The Maltese in Australia: Family relationships and the second generationAuthor: Henry Briffa I recently spoke with an Australian woman who developed a fascination with Malta in her travels. She returned to Australia and set out to undertake a library search on Mental Health issues and the Maltese in Australia. Finding little printed matter from which to begin, she decided not to pursue her topic of interest but to research something else unrelated to the Maltese. This may be construed as reflecting something about the woman concerned, but could it perhaps also say something of the social reality she found herself up against? Personally, I viewed the decision to be quite sad, but I could certainly empathise with the feeling of getting nowhere. It is hoped that through sharing my thoughts about the myth that the Maltese in Australia have adapted easily, I may be able to understand more about what might be unconscious and intemalised in some second generation Maltese. I acknowledge I am working from broad generalisations, working from a point of not knowing very much in the hope that I may learn something more. In my work I value the creation of a space in which I can think, reflect and acknowledge what I do not know along with what I do know. An analysis of the outer world can provide a reliable mirror of internal functioning. So what I am proposing is to take you through a deconstruction of the myth in that it may shed some light on what I am attempting to understand. Let us accept that such a myth has existed in the history of the Maltese in Australia, keeping aside for the moment whether the Maltese or the Australians have done more to keep it alive. Let us just take the myth and explore its impact and view it as a product of the relationship. Myths are created to serve a need. They have function and meaning, at least at the time they were created. York's (1986) historical account of the Maltese in Australia would suggest that one function of this myth is that it might have provided safety and refuge for an olive skinned people in the White Australian world. To be viewed as British was conceivably much more self protective than being viewed as 'other'. In a world where skin colour has been construed as black or white, the Maltese had to be clearly positioned, by both the Maltese in Australia and by the larger Australian community. Black or white? These were and still are the only options. Cauchi (1990 p. 20) citing an OMA survey, has noted, "Maltese felt close associations with Australian, British, Italian, and other Europeans, but not with Asians, Lebanese, Turkish, or Jewish nationals". I find this quite fascinating. In terms of skin pigmentation and linguistic roots, could it not be argued that we also have close associations with the latter? I was less surprised, for example, when an associate approached me earlier today and said "Are you Maltese? I thought you were Jewish". I stand here today with two other psychologists who are keen to develop an understanding of the Maltese in Australia, within a forum concerned specifically with Maltese youth. There would appear to be a growing interest in exploring the Maltese in Australia and their relationships, and I'd like to acknowledge the part played by Victoria University and the Maltese Community Council of Victoria in building these bridges. For those interested, forums such as this can provide a 'social container' for sharing experiences. Where would we be without such forums to contain and expose the boundaries of our shared reality? At the Maltese community level, I can imagine that the myth that we adapted easily may function as follows: it may provide a challenge to the shared reality, the shared experience of the Maltese in Australia. If the difficulties cannot be fully articulated, shared at a social level, opportunities for relationship-building may be missed in the wider Maltese community. Relationships in which important experiences cannot be acknowledged are likely to become brittle and in time crack under pressure. Needs might not be met, and so people may look elsewhere in an attempt to find expression for a shared experience. We could imagine that groups might form, split and split again. The myth would serve to fragment rather than construct a shared reality and a shared community. The group of Maltese may turn to fight/flight, pairing or fission/fusion (Bion 1989), but somehow the primary task of developing a Maltese community would get frustrated. On a political level, in attempts at constructing an interface between the Maltese and the greater Australian community, the myth of the Maltese adapting easily would make it very difficult for a social container to function efficiently. If we adapt easily, even if we are seen to adapt easily, Australian government attention can be directed elsewhere. The task of bridging two cultures is significantly large, but the politically oriented group could be emasculated by a mythology that viewed its very existence as unnecessary. Institutes such as branches of the Australian government, living by the myth, would see little need to construct bridges and build relationships that acknowledged cultural difference. What about the internal dynamics of groups such as Maltese ethno-specific health and social work services? These groups are established with the sole aim of acknowledging the settlement needs of the Maltese, but in the face of this myth, they may feel under enormous strain, both from their efforts to contain a burden that elsewhere cannot be acknowledged and, in addition, by themselves being uncontained within a broadly unsupportive social reality. Working in such a context seems like a recipe for stress and bum out. A group that serves to acknowledge the cultural needs of the Maltese, if it were to exist along side such a myth, may need to expend significant energies establishing and maintaining its identity. This may detract significantly from the task at hand. Through being conscious of its precarious position, such a work group could position itself along-side other interested groups that may assist it to help