Mirror Mirror

I'm in Essay Project, listening to Allegra speak about her respect and appreciation, as a second-generation immigrant, for Australia--the country that granted her Russian side of the family safety and hope. My dad is from Vietnam. His family immigrated to Australia when my dad was a child, somewhere between the 70s and 80s. I would hear about the Vietnam War in pop culture as I grew up, particularly American pop culture. I never heard the dates. I never put anything together. My realisation has been gradual, and even now, I don't even think I fully understand what my dad went through. I don't feel a strong connection to my Asian heritage. I have never been to visit my mum's family in Indonesia, or visited Vietnam. I can't speak Indonesian or Vietnamese. People my whole life have approached me and started speaking Chinese and every time I have to explain, with my very Australian accent, that I don't speak Chinese. I met my best friend online, through a ...

It's Semester 2 2017. I see Stud Park Shopping Centre in Rowville. Chocolate frappes in the middle of winter. The beep of the tag on the Eastlink. I hear Bad 4 Us. * I feel the ice-cold bus stop bench outside Springvale station. I feel a Rubik's cube in my hands, twisting and turning, solving and unsolving. I hear me: 'I just want a new friend.' I hear you: '...You win. No matter what happens, you win.' * I feel the scrape of a hedge as I climb out your window into winter. My pink scarf--a hand-me-down from my cousin--smells different. * I smell the Essence Camouflage Foundation I bought at Chadstone. I still see the marks. * There are parts I don't see--gaps and hollows like lines in blackout poetry. The Really Bad 4 Us parts.  * It's Semester 2 2019. I'm at a dance teacher staff meeting, flicking through my phone looking for good French-themed pop songs. Spotify--Playlists--July 2017. I see a bright yellow cover...