An open letter to my parents

by Kon Karapanagiotidis, CEO and Founder, ASRC

How did you carry the grief of having to leave home, of losing the warm embrace of your mother and your homeland forever? I feel such sadness for you, that when your parents passed the sea still stood between you. 

How did you endure enough struggles for a thousand lifetimes, childhood dreams never realised and your potential never seen without it breaking and beating you both? It would have destroyed me. You have given us the earth by crossing the sea, we are nothing without you.

Somehow you found within you the strength to raise Nola and I so that we could dream we could touch the sky and be anything, a dream that you were only allowed to have as small children. By 12 you were both working the fields, dad you had to start at nine years old to raise a dowry for your three sisters. I remember you telling me how you dreamt of being a lawyer.

My father

You came here Dad when you were 29, and Mum when you were 20. Speaking only the language of hope and a suitcase of sacrifices when you reached these shores you found a way through the darkness. There was no welcome when you arrived, I remember you telling me the stories of being racially abused, threatened and told to go back to where you came from; of being exploited in factories and farms, treated like animals, until your bodies couldn’t take it anymore and we had to beg you to stop working. You told me of never feeling like this country truly wanted you or that you ever belonged but that it was too late to go home.

Every day you would do jobs that most people would see as beneath them, with 4 am starts, 15 hour days on farms, helping build this country.

My parents in 1969

Dad I can still see your hands blistered, scarred and so coarse from a lifetime of struggle and courage. Mum when I asked you why and how you could face another day on a farm or in a factory being treated like you were less than human, I remember you telling me “it’s so that no one can ever do this to you and your sister, you can be anything, we do so this so you never will have to struggle.”

When the Minister of Immigration Peter Dutton spoke of migrants and refugees as a burden, it filled me with such hurt. He was dishonouring you and all you had given this country, this from a man not worthy of standing even in your shadows. Parents who with nothing, no English, no savings raised two human rights lawyers, with eight degrees and an Order of Australia between them.

More importantly, you had taught us how to be caring people, to think of community and take pride in giving back and hard work. You taught us how fragile and precious life is and to be proud of where you came from.

Dad when you suddenly died at 63, I was 27 and all I wanted was the earth to swallow me whole, I felt like why couldn’t the world just stop. You had only just retired after 52 years of working to support your family, this was meant to be your time to dream, your time to taste the freedoms and life you had given me and Nola.

I think of how if you and Mum had only been born one generation later it would be you who would be writing this story. The best I can do is honour your story, so your sacrifices count. I see the community like you saw our family, where those in need should be cared for and protected.

My grandmother, who survived the Pontian genocide

Nola and I want people when they come here seeking safety and freedom to be welcomed and safe. We want this to be a place that sees their courage, potential and resilience. Each day when I work with refugees I think of how today this country wouldn’t have let you in and how much poorer it would have been for it. I reflect on how in a different time you could have been the ones at sea seeking safety only to have the door to freedom closed on you. What a lottery it is when and where you were born and how the world treats you.

I hope we make you proud with the work we do helping refugees and others in need of safety and opportunity. It’s your faces I see in each of them. I see your story reflected in theirs.

I see the power of love, compassion and standing up for what is right that you instilled in us. I will share this message with all who will listen: that we are one family, who should protect, sacrifice and care for each other in times of need. That’s what family does.

#TheirStoryOurStory

At some stage in our history, a family member has sacrificed something so that we, or the next generation could feel safe, loved, and to help us prosper. These stories recognise the importance of giving a person the opportunity to feel safe, and build a better life.

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