28/06/2021
I'm very grateful to have had the opportunity to contribute to the New Humans of Australia project over a few years now. So many fascinating stories!
I was two years old when we set off from Vietnam by boat. On the way, we were attacked by pirates. Luckily, my father had made sure everyone had pieces of wood with us, painted to look like guns, to make it look like we were also a pirate boat. But unfortunately, during the attack, I kept trying to get out of the hatch to find out what was going on! As a result, my father had to manage both the frightened people on the boat pretending to be pirates, and his youngest child, who was trying to get into the action. These are the types of stories we tell ourselves now and laugh. But it wasn’t easy, and my mother still doesn’t like to talk about it.
Because my father was an experienced fisherman, we made it safely to Malaysia, where we stayed in a refugee camp for about a year. To this day my mum can’t stand instant noodles, because that was the main staple we were given to eat. And I still remember how when we were given food on the plane to Australia, she started crying with relief.
As my parents were already in their 40s, it was hard for them to find work in Brisbane. My mother tried to work in a canning factory. But it was difficult for her to pick up the language, and to make matters worse, I also apparently refused to be looked after by anyone else. Once I was left at the home of a friend - a place I’d been to many times before - and sat on the steps outside for the entire duration of my mum’s shift!
My father continued to fish. He was successful, but it was hard work for him. It was also hard on the family, because he was ocean fishing, which meant he would be away for months. I remember when he came home, there would be weeks of feasting. Then he’d disappear again, and my mum would again struggle to look after all of us alone.
Eventually, my father developed pneumonia and was unable to continue fishing, so my whole family started doing sewing work at home. I remember working on mountains of t-shirts, which would arrive at our house in pieces. At that time, I would have been 8. Because of my little fingers, I used to thread the machines. I would also do snipping and bundling after the others had sewn things together. But after about 5 years, my parents’ health suffered too much for us to continue. They couldn’t cope working in a garage that was poorly ventilated. My mother also had asthma.
Even as a young child, I knew all this was wrong. And later I knew that, as someone who was good at humanities and who cared about human rights, there was only one path for me, and that was law.
In all my early jobs, I worked for social justice. I was very lucky to first work for a judge who was heavily focused on human rights. I next moved on to firms that dealt with workers’ rights, and later found work in the Textile, Clothing and Footwear Union.
Taking on this role really felt like I was coming home. In the time I was there, I was proudly part of the changes in legislation that began to finally protect outworkers with minimum wages and entitlements. This is a unique piece of law that could have really meant something for my parents.
I feel privileged to have done very well in my life. Much of that is because of all that my family have done for me. The key thing that I do not want to forget is that I have a refugee past. For a long time throughout my childhood, we would speak about being migrants rather than refugees. But it’s important for me to keep talking about being a refugee as part of who I am.
To me, it’s the best way of acknowledging what my parents gave up to get me where I am today.
Oanh
Vietnam
Arrived 1983
👉 If you would like your family story captured and privately published in a coffee table book, why not consider our short memoir Storycrafting service? Www.aussiestories.org/Storycrafting
👉 Thank you to photographer David Brewster for his ongoing support: www.davidbrewsterphotography.com 🙏
