Conversations with My Immigrant Parents
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Top 10 Conversations with My Immigrant Parents Episodes
Goodpods has curated a list of the 10 best Conversations with My Immigrant Parents episodes, ranked by the number of listens and likes each episode have garnered from our listeners. If you are listening to Conversations with My Immigrant Parents for the first time, there's no better place to start than with one of these standout episodes. If you are a fan of the show, vote for your favorite Conversations with My Immigrant Parents episode by adding your comments to the episode page.
Something Far Greater Than This
Conversations with My Immigrant Parents
04/28/21 • 43 min
How do we search for something we've never seen? The last episode of the series sees the Arif whānau reflect on their years in Aotearoa and dream of a better future.
How do we search for something we've never seen? The last episode of the series sees the Arif whānau reflect on their years in Aotearoa and dream of a better future.
The Arif whānau settled in Kirikiriroa in the 1990s. Dad Mahmud is originally from Iraq, with Turkish heritage, and his wife Mayssaa is Syrian and Egyptian.
Their daughter Shayma'a is one of six children, and joins them on the last episode of the series. Shayma'a lives and works in Te Whanganui-a-Tara as a human rights lawyer. Mahmud recently retired and Mayssaa volunteers in many capacities, working with the refugee community and supporting the local Arab community in Waikato.
This episode dives into feelings of loss that can be hard to define or give voice to, particularly the loss of home. The family discuss being unable to visit either Iraq or Syria - Iraq because of Mahmud's family's background in politics, and Syria because of the ongoing war and humanitarian crisis.
Shayma'a pins down one thing about separation from home which she has found particularly unsettling, saying, "I feel like I really wanted to see Syria, but now it's too late.
"I see all these white people going there all the time. I always see on YouTube all these Europeans going to Syria and visiting, even during the war, but they're fine and they enjoy it. This is what I get really sad about. How come they get to go back to our homelands and enjoy our countries, but we're not allowed to go and enjoy our own countries?"
Mahmud initially came to Aotearoa as a skilled migrant with years of experience as a dermatologist, but according to New Zealand's laws around doctors with foreign licences practising here, was unable to work in the field he specialises in.
For the last 12 years, he has been travelling back and forth from Aotearoa to the United Arab Emirates, working as a dermatologist there and returning to be with whānau here when he can. The fractured living and working environment and disruption to his family life has not been easy for Mahmud.
"I'm not regretting coming here, but I'm disappointed," he says.
Mayssa and Mahmud have their two youngest daughters still living with them in Kirikiriroa, and now that Mahmud is retired, they hope he is able to spend more time with his whānau.
In this last episode of Conversations with My Immigrant Parents, the discussion explores how differently immigrants and refugees experience Aotearoa, displacement, grief, having children, and kittens...
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Little Pomegranate Tree
Conversations with My Immigrant Parents
04/02/23 • 45 min
Adel escaped religious persecution in Iran as a teenager. He talks with his wife Maxine and daughter Carmel about language, whakapapa, plane rides, and the privilege of putting art first.
Content warning: This episode contains offensive language, themes of escape, sacrifice, loss of language, and navigating multiple identities.
Watch the video version of the episode here
Adel escaped religious persecution in Iran as a teenager. He talks with his wife Maxine and daughter Carmel about language, whakapapa, plane rides, and the privilege of putting art first.
Adel, his wife Maxine, and their eldest, Carmel, lead the first episode of this final series of Conversations with My Immigrant Parents. Maxine is Samoan, Chinese, and Māori; Adel is Iranian, and came to Aotearoa with his brother when he was 16, after spending a year and a half in a refugee camp in Pakistan. Maxine and Adel live in Tūranganui-a-Kiwa with Carmel, who is 20, and their youngest, Haami, who was 16 at the time of recording.
In the conversation, Carmel talks about preparing to live away from her parents for the first time, leaving Tūranganui-a-Kiwa to head back to Tāmaki Makaurau, where her family lived for many years, to study fine arts and language at the University of Auckland.
"I feel I've only really discovered the art world in the past year because I've started to work with people and spend time with people who are involved with that, but my idea of being an artist was always you," Carmel tells her dad.
Adel made art for many years, alongside his other work and study. He describes having to make a choice in order to provide for his family: "I didn't give up everything, but I did give up art or a life in art for financial security." However, he is mindful that he did this specifically so that his children would not have to be in the same position, and would be able to choose a career in the arts if they wanted.
