A Cultural Identity Crisis

As a caucasian female in the 21st century, I live a blessed life. I’ve never been deprived of food or clothing, had beautiful homes to call my own, been exposed to an exceptional education and never suffered from hardship or illness. I consider this to be the greatest privilege, and have drawn comfort and composure from it in times of stress. This month marks my 10 year anniversary as a resident of Australia- something I approach with very mixed emotions. I find it difficult to adequately communicate my thoughts when asked how I feel as a ‘settled’ immigrant, so in honour of this milestone, I felt I’d put fingers to the keys.

I never forget how lucky we are to have the freedom of movement, when (especially in Australia) we’re confronted with the heart-wrenching tales of those seeking asylum being cast away from a new life. For most of us, should our minds venture overseas we simply follow them. For my family moving to Australia was not the Holy Grail it poses for so many itching for space and opportunity, but rather a safe haven away from a difficult situation. I think the gravity of the decision to move across the globe never sinks in until you’re there and, coupled with less than desirable moving circumstances, I was left extremely bitter when we arrived. I attended a wonderful high school in London, had a fantastic social network and was happy. Nonetheless things change, and Australia provided the opportunity for us to maintain a somewhat comfortable lifestyle in a completely new culture.

One might believe any Anglo-Saxon country to be similar, but I found assimilating into the Australian lifestyle immensely difficult. In the early 2000’s Sydney wasn’t what it is today- even for a teen Londoner, I sensed it was like stepping into a time warp. I find this the hardest thing to describe to those who move here now, to a country that has benefitted so heavily from technology and globalisation. You don’t realise how much you cherish your home comforts until they’re removed from you- it seemed like the cultural light I took for granted had been extinguished. I never considered myself a child of the arts, a champion of culture or even remotely patriotic, yet I longed for the vibrance of home instead of the monotony of this young, isolated city. At the time I meant no disrespect- it truly was my representation as a child of a metropolitan city. The friends I met were fantastic, my school was amazing- but it took me a long time.

As mentioned I (and most Brits) am inherently unpatriotic. We don’t like a fuss, we’re proud when we need to be but we’re modest (football fans are obviously exempt…). I don’t think I’d ever encountered a situation where I had to discuss my heritage, yet when I moved here it was everywhere. I couldn’t recall any everyday malice towards Australian’s in the UK (in fact, they’re barely even mentioned) yet here I learnt of a ‘rivalry’ I was never aware of. Frequently I had to defend myself against criticism and stereotypes- and not always in jest.
Nationality is incredibly important, and in a young multicultural nation they seemed to want to ‘figure you out’- not something I would dream of discussing in general conversation back home. I would often get quizzed on the origin of my dark hair, far from your typical English rose. Mumbling something about my grandmother being Colombian meant I wasn’t just English, but Colombian too- regardless of my 3 English grandparents and my/my parents lives being carried out in the UK. It never occurred to me you couldn’t just be from where you were born and raised. Whilst I embrace lovely latin traditions from my own grandmother, I didn’t feel one could identify with a country I was never raised in to the point of proclaiming it was part of my nationality- but in Australia this is a complete norm. This took me a while to adjust to, but I know now most just want to piece together the jigsaw of their nation, and a part of them retains the immense patriotism of their immigrant elders.

As the years go by, people assume you’re becoming more Australian- your everyday memories of home fade, you become comfortable, you develop routines, friendships. Your opinion as an outsider becomes less credible- you’re one of us now. To an extent this is true, and I’ve adopted some fabulous traditions and hilarious slang. I suppose most people leave their life behind, but what makes me different is that I’m always reaching out towards home. We knew nobody in Australia and with one parent, my whole greater family, friends and familiarity still in the UK, I make the pilgrimage at least once or twice a year. Having one foot in the door back home is fantastic and an absolute must for me to stay in touch with the vibrance and innovation of Europe… but it’s spoiled me to the point of a cultural identity crisis. Who am I? Where do I truly belong? I guess you could say I’m greedy and I want it all. I fiercely follow English life, display inherently British morals and opinions but live an Australian life. I think this is where I differ from most immigrants- I still identify and visit enough to still classify myself as a Londoner, despite the whole decade I’ve racked up in another hemisphere. It’s as though I’ve created a hybrid culture, not quite fitting snuggly into either.

The latter part of the decade has been fantastic, and I feel as though I’m coming into my own as a privileged little bee who has it all. Australia gave us the chance to live happily when others wanted to deprive us of that luxury. Despite a rough start, I’ve grown attached to the little nuances on offer in Sydney, and it has served as the backdrop for some of my most formative years- I’ve made beautiful friends, pursued my lifelong aspiration at a brilliant university, lived in the security of a safe city, worked for good wages, experienced beautiful scenery, been front row for any opportunity, attended amazing festivals, tried new things, been heartbroken, been in love, been a teen and been an adult. Whilst I’ll always feel it’s one step behind the hustle and bustle I love, that’s the biased, newly-chiseled competitor in me. London is my heart and soul- and Sydney is my home. How lucky am I to have both?

♥