Brown… White … In-between…

Words by Dionne (she/they), 17 WA  To grow up brown is to be Sisyphus, without a crime. Atlas to your parents’, societies’, and your own standards In that order. To grow up brown out of India, is to be subject to both Western and Eastern societal pressures. A never-ending Pandora’s box of perceived failures. To…

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Disadvantaged from birth

Words by Jahin, 20 NSW From the moment I was born,They cut my umbilical cord,And attached a stigma instead,A warm welcome to the epicentre of excellence,At least that is what I was told. When I gaped at the feet that were to walk,An anchor dragged me along from my very first crawl,The dark hues on…

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Shy: an acceptable personality trait.

Words by Briana, 21 VIC People describe me as shy. It is neither said in a positive or negative light. Just an observation that people say to explain why I am the way I am. Just shy.  It’s a quiet word. The first letters are pronounced with a soft shhhh, like when you shush someone…

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Identity crisis

Words by Jahin, 20 NSW There was a period in my life,during high school,when a sense of belonging,equated to liquid gold. Sitting side by side,uniformed in similarity,Feeling whole and cherished,Being a ripple in the sea of voices. That was what my heart longed for. But after years of trying to mould myself for others,I realised…

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Hot Commodity

hot commodity - Read Article

Words by Sachini, 22 ACT “Jamie said you were a Brownie,” said my friend Katie. I remember looking down at my arms, feeling a stab of defensiveness shoot through my stomach. “I don’t care,” I had said. In that moment, 8-years-old, with my pink Big-W backpack – I really didn’t care. I was hurt because…

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Gifted, But Quirky

Gifted, but Quirky

Words by Jess, 23 VIC For me, being diagnosed with autism changed my life in an enormous way. I finally had an answer for all my life’s questions, and the more I looked into the female presentation of autism, the more of my existence made sense. I spent so many years feeling like I was…

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The Cost

The Cost | WhyNot

Words by Chelsea, 23 VIC He slapped my arse With a cardboard box He thought it was a joke, Of course. Brown cardboard, White skin, My privilege didn’t stop him. Laughing,  Walking across an invisible line                                                            Time stood still. ‘Breathe’… You’re fine.  For the shock of an action Made in a place; No vibration to…

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Reflections Next Victim

Reflections Next Victim | WhyNot

Words by Rebecca, 18 VIC I wrote this poem two years ago during my teenage years, before recently coming across it again and refining it. The piece explores my personal feelings towards the world and myself and how I struggled with finding my own identity in a world of stereotypes and prejudices as a 16…

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