When I was four years old, my family emigrated from the United States to Australia. My migrant story is quite a privileged one, my father was a skilled migrant, so we arrived as permanent residents and became dual-citizens not long after.   Compared to most Australian immigrants, this journey was almost too easy, however, that journey remains one of the defining moments of my life, my status as an immigrant and dual national equally so. I still have an accent, it’s faded, but I have the following conversation at least once a week;   Me: Insert dialogue… general greeting… small talk… conversation starter. Stranger: Oh, where are you from. Me: Brunswick (smile). Stranger: Oh no… I mean… before that. Me: Ah, yeah, Seattle, but…