Maxine and Adel met through their shared Baháʼí faith, and wrote one another love letters for a long time before they met and wed. After they married, they lived in West Auckland and raised their family there before making the decision to return to a place that might provide a new kind of home - to Te Tairāwhiti, where Maxine has whakapapa connections...
VIP
Conversations with My Immigrant Parents
03/24/21 • 44 min
After four years studying in Dunedin, Alby has just moved back in with his mum Lina in Naenae. The two of them discuss Lina's career, Alby's grief, and whom our lives are lived for.
Content warning: This episode explores themes around mental health.
Watch the video version of the episode here
After four years studying in Dunedin, Alby has just moved back in with his mum Lina in Naenae. The two of them discuss Lina's career, Alby's grief, and whom our lives are lived for.
When Lina Fairbrother came to Aotearoa from Sāmoa in 1986, the move was a chance to improve the lives of loved ones at home, as well as to give her potential children here more of a leg-up in the world than she had.
"That is the main reason why I came here: to help my family to have a future here."
A few years after arriving here, Lina, in her own words, "met my honey" in Albert Fairbrother, Sr. They married, had one son, whom they also named Albert Fairbrother. The three of them lived in Naenae, Lower Hutt. Albert Fairbrother, Sr. was 26 years older than Lina when they married, which caused some trouble at family gatherings.
"Uncle Maiava said, 'Oh, he's too old for you, look for another one,'" remembers Lina.
Alby's dad passed away when he was still in Year 12, something which dramatically changed how he experienced his last year at school. He describes attaining university entrance early, but his grades dropped so low in his final year that he was unable to get into university without sitting extra exams.
He moved to Dunedin to study at Otago in 2017, and took some time to adjust to the lifestyle and the community.
This episode was recorded the day after Alby left his hall of residence and his life in Dunedin to move back in with Lina. He recently got his first job, a graduate position writing policy for the Ministry of Primary Industries, the same government department that Lina, coincidentally, has worked in as part of the cleaning staff for the last 10 years.
Lina's perception of her job is an important counterpoint to the ways immigrant workers in cleaning roles have widely been portrayed.
"I told people at MPI, 'My team, we are VIP people.' They look at me and I say, 'We are very important people. Without us, who's going to clean your mess?' I'm not ashamed because it pays the bills, buys the food. I do it with passion because I'm a cleaner, and I'm so happy to call myself a cleaner."...
Crying from Up in the Sky [English Dub]
Conversations with My Immigrant Parents
04/30/23 • 34 min
Hương fell pregnant at 20, but she didn't know it was twins until it was time to push. In this bilingual episode, she talks with her daughters Hà and Ly about dependence, marriage, and homecomings.
This episode is available both in the original Vietnamese and with an English dub.
Watch the video version of the episode here
Hương fell pregnant at 20, but she didn't know it was twins until it was time to push. In this bilingual episode, she talks with her daughters Hà and Ly about dependence, marriage, and homecomings.
Hương Nguyễn didn't know she was having two babies when she was pregnant.
"I delivered Ly first. I had absolutely no idea about the twins. The doctor said I still needed to deliver one more baby."
In this penultimate and special bilingual episode of Conversations with My Immigrant Parents, Hương sits down with her twin daughters Hà and Ly and talks about wishing she had more support with raising them, what going back home to Vietnam for the first time since she left as a young woman was like, and a closeness with her daughters that is like sisterhood.
The Nguyễn whānau arrived here as refugees from Vietnam, via Hong Kong, where Ly and Hà lived for the first two years of their lives. There was little food, baby clothes, or things to buy or share in the camp, and Hương tried hard to provide for her daughters. When cooking, she had to balance one on her front and the other on her back. Her descriptions paint a clear picture of how different life with two babies was instead of the one she had expected.
The pandemic started right when Hà's long-term relationship ended and she moved back in with her mother in her 30s. In many ways, Hà and Hương believe this physical closeness has helped their relationship grow. As Hương describes it, "I know her more, can understand her more, and really empathise with each other's stories. It's quite pleasant, actually. Fun at times, too!"...
None of Us Know
Conversations with My Immigrant Parents
05/07/23 • 53 min
Both Mahe and his dad Tui were raised by their Tongan grandmothers. In the last episode of the series, father and son discuss namesakes, queerness, and parenting through fear and uncertainty.
Content warning: This episode contains reference to domestic violence and discussion of losing children.
