What Does It Mean to Be Australian?

My mum was born in India. My dad was born in England. I was born here in Australia.

I lost both of my parents when I was young, and with that loss came a disconnect from parts of my cultural identity. Yet I was fortunate that those cultures remained alive through family.

I remember my nan on Mum's side, the aroma of herbs and spices filling the house, a biryani simmering on the stove, aunties, uncles and cousins gathering around tables covered in Indian dishes made with love.

On my dad's side, there were Yorkshire puddings, roast dinners, fresh scones and my pa sitting captivated by the soccer, cheering on his team with a passion that the English seem to have absolutely mastered.

Years later, travelling to India felt like reconnecting with a part of myself I had never fully known. It was a connection to my mum's birthplace and a reminder that our roots never truly leave us. One day, I'd love to stand where my dad grew up in England and feel that same connection.

But while my heritage shaped me, so did Australia.

I grew up with backyard barbecues, blue-tacking AFL posters to my bedroom wall, bouncing on the trampoline until sunset, camping trips, hunting on cattle properties, camp drafting, swimming in creeks, Zooper Doopers on hot summer afternoons and the smell of eucalyptus after rain.

I sat cross-legged on the floor watching Play School, waiting for the rocket clock to turn and reveal what would be explored that day, guessing whether it would be the square, the arch or the round window that held the next adventure.

Growing up in Darwin, I learned about Indigenous culture through school and community experiences. I learned about bush tucker, stories, creating our own dot paintings and the meanings behind the symbols, Country, and traditions that had existed on this land for thousands of generations before I arrived.

Looking back, those experiences helped me understand that Australia's story is far older and richer than I could have imagined as a child.

I was also a beach kid. I'd race down to the coast after school with a surfboard under my arm, chasing waves until the sun disappeared. I learned to swim between the flags, and one day at Cottesloe Beach I got caught in a rip and was dragged out to sea. A lifesaver brought me back to shore.

These moments truly shape you.

I remember watching the Sydney Olympics at school, crowded around the television with classmates, cheering for Australia as though the athletes were our own family. For a few weeks, the whole country seemed united. Watching Cathy Freeman felt like witnessing history.

I grew up watching Steve Irwin and believing curiosity, adventure and respect for nature were simply part of who we were.

I remember listening to The Wiggles on cassette tapes in the car. Years later, having Anthony Field, the Blue Wiggle himself, comment on my artwork with such praise felt incredibly special. Someone who had helped shape so many Australian childhood memories had somehow seen mine.

As I reflect on all these memories, I'm reminded that Australia's story didn't begin with my family, or with migration, or even with Federation.

It began with the First Peoples of this land, whose cultures, stories, languages and connection to Country have continued for tens of thousands of years. My family's story became part of Australia, but Australia's story was already here.

And perhaps that's why a song has always stayed with me.

"For we are one, but we are many, and from all the lands on Earth we come."

Those words resonated with me as a child, and they still do today.

Because these aren't just my memories.

They're our memories.

The smell of a barbecue. The excitement of the Olympics. Learning about the world's oldest living cultures. The beach. The bush. Backyard cricket. The schoolyard. Stories shared around dinner tables, campfires and beneath the Milky Way.

I love this land.

I love its ancient stories, its wide-open skies, its beaches and bushland, its red earth and the scent of eucalyptus after rain. I love the diversity of people who call it home and the countless stories that have shaped it across generations.

I am the son of immigrants.

I carry the stories of India and England.

And I am proudly Australian.

Not because of where my family came from, but because this is the country that shaped my memories, my friendships, my values and the life I've lived.

Because Australia isn't one story.

It's all of our stories.

And together, they become something bigger than ourselves.

🇦🇺❤️ Jet