Big family barbecues, political marches, endless hours swimming and playing outdoors. A diverse list of prominent women reminisce on their childhoods and what Australia Day means to them.
MADELEINE MADDEN
Actress, 19
I was born in Sydney and grew up around the inner west. We are like the Australian version of The Brady Bunch – our family is massive. I am one of six and my childhood was always about cousins and family gatherings.
We never shied away from political discussions around the dinner table. We would have conversations about what was going on in the world and I think that's where I got the fire in my belly to not be afraid to have an opinion.
I have very fond memories of my grandfather [Indigenous activist Charles Perkins] who died in 2000. When I was four I'd sit on his lap at the kitchen table or in his office and he'd be on the phone ripping into someone in Canberra. Then he'd hang up the phone and say to me, "Give me a hug, give me a kiss."
Growing up, we would go to political marches and rallies. I became vocal and had a stance on issues when I did the GenerationOne campaign at the age of 13. At the time I didn't understand the gravitas of addressing the nation but I did understand the differences between Indigenous and non-Indigenous communities and what we needed to do together to make it better.
I think we were one of the last young generations that spent our youth outside. We weren't so obsessed with screens. We'd swim, run around and just enjoy the outdoors. I am grateful for that.
I moved high schools quite a few times and left in year 10 to focus on my acting and started working. I hated school and would wag at every chance. I've always been treated like an adult in my personal life and I think working at a young age showed me that there was so much more going on out there.
But I love learning, so I went back to school and completed year 11 and 12 at the International Grammar School.
They celebrate diversity and I never heard one racist comment there. In the end I loved it and I'm glad I went back.
I refer to Australia Day as Survival Day. It is more a celebration of our culture. Being a young black woman in this country, I think about where I am now and those who paved the way for me. I always dream of what Australia will be and how far we still have to go – we are still a country that is quite divided. Until we can come together and celebrate our diversity, the title Australia Day doesn't sit well with me.
Madeleine and grandpa Charlie Perkins, Photo: Supplied
EMMA ALBERICI
ABC television host, 46
I was born in Melbourne and moved to Milan with my sisters and parents when I was fi ve because Mum and Dad were homesick for the mother country. We came back to Australia when I was nearly eight and I couldn't speak a word of English. My parents didn't speak the language properly until I was in grade 6.
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My dad had eight fruit stalls at the Queen Victoria Market and I would go there with him. It was a family tradition. My uncles and aunts all sold fruit and veg. It was a cliché but as a result we tended to stick with the Italians and our Italian community.
All my mum's family came to Melbourne so there were 14 cousins and we were all very close. My friends were mainly my cousins who were also my schoolmates. I spent a lot of time with my cousins Donna and Daniela growing up as we were closer in age than I was with my sisters.
The thing I remember most about Australia as a kid is long picnic and barbecue lunches with all of us in a park, because there were too many of us to invade one another's homes. A typical Saturday was spent with my sisters, Mum and Dad at home watching Dean Martin and Jerry Lewis movies or the AFL – they are big Carlton supporters – after a big pasta lunch.
Australia was the land of opportunity and my parents embraced that twice. Th ey came here looking for prosperity and jobs after the war destroyed farming communities in the north and while they yearned for the old country in the mid-'70s they ultimately came back because it was better here.
My dad didn't think Italy was the right place to bring up his daughters. I didn't understand it at the time but as I got older I realised he was an incredible feminist. I had a blessed and privileged life in Australia and I owe that to the decisions my parents made.
There is a real innate sexism about Italy – a legacy from the Berlusconi era and it is still quite evident. Women are seen much more as ornaments. In so many other ways the country is progressive and dynamic and I love visiting, but I wouldn't have wanted to grow up there.
Emma (middle) and cousin Daniela. Photo: Supplied
DAMI IM
Singer, 28
I migrated to Australia from South Korea when I was nine and became an Australian citizen at 14. My father sent us here for a better life. He stayed in South Korea, working and sending us money, before joining us a few years later.
Photo: Peter Brew-Bevan
When my mother, brother Kenny and I arrived in Brisbane we moved into a townhouse with a pool. We would use it every day after school. Australia was so different to Korea – we'd catch lizards on our lunch breaks and play on the grass outdoors. It was always warm.
Being at one with nature stood out to me because I didn't really have that in Korea. It's more about city living in apartments with huge buildings everywhere and not much nature around. In Australia we would walk in the bush, go for a swim and it was a super-relaxed lifestyle by comparison.