Watch the video version of the episode here
Both Mahe and his dad Tui were raised by their Tongan grandmothers. In the last episode of the series, father and son discuss namesakes, queerness, and parenting through fear and uncertainty.
Mahe and his dad Tui Pofele share a heartfelt conversation in the last episode of Conversations with My Immigrant Parents. Tui arrived in Tāmaki Makaurau from Tonga when he was very young, although he is unsure of his exact age when he arrived, and is unable to corroborate it.
"No-one tells my story properly," Tui recalls, "They have no record of me entering New Zealand. That's why I always joke and say, 'Well give my tax money back.' So I gather I came really young."
Tui also had Mahe when he was young, becoming a father for the first time at age 20. When he and Mahe's mother separated, Tui's mother Manaema took care of Mahe so that Tui could work enough to be able to support Mahe and his siblings. Mahe credits Manaema with a lot of his upbringing and character, saying, "She's embedded in me." Mahe describes his grandmother's sacrifices as motivation to work hard and strive for excellence in his own life.
One of the reasons Mahe put himself and Tui forward for the podcast was to have more of a discussion about his sexuality, which he had revealed to his father a few years earlier.
"I knew that I was bisexual, and even if you took it badly, I was prepared to just carry on with my life anyway, because for me, I wanted to be fully happy."
Mahe also talks a little more about what it's like occupying a liminal space in terms of his sexuality. He says that often he feels bisexual men are not truly accepted in either gay or straight communities, and that he struggles to make and maintain queer friendship groups.
The makers of this podcast want to extend a special note of gratitude to Mahe and Tui for sharing their time and stories. Tui's wife Lovi was very ill when this podcast recording took place and, tragically, she passed away not long after.
Really Nice Potato Sacks
Conversations with My Immigrant Parents
12/08/19 • 42 min
Joseph and Grace Trinidad talk about making their "own little Philippines" in the Hawke's Bay, why Filipinos love competition, and what it means to be both queer and Catholic in 2019.
Content warning: This episode also explores themes around mental health.
Watch the video version of the episode here
Many New Zealanders may be surprised to learn of the large Filipino community in the Hawke's Bay. It's a well-organised and tightly-run ship, with elected presidents responsible for running events, including games for Easter, Valentine's Day pageants, Halloween festivities, and of course gathering together en masse to celebrate the birthdays of the many children and grandchildren across various families.
The Trinidads - made up of son Joseph, his sister Elyx, and their parents Grace and Jose - moved to Hawke's Bay 10 years ago, and are active members of the community. Jose was a farmer in the Philippines before selling his livestock to come and work in the New Zealand dairy industry. He worked as an 'Overseas Filipino Worker' for three years before he was able to bring the rest of his whānau over.
His son Joseph recalls the transition as a 13-year-old from the bustling Philippines to rural New Zealand: "It was cool to move to a different country. I can be a different personality and no one knows who I am. But the biggest change was we had such a busy life in the Philippines, where we'd go out every weekend, go to the city, go to the mall - we wouldn't come home until 9pm and here... everything closes at 5pm."
Joseph now lives in Wellington with his partner Max, and works in a call centre. He travelled back to Hawke's Bay to record this podcast with his mother. Grace was a professor in the Philippines, but struggled to find adequate teaching work here. She currently works at a pet-food packing factory.
In the episode, Grace and Joseph talk about Filipino accents, Joseph's coming-out experience, and sexuality and freedom in the Catholic Church.
"Remember when you were in the hospital, telling me that you are gay? What was the first thing I told you?" asks Grace.
"You don't care. And you already knew," replies Joseph.
"Even the wider Filipino community knows that I'm gay. And I don't know what they say behind closed doors, but they've always been nice to me."
Where to get help:
Need to Talk? Free call or text 1737 any time to speak to a trained counsellor, for any reason.
Lifeline: 0800 543 354 or text HELP to 4357...
Mama Is More Stronger
Conversations with My Immigrant Parents
04/23/23 • 42 min
Tooba and her husband Habib chat with their teens about community and strength in Ōtautahi, a place that has been both a source of immense grief and love since they arrived in 2007 from Pakistan.
Content warning: This episode contains discussion of the white supremacist terror attack of March 15th, 2019.
Watch the video version of the episode here
Tooba and her husband Habib chat with their teens about community and strength in Ōtautahi, a place that has been both a source of immense grief and love since they arrived in 2007 from Pakistan.
