Whether it be from my past books or as I continue learning of and writing new stories for the next book, one thing that keeps showing itself over and again is that migration has many stories and different faces, even just in my own family –
William and Katherine, he from Ireland, her background, German who met in Australia and married in 1893, ahead of their time for cross-cultural marriages. The two Francescas, mother and daughter, leaving southern Italy to join Domenico in Australia, father and daughter strangers at first. Fred and Charlotte who took a chance leaving England for Australia’s ‘sunshine’. Vitale and Maddalena, kept apart for years by war and poverty. Wilhelm and Friederike who endured a terrible ship journey, Annibale who travelled across the world alone aged fifteen…
Between 1854 and 1948 they came to Australia, all from poor, hardworking backgrounds – farmers, labourers, vinedressers, coal miners. All had to leave behind loved ones, never to see them again. Some were sought out and persuaded to leave by Australian migration agents. Others were told by parents to go, or did of their own volition, all prepared to work hard to break from crippling poverty.
They did their best to make the most of this new opportunity and worked long hours, made new friends, created new homes, even learnt new languages. They stayed for the rest of their lives, were loyal to Australia, fought in wars for it, even despite the resistance shown by some to their different sounding names, accents or cooking.
And the thing is, it’s possible to love two countries in the same way it’s possible to love two parents, or more than one family member, or friend. It’s an honour to come from people who took calculated risks, were hard workers, who showed strength and compassion having gone through trying times and sacrifice, who showed true courage and resilience. Each face, each story might be inherently different, yet in many ways they are also the same. ❤️
Zoë Boccabella 