Immigration
62 creative works found
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Original Photo © jwarburton 07 Someone mentioned on another site that she remembers being asked a test question in grammar school, “does the Statue Of Liberty really have sandals on her feet?” Yes, she has sandals on her feet, she’s moving forward with one foot lifted. She has the mark of the early Romans (toes) still visible in many people today – second toe is longer than big toe and little toe is “hammered”. :) “Is the Statue of Liberty in New York or New Jersey?” The statue is part of New York Harbor and sits in Liberty State Park which is in Jersey City, New Jersey. The statue is actually in New Jersey. New York Harbor includes the Statue of Liberty and Ellis Island, the first stop for all immigrants (1892 – 1954) who arrived in New York by boat. Photo Calendar, N.Y. Featured in: Spring & Summer In The North-East USA
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Immigration / MCN:C82-QGC1-2213 From Latina Lista Website: Immigrant detention is called “detention” because detainees are not being held for criminal charges. Immigrants are the only group of people in the United States that are routinely held in jail for civil offenses. Paradoxically, while immigrant detainees are held for lesser offenses, they can be held indefinitely, and they do not have the same legal protections, such as the right to free legal counsel, as people who have been charged with crimes. READ MORE CLICK HERE ARTISTIC DIRECTION: Daniel DeRossett © 2008 All Rights Reserved
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Help Protect Australia From Errorism! Every piece of misinformation helps “these” people… A very old protest design, or rather bricolage (i.e. relexively appropriated design) I had in one of the student uni newspapers some years ago… There is a seperate design for black t-shirts – check it out by clicking on my designer name…
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Cornish Miners
by PilgrimAnd they shed the miner’s collar / With education, not a lucky strike.
Poem about my family, my father’s suicide, my own sense of purpose.
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30” X 32” Oil on Canvas 6/2007 / /
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High wooden fence with green lush trees and a sign.
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An Australian Way- The History of an Immigrant
by Jienn HeibloemMy Father came from Amsterdam via Indonesia in the Dutch Military and arrived at Sydney docks in 1950. By 1952, having tried his hand as …
My Father came from Amsterdam via Indonesia in the Dutch Military and arrived at Sydney docks in 1950. By 1952, having tried his hand as a cane cutter and a bartender. He was determined to become an Australian Citizen to embrace all that Australia in the 1950’s afforded. He was adopted into the Australian family in a ceremony that saw him forge our roots, to embrace this land of opportunity, and by1952, he married my mother, a country girl hailing from Maryborough in Queensland, the only daughter in a long heritage of country pub owners. / My grandmother, a single parent, raised my mum in the spirit of the extended family and though it was a harder life than I know, it was a good one. He says he loved her from the very minute they first spoke. It was at a family get-together in Bondi and through their 8 month courtship, taught him to speak the narrative so akin to the country life moved city bound. / My Father went to work in Sydney Central at Dairy Farmers Milk Company as a foreman and worked there for the next 45 years, 6 days a week amongst a kaleidoscope of individuals who had also come to Australia as immigrants, them looking also for the fulfilment of their dreams, just like he. They ended in the throws of conveyers of crisp clean bottles and oodles of milk, yoghurt and cream. I grew up hence being forcefed yoghurt and milk products and love cream on my potatoes to this day. / This beginning has seen the roots of our family laid in a firm foundation of courage, determination and commitment to the Australian way, the way of the hard work, the way of the seeker, the way of the immigrant, the way of so many like my Dad who have followed. / This story of opportunity began here, to this man, my Dad. He had come from war-torn Europe with all of his youth coloured by war and the suffering akin to conflict, and the stifling discipline of being a serviceman. A prisoner of war rufugee, a