Habib, Tooba, and their children Fatima and Usman have lived through some of the darkest events in Ōtautahi's history. The family moved from Pakistan in 2007, and have lived in Ōtautahi ever since. Habib works for the Ministry of Ethnic Communities and Tooba doesn't formally have a job, though she does a great deal of work providing support to many members of her community. Fatima and Usman, despite being a year apart, are in the same year at high school.
After arriving in their new home town, the family moved around a number of times, living in rental houses all around Christchurch from their arrival up until 2021. According to Tooba, leaving one house and moving into the next was a test of strength: "The bad thing about moving houses was the inspections. They were giving us the dirtiest house and then we were cleaning and making it like new, and after three months, taking photos, even if there was one piece of grass growing, and they were saying, 'You need to mow like this.'"
The 2011 earthquake was a crisis felt by the whole country, though the magnitude of it was hard to comprehend for anyone outside the city, and especially to those unfamiliar with what Ōtautahi pre-earthquake might have looked and felt like. But unfortunately, they were only the first of two major tragedies to be suffered in the same decade.
2019's white supremacist terror attack at Al Noor mosque and the Linwood Islamic Centre was, in Tooba's words, "the worst nightmare of our life." The family describe realising the magnitude of the violence against their community more and more over the course of the day, as they learnt about what exactly had unfolded. Fatima says she started wearing her hijab after the attacks, and doesn't think she would have done so if not for that, and Usman talks about his school facilitating more Muslim groups since the attacks. Tooba and Habib's community work leveled up following the March 15th attacks, and remains an important aspect of family life...
Homesick on the Marae
Conversations with My Immigrant Parents
04/21/21 • 46 min
Arriving from Fiji, newlywed Halima Stewart headed straight to Tapu Te Ranga Marae where she raised three kids with husband Bruce. She talks with her two youngest about navigating different cultures.
Watch the video version of the episode here
Arriving from Fiji, newlywed Halima Stewart headed straight to Tapu Te Ranga Marae where she raised three kids with husband Bruce. She talks with her two youngest about navigating different cultures.
Halima Stewart was 22 when she came to Aotearoa to be with her new husband Bruce, who was in his 50s when they met. After growing up in Fiji, and speaking only Hindi, moving countries and heading straight to Tapu Te Ranga Marae to live was a huge culture shock for Halima.
"When I was first feeling homesick on the marae, Bruce tried his best to take me everywhere he could so that I could speak my own language. Two years, I couldn't speak my own language around here, and I couldn't speak English very well at that time. I never knew what 'homesick' meant at that time."
Bruce Stewart was an influential figure in Te Whanganui-a-Tara, and when he passed away in 2017, his death left a hole in the lives of many people around him. He and Halima had three kids: Parehuia, Hirini, and Kirihika. Halima's two youngest kids, Hirini and Kirihika, join her in the discussion on the podcast.
"Growing up, not being Indian enough in an Indian household and not being Māori enough in a Māori household. You're just in the stereotypes constantly," poses Kirihika.
As Kirihika explains, trying to stay true to both sides of her identity was difficult. Halima wanted her children to grow up with a strong sense of their identity as Indians, and with knowledge of Islam, as she did. Bruce wanted their children to grow up with tikanga Māori, which was largely missing from his own childhood and upbringing.
Tapu Te Ranga Marae was a beacon for the community in Island Bay, but unfortunately a fire broke out in 2019, a tragedy which is covered extensively in Episode One of RNZ podcast He Kākano Ahau. Losing both Bruce and Tapu Te Ranga was devastating for Halima. Although Halima and Bruce had been separated for many years, she was his primary caregiver in his later years, and was with him when he passed.
This episode explores loss, isolation in a new country, biculturalism, and cross-cultural relationships that bypass colonialism and connect straight into te ao Māori.
My Dad Is My Mum
Conversations with My Immigrant Parents
04/14/21 • 50 min
In Kirikiriroa, Donally and her father Alfredo discuss parenting that contradicts society's expectations, how Filipino men are expected to 'get on with it,' and life after tremendous grief.
Content warning: This episode refers to mental health, grief, and death.
Watch the video version of the episode here
In Kirikiriroa, Donally and her father Alfredo discuss parenting that contradicts society's expectations, how Filipino men are expected to 'get on with it,' and life after tremendous grief.
