Koraly Dimitriadis

Intrinsic and expressive, Koraly Dimitriadis is everything you’d expect from a poet. Then again, poetry isn’t the only ammo that she holds with pride in her repertoire. Koraly lives and breathes expressionism, boasting other titles such as writer and performer. I first became acquainted with Koraly and her work after covering the 2019 Melbourne SlutWalk event which took over the CBD last November. Her speech, addressing the entire SlutWalk conglomerate—allies, activists and those walking the streets of the city that day—sent ripples throughout the crowd. She has a lot to say, and she wants you to know about it.

BTS of film, How To Get A F--k. Directed by Nathan Little.

I came to know about you and your work from your speech at SlutWalk 2019. You expressed yourself with such passion—you did that spoken word piece, and it was just so incredibly received.

For anyone that isn’t familiar with you or your work, would you mind giving us a background as to who you are?

I would call myself a writer and a performer/actor. I have two poetry books; Love & Fuck Poems and Just Give Me The Pills. Together, they form the basis of my theatre show I Say The Wrong Things All The Time which premiered at La Mama in 2016 for a two-week season. I also am working on a fiction novel called Divided Island which I’ve been working on for over a decade. I also write opinion articles, and have been published in the Australian media and overseas.

A lot of my work is to do with cultural and religious repression, and I guess the aim of my work and everything that I do is motivated by wanting to connect with other people who are experiencing or have experienced any kind of oppression because I experienced it. It was a very isolating and lonely experience; I got married very young and just did what everyone told me to do, [but I eventually] exploded out of all of those expectations. It was very difficult and it was a very lonely road, and I didn’t really have anyone to turn to that understood, or any art to read that was from a female perspective about what I was going through. And so, really, my main aim of my work is to generate that art, to give those people the comfort and support that they need to get through whatever they’re going through so that they can become more empowered to live the life that they want to live.

I love that, and I love the fact that you actually harnessed in on cultural and religious repression. You’ve got a Greek background, is that correct?

Greek-Cypriot, yeah.

And have you got an orthodox background?

Yeah, I was raised in the Orthodox Church but I’m not religious anymore.

I’m very much the same. I was raised as part of the Coptic Orthodox Church so, although I can’t relate to what you’ve gone through, I can relate to the expectation-side of things. My grandparents were quite high-up in our church and, I remember when I was younger—without them even realising—they created this competitive nature between my cousins and I, and other members of the church. They’d say, you know, this person’s getting married, this person is a doctor, and so on. It’s somewhat nostalgic you mentioning that.

I just want to add to that as well—from that, I also write a lot about what it is to be the daughter of migrants and being part of a migrant community…that has a lot of expectations placed on the children. I definitely write about that stuff too.

Why do you think there is so much expectation put on migrant children to “succeed”?

Photo Credit: Kaliopi Malamas

Look—I try to be careful when I answer that question because I know that a lot of things have changed in the last, say, 20 years. For example, Divided Island; half of it is set in the 90s where I think that levels of expectation were really, really intense for cultures of Greeks, Italians and [so on]. Now, those cultures have evolved—we’re not the new kids on the block anymore—but there are other cultures that are newer to Australia that now have those expectations on them.

I think it’s because the migrants came [to Australia], they left their homelands, they cling to the past and they stick to traditions because that’s really all they have when they come here. I think particularly in my situation, because my parents came from very remote Cypriot villages, and they came to these big cities—which would’ve been very scary for them—all they had were those cultures and traditions and, so, they imposed them on their children. They don’t even realise how hard that is for their children and what they’re doing to their children’s lives. 

You were saying how you got married very young—did you want to get married at the time, did you feel obliged to? Were you essentially forced to get married?

That’s a really, really good question. I wanted to get married more than anything, and I think the reason for that was because I saw marriage as an escape and a lot of women did and do see marriage as a form of escape from a very strict family life. I think, just from women that I’ve spoken to, some women ran away from home if the family life was too strict while the others got married. Either way—whether you ran away from home or you ran away to a marriage—you’re running away still, you’re not dealing with the problem. For me, it was definitely about emancipation and I didn’t even think twice about…that’s the thing, because we had all of these expectations, we weren’t raised to think be independent, be a strong woman, do what you want in your life. We didn’t have that! It was [just] go to school, get married. We didn’t know any better. That’s why I try to make sure that my daughter is empowered and that she can make those choices.

