Being a second-generation immigrant is a unique experience, different to that of first generations. As a child of Greek and Polish first-generation immigrants I have realised this from a young age. Whether it was people not being able to pronounce my name or being served some sort of bland chicken roast at my friend’s house, I always recognised a divide between mine and the culture of other Australians. The first time I noticed this was when I began to learn Greek. Unlike many Greek Australian peers, I had a tutor instead of going to Greek school – so my sister and I had to figure out on our own why there were six ways of writing ‘e’. Though I never got to mingle with kids at Greek school I began to understand and feel a lot closer to my heritage once I started to learn the language.