Okay this is going to be difficult but I feel like I finally have the words and the knowledge to put this into writing. This is a long one, but I feel like this is important to say as an Asian-Australian, a 1st generation migrant, and having struggled immensely with identity, depression, and anxiety, and substance abuse.

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Moving to Sydney in 2006 from Shanghai was incredibly hard, especially when you have a name that is practically a racial slur.

The fact that I landed in a predominantly Anglo primary school in a predominantly Anglo suburb was not too much of a culture-shock really, being privileged enough to come straight from an American International School. But it was the racial discrimination – both passively and actively, I faced as an ethnic minority that created the hardships that I would struggle with for the next 10 years.

Experiences such as, but not limited to...

▪Passive and direct comments that my mum’s amazing Chinese home cooking I brought to school/uni was “weird” or that it “stinks like shit"

▪Having phrases such as "5 dolla sucky sucky" and "luv U long time" said directly to my face

▪Micro-aggressions such as being told that my “English is perfect!”, despite speaking it since I could remember

▪Micro-aggressions such as being asked where I come from, despite practically growing up here.

▪Having people on the street mutter (loudly) “ching chong”, “ni hao ma” to me as they walk past

▪Being a bystander to friends who were told to “go back to China”

▪Pressure from 0/1st Generation migrant parents to achieve and live to elitist and perfectionist Confucian standards of academia and outward appearance.

… these experiences have jaded me.

🀄

I hated not fitting in, because I felt so boxed into being another bookish Asian stereotype, that I tried so hard to run away from.

This manifested as anger, isolation, anxiety, depression, suicidal thoughts. I am ashamed to say that at one point I -hated- my culture, and what it represented for me. Why couldn’t I be Anglo and happy like everyone else? Why didn't my parents show love to me like Anglo parents? I had an embarrassing Anglo alias, I hated my name that much. I took my frustration out on people that were close to me, but most of all I came to hate everything about myself.

I took to numbing myself with self harm, alcohol, cigarettes, then other substances in complete isolation in a quest for self-destruction. This only worsened my relationship with myself and people close to me, of who I would push away unwillingly out of fear.

🀄

Yet, this pain is not my cross or my burden to carry.

Art and music and self-expression was (and still is) my solace.

And with Asian female artists such as Rina Sawayama, Yaeji, Awkwafina, and the amazing platform that is 88rising, I have finally found a voice, from finally someone like me who I can finally relate to. I am so privileged to live in Sydney, a city where I hear Mandarin, Cantonese, Korean, Vietnamese, Hindi, Russian, German, Arabic, Spanish, and so, so, SO many more languages being spoken on the streets.

This is the best I’ve felt in years, and I owe it to the last 10 years of struggle, music, art, the last 3 years of journalling, counselling, meeting new people, pushing myself to have amazing experiences, the last month of psychiatry, mindfulness, gratitude*, and lastly Rina Sawayama, who I discovered -literally- yesterday.

x

Thank you 媽媽, thank you 爸爸 for pushing me so hard, even if it hurt so much at the time. 多謝 to my Cantonese School 老師 for encouraging me despite me dropping out 3 years in. Thank you so much Dr. Abeya. Thank you Mr. Henry, Ms.Burroughs, Mrs. Donoghue, Mr. Felton and all the tutors and teachers who've shaped me into who I am.

And a special thank you to my elder sister. I looked up to you in a so much more than I ever realised. You were my only role model when I had none. I wish you were around more often, but then I couldn't have stolen your awesome wardrobe, music taste, artistic inclination, and all that from the 90s/early 00s.

Thank you to everyone I’ve met over the last 12 years in Australia. You’ve helped, believe me. Yes, you.

In less than a month, I will spend a year in Germany for International Studies^, and I am not afraid.

I am not afraid to be 何靖寧.

It gets better. Immer besser.

“Some are born with knowledge, some derive it from study, and some acquire it only after a painful realization of their ignorance. But the knowledge being possessed, it comes to the same thing. Some study with a natural ease, some from a desire for advantages, and some by strenuous effort. But the achievement being made, it comes to the same thing.”

- Confucius

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🔗Relevant links🔗

www.headspace.org.au

www.batyr.com.au

www.thenib.com/what-would-yellow-ranger-do

‘What Would Yellow Ranger Do?’ by Shing Yin Khor, a Malaysian-Californian artist.

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✨Footnotes✨

*the right strain of medical grade herbal and a terrible habit of 雙囍/Shuang Xi/Double Happiness ciggies helped immensely too, I must admit. Legalise it!

^PS I’m throwing a sick house party for my farewell and it's United Nations/International themed! I’ve been planning it for the last 2 months, just PM me for the deets, come along! Saturday Feb 10, save the date.

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