People think well, why don’t you just leave? You don’t understand, it’s like being chained to those expectations. You don’t understand until you’ve lived it.

Absolutely. And I think even if people have gone through similar things, everyones experiences are still vastly different from another because there are so many other factors at play.

I remember you speaking about your daughter at SlutWalk, you being a single mother, and you wanting to be the best type of role model for her—do you mind me asking, how old is your daughter?

She’s a teen.

Do you have those harder discussions with her about what the world looks like and wanting to make her aware, or are you more cautious about what you do say to her and you want her to discover things by herself?

I would say that I educate my daughter, as much as I possibly can, about the realities of what’s out there. I tell her, for example, that I don’t want her to walk on her own. I try to educate her as much as possible and to try and have a really good relationship with her, so she can feel like she can talk to me about anything. That’s the most important thing, I think—to have a really good relationship with a child so they can come and tell you if they’ve got any problems. 

She doesn’t like it that I talk about things like well, I don’t want you to walk on your own because there are dangers out there. But at the same time, when I walk with her, I give her little tips—when you end up walking alone one day, be aware of your surroundings. This is the world we live in. I don’t like the world that we live in, I don’t like that I have to tell her these things but I’m not just going to send her out there and not inform her.

That’s right. You’re not just going to throw her into the deep end; you’re going to give her as much advice as possible while not completely scaring her off.

Yeah, I talk to her about everything: about sex, guys—whatever she wants to talk about. I wish I could have these kind of honest conversations with my parents, I never could. 

I’m 30 years old—and it’s funny that you bring up about walking down the street by yourself—I’m always wary. I’m always on guard—even in the middle of the day. I try and avoid walking alone at night where I can help it, I’m always looking over my shoulder. Like you said, it’s not nice that we have to be aware all the time, but that is the world that we live in.

It’s difficult for me because my daughter’s not always with me—she’s with her dad sometimes too. He’s got different ideas and different rules, but that’s why it’s even more important for me to educate her because I know that she will walk by herself at her dad’s house because he doesn’t mind. My job is to educate her as much as I possibly can and tell her—I don’t like it that you walk by yourself and these are the reasons why. 

Film still, How To Get A F--k. Directed by Nathan Little.

I know that when I was a teenager and my mum would tell me things—this isn’t speaking on behalf of your daughter, this is just personal experience—but I know, when I was a teenager, I thought that I was invincible and thought that I knew everything. My mum would tell me things and I would be like no, you have no idea. But now that I’ve gotten older, I’m more aware of what she’s saying and I understand why she said what she said. I think it’s something that people—especially females—will learn as they get older; having to be cautious of our surroundings and that the world we live in can be a scary place.

Yeah. Some people would disagree with what I’m saying—we can walk wherever we want and not have to worry and don’t tell women not to walk [alone] and this and that. But no, my daughter’s still young and she’s not aware. I know one day she will do things—I don’t want to be the kind of parent that stops my daughter from doing things. I’ll educate her was much as possible…but I don’t want to be a controlling parent.

There’s a different between educating your children and controlling them.

Just on that point you said about getting older—that’s what I really want to capture with Divided island, my novel. I actually go through different perspectives of the parents as well; that’s why I waited so long to finish this novel. It’s taken me…10-15 years, because I had to mature and had to understand the perspective of my parents. It’s the whole migrant experience, it’s not just my parents fault. It’s the church’s fault, it’s the migrant experience’s fault, it’s culture, it’s everything!

You’ve got a few roles in your repertoire, as you were saying before—you’ve got writer, you’ve got performer, poet, actor, activist. When did you find your voice and why do you think it’s so important for people to use theirs?

I found my voice when I left my marriage, I would say. It was kinda like a big—I call it a ‘volcanic eruption’. I left my marriage, I left a religion, I turned my back on everything and it was the first shout of my voice. That was at age 30. I think that was then, for me, I’ve had enough. That’s when my voice started coming out. Before that, I was writing in secret, I was a computer programmer—I was never encouraged to pursue art even though I wanted to pursue it…At that point, when everything happened, I was like no—stuff this. I’m going to do what I want for the first time in my life. I’m going to pursue my art, I’m going to live my own life, I’m going to go out there and find out who I am. And I think, the thing is, actually asking yourself who you are and going on that journey of figuring out who you are and what you want, you’ll always think that you’re not sure of what you’re doing in your life. The most important person you have to get to know in your life is yourself. I would encourage women to do that and not to be afraid, and no one has the right to stop you from doing that.

