Amelia+Catalano

MIGRANT AUSTRALIA focus: post-war migration partner: Jaclyn

CULTURAL PERSPECTIVE: Upon analysing many sources, Jaclyn and i found that the dominant reading of alot of these texts were positive- personal migrant recounts included mainly good memories, and historical texts depicted migrants as much luckier that their counterparts who stayed in Europe. A smaller percentage of the texts we found were more negative, and focused on the feelings of isolation felt by Postwar migrants as well as other hardships such as career distress and ill treatment by Australians. To illustrate this balance we chose one poem that expresses the negative sides of migration, and that are wholly positive.

SOURCE ONE: POEM

if i was the son of an englishman, i’d really be an aussie, i could be a high court judge, or an actor on the telly, i could be a union boss, or a co-star with skippy, i could even be prime-minister, or comment on the footy. if i was the son of an englishman, i’d really be an aussie. but my father eats salami, and my mother she wears black, my last name’s papadopoulos, and my first name’s just plain jack. if I was the son of an englishman, i’d really be true blue, i could drink myself to delirium, and glorify the spew, i could desecrate the countryside, and destroy the kangaroo, i could joke about the irish, the greeks, the abos and the jews. if I was the son of an Englishman i’d really be true blue. but my father he drinks ouzo, and my mother she wears black, my last name’s papadopoulos, and my first name’s just plain jack. if I was the son of and englishman, i’d really be fair-dinkum, i’d be seen and not heard, i’dbe quiet on the tram, i’d be rowdy at the footy, and cold to my fellow man, i’d build four walls around me, and I wouldn’t give a damn, if I was the son of an englishman, i’d really be fair dinkum. but my father eats salami, and my mother she wears black, my last name’s papadopoulos, and my first name’s really komninos

By Komninos Zervos

In the poem, the author Komninos Zervos explains how different it is being of Greek migrant background in Australia. The content of the poem gives the reader a sense that although the author knows and loves Australian culture, (this is shown through use of Australian slang and naming significant aspects of Australian culture) he will never feel completely, 'true blue' Aussie. He goes on to explain it is because of the significant cultural differences between Anglo- Australians and himself, a Greek- Australian with still quite traditional Greek parents.

Greek- Australians are represented here as traditional, even old- fashioned, people who are proud of their heritage and will not give it up, no matter where in the world they are. This is a stereotype many people would have of European migrants living in Australia in the late 20th century- one of the few stereotypes that appears to be accurate, seeing as the author is talking about his own parents. At the entirely other end of the scale are the Anglo- Australians, who are presented here as successful, in the authors eyes the 'true' Australians, and somewhat careless. This is also a stereotype- although the author is going off what he is witnessing, he is making a large generalization about Australians that he has probably emphasized for the purpose of showing the differences between the two cultures. Other poetry techniques used are also keeping with the lighthearted, humorous feel of the poem (offsetting the potentially serious subject matter). These include the rhyming scheme (every second line rhymes; the first lines do not) and the uncomplicated language. The fact that the poem is written by a 2 nd - Generation Greek in Australia tells the reader that the isolation and traditional differences that migrants may feel extends to their children- the more migrant parents try to keep aspects of their culture in their children’s life, the more their children feel different to other Australians, even as adults.

SOURCE TWO: SHORT STORY

Because of the great upheaval caused by the events of WW2, my mum and dad, Geertje and Roelf de Boer along with their four children, Roelof 9/8/1939, Anna 13/2/1943, Max 9/10/1947 and Roelf Jnr 29/7/1951 decided to migrate to Australia in order to obtain a much brighter future for themselves and us their children.

We embarked on MS Fairsea and after a six weeks journey arrived in Melbourne. From there we were taken to the migrant reception centre at Bonegilla in Northern Victoria, and were fed and housed in WW2 army barracks. As a lad of 13, I was in paradise as I could roam the hills for and wide, catching rabbits, fishing for redfin on Lake Hume - I picked my first orange on a nearby farm. The trees, the landscape, flora and fauna was so different - especially the poisonous snakes.

There was at the time a downturn in the economy, and my father trudged all over Victoria to find work as a farm labourer as both my parents were from peasant farming stock and hard workers and their dream was to one day own their own farm.

