Navigating Parenting in a New Land

Language, Labels, and the Power of Words

5b8776d2: Welcome back to Critical Reflection, and thanks for joining us for week 5. I'm Agnieszka—coming to you from sunny Brisbane—and as always, I'm here with Paloma. Today we're turning the spotlight on the tricky territory of parenting as a migrant or refugee in Australia.

Paloma Cesare: Yeah, hi everyone! It’s great to be back. This is an episode I’ve wanted us to do for ages. Every term we hear so many questions from students—what’s the right language to use, why does this stuff matter, and, honestly, how can social workers get it so wrong sometimes? Right?

5b8776d2: It happens all the time. Just look at the language. There are so many terms—CALD, which stands for Culturally and Linguistically Diverse, or new Australian, or even global majority, and people of colour... The list goes on and every term seems to hit a nerve for someone, doesn’t it?

Paloma Cesare: Absolutely. And CALD, for example, was supposed to be better than the old ‘non-English speaking background’, but as the research points out, it still basically codes people as “other”—not fully belonging, even if they've lived here for generations.

5b8776d2: As someone who came from Poland, I can tell you, the labels follow you around and people make assumptions. Sometimes I get called “new Australian”, and, well, I suppose that’s meant to be welcoming. But it also erases the fact that I’m not “new” anymore, just trying to find my place like everyone else. And sometimes I wonder if these categories even help, because there are so many layers of difference and so much lateral exclusion—like between migrants who arrived with privilege and refugees who’ve escaped conflict... I mean, grouping us together isn’t always comfortable for anyone.

Paloma Cesare: Yeah, and the politics don’t stop there. Even something like whether to use “diverse” to describe clients—well, it sort of puts white Australians outside the idea of diversity, which is odd in a multicultural country. We see in practice, the language we choose, like you say, can either build trust, or accidentally shut someone out entirely.

5b8776d2: Exactly. It’s not just splitting hairs. Words carry power—they can give you a sense of belonging, or remind you that you’re always “different”. That’s why for social workers, it’s not enough to go with whatever is politically correct right now. We need to understand what terms mean, who they include, who they leave out, and honestly, always check ourselves and ask, “what term can people actually live with?” Sometimes that’s as good as it gets.

Paloma Cesare: And maybe be ready for ongoing conversations, right? Having humility to listen when someone says “that language really doesn’t sit right with me”. These aren’t easy questions, but they really are the foundation for better practice—especially when system-level labels can reinforce inequality. We’re seeing more discussion about this—like challenging the use of CALD at a policy level—but it really starts one-on-one, doesn’t it?

Parenting Across Cultures: Collectivism vs. Individualism

5b8776d2: It absolutely does. Now, I want to talk about what happens when collectivist parenting lands in an individualistic place like Australia. I remember first coming here and, honestly, feeling like the whole “it takes a village” thing was sideways—everyone’s so private, so independent... And then being judged as too involved or, sometimes, too strict. It’s disorienting.

Paloma Cesare: Yeah, there’s such a mismatch in expectations. The research and lived experience both highlight this. Collectivist cultures—like many African, Indian, or Middle Eastern backgrounds—focus on the whole family. Extended family, even neighbours, are part of raising kids. There is community input, shared responsibility, sometimes even pooled finances. Coming here, families lose that village, and suddenly, parents have to parent in a bubble. It can be incredibly isolating.

5b8776d2: And then add all the new rules about what’s considered “good parenting.” Back home, authoritarian or collective styles can be about respect and care. Here, using those same strategies—physical discipline, involved decision making—might get you reported to child protection. It’s not about bad intentions; it’s about living in two worlds that don’t always fit together.

Paloma Cesare: Let’s talk about the case study from the reading: Sofia and her husband Chala. They moved here from Kenya with their seven kids, landed in Brisbane, then relocated to Western Australia because… well, because they needed community. That feeling of isolation—unable to find traditional foods, the loss of familiar supports—it was huge. When they reached out to Intensive Family Support, that wasn’t just about practical help, was it?

5b8776d2: No, it’s emotional, too. Imagine landing somewhere completely new, losing your support network, and suddenly being told how you’re supposed to parent. For Sofia and Chala, saying “yes” to intervention meant a chance to be understood, to connect to services and feel a bit less alone. And I think that’s why they moved—they needed to rebuild that sense of belonging.