Did you get much backlash from those around you, like when that switch flicked for you and you decided to live for yourself? Being that you came from such a culturally dense, religious background, did you get quite a bit of backlash?

Yeah, absolutely! Backlash from everyone. Like I said, it was a very lonely road and it took years and years of work to meet my parents and my family half way—years, not months. Years. What I would say to those women that are thinking of making a move to start the journey to finding out who they are…I would say, it gets easier. It might feel like it’s going to be like this forever, but if you stand your ground and you say this is who I am and this is what I’m doing, don’t falter. Don’t let anyone stop you. Hold your ground and eventually everyone will come around…but it is hard work.

Film still, Best Friend. Directed by Nathan Little.

I love the fact that you did stand your ground because I think sometimes it’s easier for anyone—not just women—but anyone to feel that they should just give in to what they’re being told to do, whether that’s by their family or society, whatever it may be…It would just be “easier” to not have that fight, to not have those disagreements with people. I think it’s so important, like you said, to be able to stand your ground.

I know that there have been times where I’ve wavered what I’ve truly thought because I just wanted to make it [something] an easier experience, and I think that—in the long run—that’s hindered me more than anything. You’re absolutely right, though—standing your ground, no matter how hard it is, will definitely pay off in the long run. From what I can see with you, it’s paid off in spades.

It pays off but it comes at a price. You get tired, your body gets tired—it ages you. Going through a divorce, custody, standing your ground with your family—it’s all hard, hard work. But what’s the alternative? Just being miserable every day, hating your life. You’ve only got one life…

Might as well make the most of it, hey?

Now I know I touched on it before, but from hearing you speak at SlutWalk last year and all of the work that you do—have you ever had any backlash and, if so, what do people generally say?

I have been criticised for the rawness in my work…something that the critics may call unrefined. There is a sense within the arts [community] to conform. I mean, it was a real shock for me where I broke out of my culture where I was conforming, only to end up in the arts where it felt like someone was trying to make me conform. 

I think the reason why I haven’t conformed to what poetry should be or writing should be or the way you should speak or the way you should interact or the way you should critique or the way you should conduct your activism—why I haven’t conformed, and I won’t be the prim and proper girl that the arts community want me to be, is because of what I’ve experienced in my life. If you’ve been repressed for thirty years and you’ve exploded out, you can’t go back. And maybe, yes, I have settled since I first exploded out—that was about ten years ago…you know, I have settled a bit, but I’ll never conform. And if that means I won’t get that grant and I don’t get that opportunity, so be it.

The [people] that love you, they’ll always love you. And the ones that don’t love you will never love you. I’ve had residencies, international residencies and grants that I haven’t had here in Australia which sucks because this is my home. I would like to have more recognition here by the industry, but I won’t have that at the expense of losing sight of who I am and what I stand for and what I want my art to be. 

You’re obviously working on your book, but what’s next on the horizon for you?

I’ve gotten more into filmmaking lately—making short films of my poems. I used to make them with other people and now I make them on my own. I was about to tour the USA…so that’s been put on hold.

At the moment, I’m just finishing my novel and producing short films of my poems. When everything reopens, just working on getting my theatre show…I wanna re-stage my theatre show; so getting my theatre show up and running and doing some more touring. Touring is something that I love doing. But if that doesn’t happen, I’ll be starting another novel, another poetry book…I do have another novel and another poetry book in the pipeline.

I’m lucky in the sense, with this pandemic, that I am a writer so I can continue to write. I really feel for the people that perform and that’s all they do. Writers are in a fortunate position at the moment in terms of the whole art sector.

So, do you work on a few different things at once?

Yeah!

How do you find the energy?

This is what I do, I don’t have another job. I just write articles, make short films…I find it challenging that I do so much, but I like to have my fingers in different pies. I’ve never been the kind of person that could just focus on the one thing.