Sunshine
Tiếng Việt 🇻🇳 / English 🇬🇧
More often than not, Vietnamese diasporas in Australia live under a state of loss. After the American War ended, millions of Vietnamese fled their country to America, Canada, or Australia most commonly through boats. Many of them never saw land again. With the influx of Vietnamese immigrants to Sunshine in the late 1970s, the suburb is now superimposed by the Vietnamese community to resemble a faux representation of their home nation, one they could not return to. Their lives on this foreign land that once aided in invading their homeland are relived through scenic photographs of Vietnam hung in dimly lit restaurants and burning incense as they pray to their ancestors for a better fortune.
Without direct relation to the immigrant experience, I look at Sunshine and its surrounding areas through a dual-outsider perspective. I am neither an Australian nor a post-American war refugee. Yet, this has proven to be two sides of the same coin, as the effect of Australia’s colonialist history coincides with the aftermath of the American War. With reconciliation deemed unlikely in the near future, this has further driven the distance with their home nation among the first generation Vietnamese-Australians, as well as the loss in transition many second generation immigrants suffer from.
Through browsing the local news, internet archives, and word-of-mouth, I discovered deconstructed stories without a beginning nor an end. Unlike its name, Sunshine slowly unravels its inter-generational tension of inner-community identity. I use photography not only to document Sunshine, but also confront my outsider status in Australia. I am constantly reminded that I am 7000 km away from my home in Vietnam, in a suburb that disguises itself as home.
📖 Ấn phẩm / Publication