After about 6 months my dad found a passage aboard MS Taroona and arrived in Devonport, Tas one morning, where he happened to meet another Dutch migrant who took him to see an Australian farmer who needed a labourer, so for 8 pounds a week, plus free milk, spuds and firewood we were hired to live in a roomed shack with an open fire place where my mother would produce simple but filling fare.

Eventually they purchased their own dairy farm and with hard work made a great living in this country of great freedom. I as the eldest as required to assist of course and eventually I became a Warrant Officer in the Aust. Army, seeing Vietnam service. I served for 36 years.

My siblings all did well in their chosen fields. I am married to a local Tassie lass and we have seven children, grandchildren, and 4 great grandkids all living in Northern Tasmania. My parents returned to Holland where my mum is buried. My dad came back here and is buried here.

Three of our sons have and are still serving in the defence forces in conflicts such as Aghanistan, Iraq, etc. I thank my parents for changing our circumstances - it was a great sacrifice for them, and I thank Australia for welcoming us and giving us a wonderful way of life.

61310 W.O.2 R."Dutchy" de Boer

A consistent theme running through many of the sources we have reviewed is that Australia is depicted to the countries affected by WW2 as a land of opportunity and a brighter future, with many available jobs and lots of space. Whether this was in fact the experiences of post- war migrants required some further investigation. From reviewing a handful of migrant's' stories each, Jaclyn and I came to the conclusion that post- war migrants did in fact have an overall positive experience on arrival to Australia. We chose one story that we felt represented many of the stories that we read. This personal account is another example of a source that supports the dominant cultural perspective regarding Migrant experiences in Australia. It is the story of Roelf and Geertje de Boer, from the Netherlands, as told by their son. The de Boers are revealed to have migrated to Australia because of the upheaval in Holland as a result of WW2. They sought a better life for their young children, and believed they would find this in Australia- this notion was something commonly associated with Australia at the time, probably on account of its isolation from the rest of the world. Something else that is highlighted in the story is the hard labour that migrants often took on as their means of providing for their family. Thought there were many jobs, they often did not pay a great deal- enough for the basics. Although the general perception of Postwar migrants is that they had a tough time, felt isolated and did not really call Australia home, the stories that we read, written over 50 years after the migration, challenged this. Perhaps this is because, in retrospect, those who left their home countries knew It was the right descicion for them and know they were better off than if they had stayed in their home country. As for this story in particular, Northern Europeans such as the Dutch did tend to fit in better with Australian society than other migrants as they were less focused on maintaining their language, religion and culture, perhaps because there were smaller numbers of them and less of a sense of community.

SOURCE THREE: SBS MINI DOCUMENTARY

unable to embed, link here: []

ANALYSIS:

This video, containing video footage from the late 1940's the the early 1950's, depicts individuals who made the decision to migrate to Australia in a certain way; they are shown as successful, happy, and surrounded by friends. This video was put together in 2002, over 50 years after the events depicted took place, and some heavy manipulation of emotions is taking place with the selection of footage, music, and voice clips all being wholly positive. The techniques used for this representation are as follows. The establishing shot is an incredibly large ship, probably bound for Australia- the sheer size of the vessel signifies a sense of hope and adventure, as if uprooting your family and moving halfway around the world is simply an exciting journey. The shots that follow depict smiling, attractive people of all ages and a range of races, often focused on in amongst a large crowd or in the middle of their families. Their facial expressions are mostly excited, like they are sure their experiences will be positive because of their preconceived views about Australia. Other shots show men in business suits with expensive- looking suitcases, displaying pride in representing their home country in Australia. A particular clip included in the short documentary shows a primary school- age British boy in a stylish uniform, telling the camera "Dad's taking me to Australia. He says that's the best place for me to get on in life!" He sounds eager and is smiling straight at the camera. The video ends with closing shots of a group of men and women waving goodbye, and a woman's voice with a slight accent as a voiceover, saying "They handed the passports to us, said good luck, and… go." This simple phrase at the closing of the video is an example of one woman's first experiences with Australia and Australian people- it depicts Australia as a country welcoming to everyone. Of course, the fact that the video was made 50 years after the events says a lot about the clips chosen- obviously not every migrant's experiences, from travel to arrival, were positive, some overwhelmingly negative, but the maker of the video obviously wants the video's viewer to think of Australia's Postwar migration boom as a positive time in Australia, rather than one which was difficult and strenuous for the people involved.