fighter on the wrong side of a war that colours history with cruel genocide and insane poverty and hungryness for change. He served his country of original well, wanting to forget he did for the pain and sufferring etched upon his forehead, and now was determined to serve his new home as an adopted Australian, Australia the Garden of Eden to this very Eurpopean man. / My Father is now an elderly man, 80 years of deep vintage with dimentia, no memory to speak of, past what hes doing in the present- living alone in his own home, my mother having passed away a little over a year ago. They both unleashed themselves upon the Australian Dream, spontaneously and deliberately, all of their lives. Children, the family car, owning their own home, building a foundation to support prosperous living, raising one millionaire, one businessman and me. Our family holidays to the Sunshine Coast and Port Macquarie to embrace the sunshine of pristine beaches, our family hobbies of soccer and snake collecting and hikes into the country to collect old relicks to restore. Our family home, a 3 bedroom fibro house with a well tended garden, and an endlessly pregnant cat named Mitzi asleep on the driveway behind a blue FC Holden, a trampoline in the front yard and a bird avary in the back. / His sons, supported through university degrees and I became a school teacher. His wife he cherished till her very last breath and in his mental vacancy carries her crumpled picture around in his pocket as a reminder that she is loved and missed. / This is a tribute to my Father, a courageous and determined man who bourne a dream to come to this wide brown land, the land of opportunity. This furtile ground of increasing abundance and prosperity built upon the backs of families and fathers just like mine. The tapestry of progressive thinking and values that allow the humble beginner of immigrant status to pave the way toward 10, all successful, grandchildren and 5 great grandchildren. And though hes not a Digger, an ANZAC or true blue- he is nevertheless the most Australian bloke I have ever known, even in his accented bilinguisity. / Our family is no different to yours, and my Father no more important than anothers. But I pay homage here, to him, to his journey, to the Australian dream and to the continued virtue and goodness we experience in this free country- proudly embracing the Australian way. / I now look after my Dad in his mental failings as his Carer and am really glad to do it. / Oh if you could have known my Dad before his hair turned silver and his memory left him- youd hear his stories and know that every word is real, honest and a true representation of a remarkable Aussie bloke who was just born in another land.
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It’s NOT A PENCIL DRAWING – it’s a pointillistic INK drawing, like all my other drawings.
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The Australian Grounding of Edward Gray
by adgrayAll you mariners out there ~ this is how an incident concerning a heavily loaded ship running aground was reported in the 1870’s :O)
Just recently I received a copy of the story of one branch of my family tree. One of my great grandfathers was Edward Waters Gray. This was his introduction to living in Australia. You have got to love the “Official” language used :O) Enjoy! :O) PS Greats can be confusing try this run down : / Josiah was my great great grandfather / Edward was my great grandfather / Harold was my grandfather / Alexander is my father
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The main “scene” cropped from Wherever you go, I will go… Pointillistic ink drawing on white paper. “Wherever you go, I will go… (cropped)” was featured in All Things Poetic, Prose, Philosophical
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Yay - I'm Legal
by earthairfireJust got news that my long stay visa has been approved so all you Melbourne bubblers are stuck with me terrorising your city for at least…
Just got news that my long stay visa has been approved so all you Melbourne bubblers are stuck with me terrorising your city for at least another 4 years. Totally stoked, seeing as how my current visa runs out in about 2 weeks! Was starting to get a little twitchy :) Tim the happy
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English within English ruminations (?)
by montdragonDear Journal: / When you have a conversation do you say “period” at the end of a sentence. Or use bracket marks [{(brackets or braces)}], ...
