by Slavica Homoki

Created on: December 21, 2006   Last Updated: April 30, 2007

When I was eleven years old immigration turned my world upside down. Life as I knew it abruptly ended and I was thrown into a world of duality. My carefree childhood with my identity in tact was gone forcing me to spend the rest of my life living between two worlds. In the country of my birth I belonged and I had a name that was not strange or difficult to pronounce.

In my new country I was taken on a journey into the unknown and experienced extreme pain and loneliness while adjusting to my new world.

To fit in and cope I hat to reject everything from my country of origin. A new me had to be create. Someone who was acceptable. Reminders of my old life had to be discarded. My grandparents, aunts, uncles and cousins whom I loved had to be forgotten, our life together denied if I was to survive in my new world.

One of my teachers had difficulty remembering my name. He asked what other name would I like him to call me. 'Betty' I eagerly replied. I chose the name after my favorite television show at that time 'Father Knows Best'. Betty was the teenage daughter of the family. I wanted to be just like her.

Calling myself Betty did not disguise my accent nor could I hide my parents who were clearly not Australian. I was ashamed of where I came from and ashamed of being ashamed.

But all my attempts at fitting in were in vain. I was missing a part of me. Denying the existence of my past was impossible. I could not begin my life as a newborn.

Slavica was not easily discarded. I tried to shut her out but she would not stay silent. She lurked close by always reminding me that she was there, waiting for me to acknowledge her. I was never complete and felt disloyal to those I left behind in the old country.

It took many years before I could accept that there would not be a Betty without Slavica. The answer was to go back and reacquaint myself with the world I came from.

Twenty years after my departure I returned home. Excitement turned into despair when I discovered that the world I left behind was no more. I had no home. The memories of childhood were just that, memories and the carefree existence without conflict of identity was gone. There was no refuge for me in either world. I could never go back. My only option was to go forward.

My search for identity was finally over when I realized that it was not about the country I live in or about the country I came from. I had to give a voice to both sides of me. Slavica had to emerged and coexisted with Betty. My survival depended

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