Alfredo Bernal immigrated to Kirikiriroa from the Philippines and met and married his first wife soon after. They had a daughter, Donally, but divorced when she was 18 months old.
Alfredo took custody of Donally after the separation and was her primary caregiver, though the breakdown of his marriage took a toll.
"I've always thought that marriages are lifetime things. You don't get unmarried. I grew up in an environment where there's no such thing as divorce, so, when I married your mum, I thought that I will be married for life. But, unfortunately, it didn't work. Honestly, I cannot remember why. And in my second marriage, I tried harder. So that lasted longer."
Growing up with her father as her primary caregiver meant Donally always felt a bit different to her classmates and friends. The two of them discuss the quizzical looks they would receive from other mothers and parents at playgroups or at the mall.
"There's a stigma to fathers raising daughters," muses Alfredo.
Alfredo grew up Catholic in the Philippines, but didn't raise Donally as strictly in the church. During her high school years in Kirikiriroa, Donally experienced difficult times, and she was aware of how her relatives' opinions about this were influenced by their faith.
"The normal is to be Catholic in the Philippines, so I remember a comment that someone gave to you about me and they said, 'Well, why didn't you send her to church? You should have sent her to church so that she wouldn't be depressed and suicidal,' or whatever, as if it was your fault and you'd done something wrong by not raising me the way that all the other Filipinos were raised."
Fortunately, Donally has reached a point in her life now in her early 20s where she feels truly settled, and currently lives with her husband Austin in Tauranga. She and Alfredo are still close despite living in different cities, and this episode explores the depth of their relationship, Filipino identity outside of religious and cultural norms, grief, and parenthood...
Argumentative Is an English Concept
Conversations with My Immigrant Parents
12/15/19 • 43 min
Francisco and Vibeke are parents to teenagers who regularly switch between Argentinian and Dutch cultures. They talk about why coming from different countries means navigating more than just language.
Watch the video version of the episode here
The Blaha/Brethouwer whānau live on Waiheke Island and have roots in three different countries: Argentina, Holland, and here in Aotearoa. Dad Francisco migrated here as an adult; Mum Vibeke was born in Aotearoa but grew up in Holland; and their teenage children, Kika (14) and Felix (17), were born in Auckland.
Francisco left Argentina because he saw no place for himself in a system he saw as rigged, with a corrupt military government. He hopped on a boat with little clue of what he was going to do, and spent the next few years working on boats in the Pacific, eventually finding Aotearoa through a serendipitous weekend.
"I was in Tonga and they asked me to bring a boat down to New Zealand to do survey, which is like a warrant of fitness. So I arrived here and I had a very good weekend and I decided to jump off the boat and never ."
Vibeke, on the other hand, feels she's left a large part of herself in Holland.
"I left New Zealand when I was three years old, so I had no real memories... I'll always feel like I'm going to be almost split in half. When I'm in New Zealand, I miss things about Holland, and when I'm in Holland, I really miss things about New Zealand. I've now literally lived half my life here, so I'm completely torn forever."
Many threads in this episode explore the cultural differences between Dutch and Argentinian people, the difficulties for kids of immigrants raised in multiple cultures, and the privilege of the family being perceived as being more 'ex-pat' than 'immigrant.'
Kika points out how often she doesn't get recognised as being from an immigrant background: "Until I say, 'Oh, my dad's from Argentina,' or until they see a photo of him - because you're tall and big and dark - people don't think about the culture, or the history, or, 'Oh, what if this chick has some super cool... what if she can speak Spanish or speak Dutch.'"
"I feel like I have to try and present that culture a lot more, and I really want to because it's something I want to have presented and I want to have a part of me."
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FAQ
How many episodes does Conversations with My Immigrant Parents have?
Conversations with My Immigrant Parents currently has 26 episodes available.
What topics does Conversations with My Immigrant Parents cover?
The podcast is about Society & Culture and Podcasts.
What is the most popular episode on Conversations with My Immigrant Parents?
The episode title 'Something Far Greater Than This' is the most popular.
What is the average episode length on Conversations with My Immigrant Parents?
The average episode length on Conversations with My Immigrant Parents is 40 minutes.
How often are episodes of Conversations with My Immigrant Parents released?
Episodes of Conversations with My Immigrant Parents are typically released every 7 days.
When was the first episode of Conversations with My Immigrant Parents?
The first episode of Conversations with My Immigrant Parents was released on Nov 18, 2019.
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