wouldn’t tell us who did it, only that he was going to pay. We were all scared for him. Scared that he would return home, eyes mad or in a body bag, never to talk again. He was my only friend. I didn’t go to school, not in my condition. He would sit by me and talk for hours. Telling me about the outside world and how dangerous it was and how he was glad I wasn’t out there. That’s when I first heard the gun. The sound, like a million lightning bolts cracking through the house. I felt him jump up and run from the room. Seconds later I hear another gunshot. He comes back to me and whispers in my ear “run to the closet, run quickly before they find you.” I ran. Moments later he’s back. Soon holding me so close I can feel his heart beating. Pumping through his body like a drum. He says I’m okay and nothing will ever hurt me. I raise my eyebrows. “Never” he says. That’s when the fights start. People, thundering through the house like it’s a racetrack. They meet in the toolshed behind the house. He doesn’t know I listen to them. Hearing the clinking of bullets and guns being exchanged. Hearing them talk about the others down the street, plotting on how to take revenge. It’s scary. I hide it from my parents; they have enough on their plate without me running to them every time he meets with his buddies. They deal with him by yelling at him. I know that he hates it. I hate it. They never yell at me though, only him. The words become blurred and I struggle to keep up. The past will haunt us but the present is happening. My parents blame him for everything. . . <span style="font-family: Tahoma,sans-serif;">. <span style="font-family: Tahoma,sans-serif;">. <span style="font-family: Tahoma,sans-serif;">. <span style="font-family: Tahoma,sans-serif;">. <span style="font-family: Tahoma,sans-serif;">He holds me close and tells me everything is fine. The gang war has ended, he is safe and that’s all I care about. “I’m glad you didn’t see it” he says and he knows I feel so too. Even though I can’t see it I can hear it but I can never tell him that. I will never be able to see or talk. It doesn’t matter though, all that matters is he’s safe.