Paloma Cesare: For migrant and refugee parents in this situation, parenting becomes a negotiation between maintaining traditions—like the importance of education, collective routines, group respect—and adapting to legal expectations and cultural norms in Australia. It’s a push and pull, especially when children start acculturating faster than parents. Suddenly, there’s a fear that kids will lose touch with their roots, and a sense of shame or guilt creeps in, especially when discipline styles or day-to-day routines don’t match local expectations.

5b8776d2: And there’s so much pressure. Parents are registered with various systems—school, health, Centrelink—all expecting them to navigate in English, learn rules about “acceptable” parenting practices, and sometimes deal with poverty, unemployment, or trauma from their migration journey. We see families doing their best, but the risk of being misunderstood, or worse—reported to child protection—never really disappears.

Paloma Cesare: The literature shows attempts to adapt, like negotiating new discipline techniques, or prioritising kids’ autonomy. But this “letting go” of familiar practices is really complex, and the support isn’t always ongoing. After five years of funded support, families are expected to manage totally independently, which is quite a short runway for such major transitions. It’s clear from Sofia’s story how critical community connection and culturally safe support are for families in this position.

Intersectionality and the Role of Social Workers

5b8776d2: And that brings us to the big one—intersectionality. Parenting in a new land for many migrant and refugee families isn’t just about culture. There’s racism, there’s patriarchy, religion—it’s a web. Parents have to teach their children about race—how to cope with racial profiling, or just how to handle microaggressions at school. I know, for African families especially, the pressure for kids to prove themselves at school, to not stand out “for the wrong reasons”, is so heavy and sometimes invisible to others.

Paloma Cesare: I see this a lot in my previous mental health work. The emotional load is multiplied by those intersectional pressures—racism, gender expectations, community scrutiny. For example, Somali and other African parents worry their children are being watched more closely by services, schools, or even neighbours, and harsh judgments can follow simple things like traditional dress or food. And for Indian families, sometimes the cultural capital of education makes adaptation a bit easier, but it doesn’t erase the emotional impact of trying to straddle two worlds.

5b8776d2: Gender is huge, too. In some collectivist cultures, shifts in gender roles can lead to conflict or stress—like when women move into paid work or when patriarchal authority is questioned. I think the key is, as practitioners, not assuming these dynamics are static. We need to build trust, be alert to family violence risks, and offer gender-safe support, but also not make assumptions about people’s private family structure based on where they come from.

Paloma Cesare: Absolutely. Religion and tradition can be strengths, but they can also create tension—like issues around discipline, or the use of traditional medicine, or practices such as female genital cutting, which is obviously a huge red line in Australia. It’s sensitive territory, but as social workers, pretending these aren’t live issues just makes things harder for everyone. Supporting families to understand changes in law and navigate that safely, with respect and without shaming, can prevent trauma or breakdowns in trust.

5b8776d2: And, well, providing an interpreter isn’t enough. I see this so often—the “tick the box” mentality. Language support is essential, but true cultural competency asks us to go much further. Reflective practice, structural support for workers, and ongoing training are all crucial. We can’t just expect families to adapt entirely; there’s an onus on services and systems to do the work, too.

Paloma Cesare: Yeah, and the research really stresses that we’re not just talking about the “right” word or interpreter services—actual cultural competency is about deep listening, humility, reflection, and challenging our own biases within our workplaces. And look, like we talked about in our episode on Indigenous families, effective change means ongoing dialogue, creating space for self-determination, and taking account of all those forces—racism, class, trauma—that shape every family’s story.

5b8776d2: So, to wrap up today, we’ve hopefully shown how layered these experiences are for migrant and refugee families raising kids in Australia—and how the role of the social worker needs to be as dynamic and nuanced as the families we serve. There’s always more to learn, and more to reflect on next time.

Paloma Cesare: Thanks so much for sharing your insights, Agnieszka. And thank you to everyone listening for engaging in this critical reflection with us. We’ll be back soon to keep exploring where practice meets real lives. Take care!

5b8776d2: Thanks, Paloma. Good to chat, as always. Bye everyone, see you next time.