Noonee Doronila: I did very well academically, but I think by year 11 ... I just had this, it's like a, a shock thing. Suddenly it's caught up with me. Life was easy. I could adapt to some things. But suddenly there's this ... I decided I didn't want to go to school very often at Year 11. And my teachers were really concerned, and my family, and I had these physical symptoms as well of just feeling general unwellness … and it's like I, if I look back, I think probably I had some depression. Just, just the things that I used to be used to aren't there anymore. Now, I've realised it. After 2 years or a year. So it takes about you know...
I just reckon you know that whole period that whole year I had to just, like I had to review everything that was normal to me as a 15 year old 16 or 17 by then. About who my friends were. You know about the sense of, oh it's looking like we're not going back to the Philippines at all to live. That whole sense of ... I can't think that this is just a temporary situation.
We couldn't go back straightaway. Because my relatives said, ah it's still martial law here. My dad couldn't go back to the Philippines for 10 years. Just because my relatives kept on saying look don't come back because you might get rearrested. My mom. We had to go back because her mom died like a year or 2 after. You know, after we arrived in Australia, and initially my relatives said don't come back for the funeral. It was really a tragic time for my mother. She felt, she was absolutely grief-stricken. For that whole year.
But anyway when we were able to go back 2 years later. Yes, I felt, I felt like a foreigner coming back. I was only 17 at that time or 18. It felt like, ah ... Well one day a dress is different slightly different just different, and then my accent sort of changed a bit. I couldn't get in contact straightaway with my high school friends or my other friends because we weren't staying in the house where I grew up in.
The place was familiar. But to feel a sense of 'Oh, I don't know how to get to these places anymore.' Was a bit of a revelation to myself.
Seraphin Nyirenda: When I arrived I found her in the house in Salisbury. She was renting and I go straight away there. The government didn't even say anything about it. How beaut it is. They didn't even, they didn't even say a word. It was just kind of 'Oh that's your wife, okay. Go and stay with your kids.' We gave you a visa for that. Go and stay with your kids.
And my visa was a permanent visa. It was you know, coming from an asylum seeker option, to be a permanent. You see, it's like a 100 miles away from the zero where you were. So it was a long journey for me to understand that I have a permanent visa. Which allows me to study, allows me to work, allows me to … to do whatever I can do, which is good. Not that this has allowed me to do bad, it allowed me to do things which is very good and positive minded. I was very proud. Yeah, I was very proud. It was straight away to my house. It wasn't I have to pass detentions again, or to go to another style. No, no, no, it was just very easy, very easy.
I really feel like I'm homesick sometimes, but nothing I can do about it ... Simply because of my backstory. I applied for my parents to come to visit us. Can you imagine, just to come to visit us, but in my case they rejected – my application.
They said 'No, no, no.' 'We don't really trust they will come and go back. 'We think they'll come, and stay, and seek asylum.' That was the answer from the Immigration. I said 'Ok, so what am I supposed to do then?'
The other aspect they said in their correspondence. They said, you don't earn enough money to support them. If one is sick, how are you gonna pay for their hospital? That kind of stuff. Which they are right sometime, they're right sometime, but it's not really ... it's not really fair.
Sophia Kallos: I decided to go and see my parents in Greece. The first thing that I did, I must admit. Getting off the plane, I kissed the ground. And I said "patrída mou" you know what I mean? "My country" - that's what I said. It was so sad.
As we're going through the ... the ... passage that people have to test your ... passport and all that. He said. 'Oh, Australia.' 'Why did you leave your country and go to Australia?' I said to him, 'Do you think I wanted to go?'
Joseph Assaf: Yeah of course I missed my family but I felt ... I always, I knew that I will be going back regularly and I did end up going regularly back to them. But of course I changed. I came from Lebanon arrived in Australia a Lebanese. I went back as an Australian citizen, so it was a great big change too.
Erfan Daliri: Growing up feeling Australian was something that, I mean, I had to take myself. I realised that if I'll leave it to other people's hands whether I'm an Australian or not, I'll never be an Australian.
Not having ever been to Iran and not really remembering much from India I haven't known anything else. So I've never lived in another country and I have nothing to compare this is all I've ever known. Is it paradise? It's ... it's life ... it's got its ups and downs and you know whether you face racism or prejudice or homophobia or sexism these are just issues we all face.
We all face prejudice in some way shape or form throughout our lives, sometimes from within our own families. As an adult now I can look back and realise that the prejudice we face was basically just out of fear. Fear of the unknown, fear of something that was new. Now I can realise that's, you know all Australians whether we're new migrants or generational migrants, even Anglo-Saxon Australians we're all seeking a better life in a land that's not ours. So yeah I think the one thing that all Australians share in common is that idea of seeking a better life in in a new land. So I definitely feel Australian in that sense.