SHORT STORY: (30/03/11) No Title
It’s the best and worst thing about me. The sense of anonymity it brings is such a gift at times; at others, I feel so socially inept I want to lock myself in my house and never come out. It was worse as a child. Other children thought I was very stupid or chronically shy- they didn’t waste their time on me. I made friends with talkative people. They could be as self- absorbed as they wanted and they knew I’d never start talking about myself. The hidden consequence of these ‘friendship’ was that they forgot about me. It not like people were discriminative. The kid with Asperger’s and that girl who set fire to her house received more weird looks that me. People just kind of acknowledged that they’d never make a real connection with me, which lead to them basically forgetting I existed. Which brings me to the anonymity. Over the next six years, probably a handful of people spoke to me the entire time. I was a very good student. My mother jokingly called me the ‘quiet achiever’. I applied into all the best universities, against the advice of the careers counsellor, and got in to every one. I was going to complete a music diploma. My teacher, who I could tell had never had anyone remotely different in her class, asked me- “if you’re deaf, how you do play music? Are you kiddin’ here?” I motioned for her to play a scale on the piano in the centre of the room. After a moment’s thought, I wrote “B Major” on the whiteboard, followed by, “I can hear”. Still, music wasn’t for me. I had crippling stage fright, much to the chagrin of that music teacher. I switched to a literature course, because I liked to read. My mother was a librarian- the irony of being her child is not lost on me- so I read voraciously. I’d already read every book on the semester’s list, even the plays and anthologies. My professor was a kind lady, similar in age to my mother, who love reading French book, non- translated. She taught herself to speak French. She also liked me a lot. “You’re my star student, Rosemary,” she would tell me. I planned to take a semester in Paris. I knew enough written French to get me by, and if you’re going be anonymous, why not do it in Paris? I was ready for an adventure. I met a boy. He was French, and within five minutes of meeting me, he knew I didn’t talk, but could listen, and that i was named after a character from “Tender is the Night”. “You’re American?” he asked me. I blushed. How do you know? “Your hair, it’s up. The Parisian women just let their hair down, or braid it.” I pulled the elastic form my hair, smiling at him. “There, now you’d never know.” Was I being… coy? I’d grown used to no male attention… but I could get used to this. So, I stayed in Paris. Mostly, people blamed my lack of French skills for my constant state of quiet. It was ironic, because after being in Paris for a few years, I was as fluent, writing- wise, as a native speaker. I started working in an English bookstore to pay for my course. One of the regulars was from the same state as me. “Why Paris?” She asked me, while paying for the latest issue of the US Elle. I typed on the register’s keyboard; French people are really friendly to me… and I love French food! The girl smiled. “Have you ever learned to sing? I know you’re not deaf, but, wouldn’t it be helpful?” Yea, if I was friends with a lot of deaf people, I typed. “I guess there’s no point if you can hear what people are saying”. Currently, I don’t really know where my life is going. I’d love to find a job in Paris, but who’s going hire me? Right now, I’m doing a couple of odd things, just for cash, but realistically, what could I be? A professor? A writer? A librarian? Ha. Maybe. The other day, my mother called- she talks, I listen. “Honey,” she said, “I know you’ve been worryin’, but you’ve been like this before- remember school? You freshman year of college? Dad leaving? You got throught that stuff, didn’t you? Rosie, you live in Paris now- I can only dream! And, sweetie, you make things happen! Look at you now! That’s how I know you’re going to be ok- more than ok. I love you, Rosemary.” Dial tone. I laugh, in spite of myself.

SHAKESPEARE'S MACBETH- Why I chose my scene act 3, scene 1, lines 115- 125 and lines 127- 137 (seperated by two lines from the murderers)
 * Interaction with the murderers could explore Macbeth's manipulative side
 * shows clearly his goals at that point in the play
 * Macbeth speaking about his relationship with Banquo shows how detached he is from his old self
 * BUT, the occasional nice thought about Banquo shows the Old Macbeth peeking through
 * Ultimately it's a struggle between the old and new Macbeth and the new tyrannical Macbeth wins, Macbeth's priorities make themselves clear
 * I decided to do these two parts of the scene rather than the earlier reaction with the murderers and macbeth's thoughts on banquo, because they both only explore one side of upcoming murder of banquo- these texts show both macbeth's feelings towards banquo clearly and his newfound ability to manipulate people.
 * it is somewhat of a turning point in the play when macbeth is making the concious choice to become the person he feared he would turn into