contain the tension in its striving for life and creativity (building bridges) while facing the destructive side of this myth. If the myth serves to frustrate the efforts of the Maltese at a communal, political and welfare level, and significantly drains the energy of support services, where can the cultural differences of the Maltese community find expression? The church has always played a role in Maltese communal life, and the festas are celebrated despite the myth. But is this sufficient? Perhaps much of what it is to be Maltese is contained within the family and finds little expression outside the family. This would leave the Maltese family in Australia in the unenviable position of having to contain a significant amount of what it feels like to be Maltese in Australia. If this were so, families may be without much sense of how other families may be negotiating the difficulties of settling into a new way of life. Perhaps some families have cultivated an image of having adapted easily and pride themselves on this mythology. In the face of this it may be difficult to give voice to family problems. If there were no social container that could acknowledge the 'otherness' of the Australian and the Maltese, the Maltese family, within the safety of the family, may have to work to build the bridges for itself as a family. This would place considerable demands on the family group in its attempts to build bridges for itself, in a world where there was not much gained from how other family groups are managing in parallel attempts to build bridges. Rather than sharing the burden of adapting, the burden would become magnified in a family with little external supports. Cultural differences become contained within the family. Pincus (1978) argues that family secrets serve to preserve something that the family values, to construct a boundary that can assist the group to function. But to what extent do the first generation Maltese consciously share their settlement difficulties with their children? Do we have discussions at the family level about just how complex immigration is? Or rather, are these difficulties contained by the parents (perhaps to protect the children from difficulty) and largely unspoken? If they were not acknowledged within the family, they are likely to keep raising their head within the family dynamic in unconscious ways. If these issues are not conscious at both the social and familial level, they are likely to be carried into the unconscious of the second generation. Should this be the case, we might expect to have a group of second generation Maltese in Australia who contain their Malteseness locked deep within, who lack access to this part of their being, and who on the surface may seem quite 'Australian'. Such a denial of their true identity might significantly hinder their efforts in love and work at a fairly critical age. In terms of personal development, the challenge for this group would be to reclaim the Malteseness that the myth has denied them from owning. Myths shape our reality. While it may once have been adaptive in Australia 'not to be seen as other', the need to live by this myth may no longer exist. But this myth's persistence, the extent to which it still survives, suggests its genesis may exist deep in the Maltese psyche. We can think of Malta's history as a history of colonisafion, as one of being historically dependent rather than independent as a nation. The Greeks, the Romans, the Phoenicians, the Knights of St John and the English and others established governance and ruled over the islands. But the extent to which the colonizers may have provided the Maltese with safety in which their language, customs, values and traditions could be maintained needs to be kept in mind. Even more tentatively, Malta's history could be viewed as containing within it a myth of a powerful provider. It has frequently been argued that Malta would have been significantly worse off if it were not for the infrastructure, cities and churches built by the Knights and, in British times, the dockyards to provide employment. The truth or otherwise of this view is not the issue here, only that the view is in keeping with the myth of a powerful provider. In the Siege of 1565 and in World War 2, in what seemed like impossible circumstances, the colonial powers delivered for the Maltese, at the eleventh hour, the reinforcing troops or shipment of food that contributed, along with the bravery of the Maltese, to saving Malta from the enemy. The present theory about the lost civilisation of Neolithic temple builders (cf. Segona 1997) is that the destruction of their civilisation was brought about by a failure to acknowledge the economic factors upon which the civilisation depended. Perhaps they too believed in a powerful provider. But let us return to the second generation Maltese youth in Australia. I have suggested that something of their Maltese identity may have gone underground. Being at an age in which they seek to establish their identity, they are likely, in the family situation and in the broader social context, to be clinging onto something Australian that is not quite theirs, not able to see themselves for who they truly are. In time, they may well shake off an image that does not fit. But if they looked for professional help, whom can they turn to who could help to hold up a mirror? Will they attend ethnospecific services for the Maltese? How will services not conscious of Maltese culture, particularly in the face of the myth, obtain a grasp of what it is these 'young Australians' (whose parents migrated from Malta) may be needing? I am reminded of Calypso ('she who conceals') whom we claim made her home in Malta. Odysseus held the desire to return home to Penelope, something the bewitching nymph could not shake off. The subsequent intervention of Athene and Zeus, and his determination and perseverance in the battle against death, buys his freedom. Source: Maltese Background Youth - Editors Cauchi M, Borland H, Adams R, 1999, [Europe Australia Institute], p 75
    
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