I couldn't speak much English when I arrived and it took a few years to learn. My brother and I were the only Asian children at our primary school, Southside Christian College. Everybody was curious about us – some kids made fun but most meant well. It was there I started to play the piano and my music teacher encouraged me to audition for the Young Conservatorium [of music] at Griffith University in Brisbane. The language barrier aff ected my confidence but the piano helped with that. Playing the piano was my big thing as a kid.
At the Conservatorium, I had opportunities to perform in the Queen Street Mall. Adults would shop and see me perform and say nice things. It was a friendly atmosphere.
I remember tasting a chicken pie for the first time when Mum took us to Fraser Island. I hadn't experienced that before. Dad bought us sandwiches with chocolate in it – turned out it was Vegemite. I thought the taste was strange.
I do wonder what my life would have been like if we stayed in Korea and if Dad didn't decide to migrate. I probably would be living a more ordinary life. Australia is great in that it encourages you to embrace your uniqueness and chase your dreams, whereas in Korea it's culturally better to blend in and live like everybody else.
Dami Im, as a year 6 student, performing in Brisbane city. Photo: Supplied
KIM BRENNAN
Olympic rower, 31
I grew up in Lower Templestowe in Melbourne. Family holidays were often spent in the Mallee – a sheep and wheat farming area where my dad is originally from. We would go yabbying, run up salt stacks and play on sand dunes.
Photo: Getty Images
Mum's parents had a place at Rye on the Mornington Peninsula and we'd visit in summer and go to the beach. Mum taught my brother Justin and I to enjoy the water, how to body surf and identify rips. Summer was also a time for cricket on the beach.
Sport was always a part of my youth. Mum and Dad would drive my brother and I to do things like hockey, basketball, swimming and surf lifesaving. My dad played VFL and my brother played basketball and AFL.
My parents thought sport was a way to get us involved in the community. Th ey value the lessons sport taught us – to try our hardest but respect our opponents and keep practising.
I went to a private girls' school, but my parents made sure I didn't think that was normal so I had a lot of exposure to people at all levels.
Australia Day was always celebrated with a barbecue. Dad does most of the cooking in our house. Any opportunity to use the barbecue and invite friends over, we'd do it. It was a way for adults to catch up and kids to get together and play in the backyard.
As a rower now we tend to train on Australia Day. It's also a tradition for us to listen to the Triple J Hottest 100. We usually have sausages and chops on the barbie for lunch and then row really hard straight after it. Everyone usually feels sick but it's totally worth it.
Kim Brennan during her school days. Photo: Supplied
SUSAN DUNCAN
Writer, 65
I was born in Albury-Wodonga and grew up in a migrant camp called Bonegilla in the 1950s. It was a truly wonderful experience. Lots of Europeans came here post-World War II. My father was in the army and my mother was a nurse's aide with the army, and they worked in the region during the war. They stayed at the migrant camp and continued to work there after the war was over.
Photo: Edwina Pickles
Everyone looked out for one another because the memories of war were still so raw. It gave me a strong understanding of community and how communities can make individuals stronger.
Christmas time at Bonegilla was all about 44-gallon kegs and a slop bucket sitting under it. I remember our horse, Lady, drinking all the slops and being unable to walk. It was a joyful and fun time. I remember eating lots of watermelon and being told if I swallowed a seed a watermelon would grow in my tummy.
Migrants would go up to Mum and surreptitiously unroll a painting. Australians didn't quite understand European art, but Mum was curious and wanted to buy a painting. Dad was like it's "too dark". Later she wondered if she had been looking at a Rembrandt.
I had a Polish boyfriend and Latvian, German and Italian friends growing up. I saw families grow vegetables in their garden and from a young age I tasted capsicum, eggplant and home-grown tomatoes. I was raised on lamb chops, peas and mashed potatoes, though.
My brother and I spent our childhood watching tennis and cricket. It was a summer thing to do. It was always stinking hot, asparagus rolls were posh and chicken sandwiches were the norm. I remember us kids calling out "snake, snake" and finding someone at the camp to chop off its head with a shovel.
There was a huge cultural divide in the 1960s. Cultured Europeans were coming to Australia and they were surrounded by tough larrikin Aussie spirits who found it a little diffi cult to understand what they were all about. In the end it was a great melding of both sides of the world, if you like.
For the migrants, Australia was the new country and for us it was saying this is how we do it here – we get the keg, we stand around, we shoot the breeze. It was about making your own entertainment as a community rather than going to fi reworks. Life was simpler.
Susan Duncan and brother John at Bonegilla migrant camp. Photo: Supplied