Dear Journal: / When you have a conversation do you say “period” at the end of a sentence. Or use bracket marks [{(brackets or braces)}], question marks?, exclamation marks! And quotation marks ‘ ” quotations marks OMG….just too confusing. I love words like confusable “there or their” and “to,too,two,2, ewe (just kidding u ewe)” and there are some really sneaky ones “weather whether wither.” I have that mad madness of dyslexia fun and funny I can spell dyslexic ten times out of ten, I think because it just looks wrong and dyslexia is very personal (personal personnel). / Children can be cruel but never as cruel as adults who should know better and choose to be cruel, kids’ learn from adults. I did not learn to read until I was twelve all the alphabet just “things” and words blocks of things a scramble, one day I remember it vividly the letters that were (we’re were where) words….were just that WORDS! Imagine that, I read everything that I could read most of the time three and four times I had no choice….wow not bad for an idiot…children are cruel but not as cruel as adults, like cold hearted teachers who could not teach or adults who are so smug with their ability to speak or write but have no ideas and never will. / English is the new Latin, it really is beautiful elegant infused with loan words growing and expanding new words invented and words welcomed to facilitate expedite and just making English in its variations the lingua franca supreme, I adore American-English. My first language was Spanish and Basque with some French and German a hodgepodge milieu a virtual Babel. What am I trying to say (?)…hey this is my journal so I can ruminate and meander with no rhyme or reason or give a hoot about grammar or structure just rant. OK nothing pisses me off more than when native English speakers demand that immigrants speak “English” usually by those that haven’t a clue about English (?) American-English, Canadian-English, and Australian-English it goes on….English within English varies and some words spelled the same may have a different meaning or use. Imagine an immigrant trying to master English and failing miserable a little bit like dyslexia. Daunting is an understatement letters words just don’t seem to make sense at all. And trying to speak English for some it is very difficult some do try and succeed others may never be able to speak English publicly. Reminds me of the time I was in Saudi Arabia of course they speak English publicly….how is your Arabic? Mine sucks. / Just a note I was born in the United States, California to be exact my forbearer’s arrived in the western hemisphere with the Spanish invasion of the Americas. I am still dyslexic and do my best to speak American-English and try not to misuse or slaughter the English language Oy Vey….ha ha! Tolerance patience (patient the Doctor will see you now) and being human not mano-a-mano…OMG another manifesto about mano-a-mano another time, words why they are all confusable in any language.
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“Wherever you go, I will go... (cropped)” featured in All Things Poetic, Prose, Philosophical
by Gili OrrI am grateful to the host, Suzanne German, and very happy you found this drawing fit to be featured in your group. It’s a big honor. !...
I am grateful to the host, Suzanne German, and very happy you found this drawing fit to be featured in your group. It’s a big honor.
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Migration immigration rumination....
by montdragonAll races are created equal….tell that sell that…the immigrants’ song.
Migration immigration legal or illegal is and always will be a source of debate and conflict and very difficult to solve and resolve. Rant rumination noise of mine no rhyme or reason just a thoughtless thought….no doubt some will disagree and some might agree. Tolerance and patience, for those that immigrate and those feeling afraid from foreign faces other races.
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Demini is a young woman from a small village in India; she is working as a nursemaid to an old lady suffering from Alzheimer. / On a good day, she is a really charming lady, always caring. / Today is her daughter’s Hema birthday, and she is calling home. / It is two years, since she left her with her mother and came to work in Israel. Her daughter was 4 years old. She misses her so much. / Her husband left her just after Hema’s birth, leaving her alone with a new baby. She sends back home most of her salary every month. / Lately, she met Danilo a charming young man, he really listens to her. / He was working with an old man who died last month. / Today he will get a new one. / Please let it be here in Tel Aviv, so they can continue to see each other. The image was taken in Tel Aviv old bus central station. / It is neglected area where a lot of foreign workers and illegal immigrants live.
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Our inglorious Minister for Immigration makes another alleged rascist edict. What is the outcome? Ask the Sudanese.
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Assimilation - bah humbug!!!
by OzcloggieAfter all, this is where they were born. Their identity!! Their place in the world! No matter how much they, or their parents tried to be…
Another day, spent in the Dutch Australian Cultural Centre and seeing how obvious it is that, no matter how hard immigrants, (from the Neherlands ) tried to be Aussie, they cannot deny their roots!!
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SOCIAL LIBERATION NOT ANTI-IMMIGRATION! BY PHILLIPE DOAN
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this picture was taken from Ellis Island,...from this window immigrants like me, could just dream what kind of destiny is awaiting them….
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