The Suburb That Shaped Me: Why I Chose to Stay
There’s something profoundly comforting about returning to the place where you grew up. For me, that place is Coburg, a suburb in Melbourne that has woven itself into the very fabric of my identity. I’ve often joked that buying a house around the corner from my childhood home might seem like a lack of ambition, but the truth is, it’s a decision rooted in a deep sense of belonging. Personally, I think this choice speaks to something larger—a desire to hold onto the roots that shaped us, even as the world around us changes.
What makes this particularly fascinating is how suburbs like Coburg evolve over time. When I was a child, it was a melting pot of cultures, a place where the smells of homemade tomato sauce and the sounds of multiple languages filled the air. My parents’ garage was a hub of activity, with sauce-making in March, wine-making in April, and curing meats in July. These traditions weren’t just about food; they were about community, about sharing a piece of ourselves with others.
One thing that immediately stands out is how gentrification has altered the landscape. The factories where my mother worked as a machinist are now artist studios, and the once-feared Pentridge prison is a family-friendly destination. While progress is inevitable, I can’t help but feel a twinge of sadness when markers of my childhood disappear. The house of my parents’ late neighbor, a fiercely independent woman who once called my parents “bloody wogs,” is gone, replaced by something new. It’s a reminder that change often comes at the cost of history.
What many people don’t realize is that suburbs like Coburg are microcosms of broader societal shifts. The diversity I experienced growing up—friends from Greece, Lebanon, Turkey, and beyond—exposed me to the world long before I ever left Australia. Today, as house prices rise and the area becomes more homogenized, I worry that my children are missing out on that richness. That’s why I make a point of immersing them in the traditions that defined my childhood, from Italian storytime at the library to Chinese New Year celebrations on Victoria Street.
If you take a step back and think about it, the decision to stay in one place is both a personal and political statement. It’s about valuing community over convenience, history over hype. My parents once considered moving to a newer suburb with more space, but my sister and I lobbied hard to stay in Coburg. We knew that its proximity to the city, its public transport options, and its vibrant culture were worth more than a fourth bedroom or a double garage.
This raises a deeper question: What do we lose when we chase the next big thing? In my opinion, the allure of trendy suburbs like Brunswick or Northcote often overshadows the quiet resilience of places like Coburg. Sure, it may never be as ‘cool,’ but it has something far more valuable—a sense of continuity, of being part of something larger than yourself.
A detail that I find especially interesting is how politics has always been intertwined with life in Coburg. Meeting Bob Hawke as a child, witnessing the rise of independent candidates, and seeing the area’s demographics shift—these experiences shaped my understanding of civic engagement. What this really suggests is that suburbs aren’t just places to live; they’re classrooms, laboratories of democracy where we learn to navigate the complexities of the world.
From my perspective, the decision to stay in Coburg isn’t about nostalgia; it’s about intentionality. It’s about choosing to invest in a place that has invested in me. My husband and I are saving to renovate our 1920s Californian bungalow, not because we want to keep up with the Joneses, but because we want to honor the history of this place while making it our own.
What this really suggests is that home isn’t just a physical space—it’s a feeling, a connection to the past, present, and future. My eight-year-old son’s reaction to realtor pamphlets—scrunching one up and walking away in a huff—tells me that he’s already internalized this lesson. He knows, as I do, that some things are worth holding onto.
So, while Coburg may never be the most fashionable or sought-after suburb, it will always be mine. It’s where I learned to be curious, to embrace diversity, and to value community. And as I look ahead to the next chapter—renovating our home, raising our children, and continuing to be part of this ever-evolving neighborhood—I know I’m exactly where I’m meant to be.
