Third Culture Kids (TCKs) are people who grew up abroad throughout most, if not all, of their formative years. This can start as early as kindergarten or even as late as middle school.
While there are many misconceptions surrounding the upbringing of TCKs, there are also a lot of things people who've only been born and raised in one country can't even begin to comprehend. Here's the lowdown.
But first, what the hell is a Third Culture Kid?
IMAGE: Afar
Aside from having lived in one or more foreign countries throughout the most important stages of development, TCKs are people who've come to adopt multiple cultures as their own, usually from their host country(s).
Most TCKs are also bilingual, or in some cases, multilingual, by speaking their mother tongue, while also gaining fluency in the language of their past (if any) and current host nations. This has often played to their advantage when seeking jobs in an increasingly globalized world.
As an adult TCK, I find myself thinking in German while speaking English (my one, true mother tongue) every now and then. Though I'm a Malaysian citizen born in Malaysia, I can't speak a lick of Malay. My TCK upbringing is partly to blame, along with my laziness to relearn the language.
TCKs are often the children of military personnel, diplomats, global educators, missionaries, and other travel-oriented occupations.
UN diplomats at work. Fun fact: My dad is in the photo. IMAGE: United Nations Association / Flickr
With this in mind, TCKs can and do expect to move to a new country, and effectively a new 'home' every few years due to the posting obligations of their parents' jobs. This can mean a lot of things for a young TCK.
The first of which involves making new friends. When we're younger, it's often easier for us to do this, save for the copious amount of distrust and jadedness that we feel as adults.
Personally, I was an awkward kid. But even then, the fact that I was surrounded by so many fellow TCKs at school made it really easy to befriend others. This is a common theme among TCKs in general. We tend to gravitate toward one another because of our shared experiences with constant relocation. We're all used to adjusting and adapting. In fact, that's the only constant thing in a TCK's life – the need to adapt.
TCKs are used to saying goodbye, even if they don't want to.
Drama class was always my favorite. IMAGE: Danial Martinus / Mashable Southeast Asia
It leads to a sort of social dilemma. Do we not foster any close friendships while we're in a host nation and make the inevitable transition to a new country easier? Or do we make the best of our time spent in one place, but face the harrowing grief we're bound to encounter when we inevitably move to another?
With every new job posting (usually every two-to-four years), comes the feeling of impending doom fused with curious excitement. We're scared of leaving behind the friendships we've made, but we're also super amped for what's to come – the opportunity (or arduous task) to start all over again on a fresh slate.
Some transitions are easier than others. I, for one, was extremely excited to move from Frankfurt, Germany, all the way to the Big Apple. It seemed like a dream come true. Even when I broke the news to my friends and teachers, I didn't get one sad or sombre reaction. Instead, every single person I told was either excited, or at the very worst, worried (due to the stereotypes of high crime rates in New York City).
When asked, TCKs have trouble describing where 'Home' really is.
Hi, it me. IMAGE: Danial Martinus / Mashable Southeast Asia
Since TCKs move around a lot and tend to adopt the local culture of their host nation, they start to feel like a part of that society. Their actual country of birth and/or citizenship may just be a holiday destination they visit every summer. Malaysia was definitely that for me.
Aside from the famed 'Malaysia, Truly Asia' song, (sung by 2004 Malaysian Idol winner Jaclyn Victor) that basically everybody knew, my only connection to Malaysia was my extended family.
Now imagine moving to multiple countries over the course of 10 to 15 years. It's a lot to take in, which means there's a lot that a TCK can relate to when it comes to cultures and traditions.
If you were to ask a TCK where they're from, the diplomatic answer would be that of their passport nation. But if they were to answer from the heart, things would get significantly more confusing. They may be citizens of one country, but may have also developed and nurtured more memories in a different country. This is when the conventional definition of 'home' can get dicey.
To the TCKs that hold dual-citizenships: Well, good luck.
The hardest part is moving back to your passport nation, wherever that may be.
IMAGE: Danial Martinus / Mashable Southeast Asia
I graduated high school in New York City. This signaled an impending doom for me, since I knew it was time to go back to Malaysia to pursue tertiary education. You see, after having spent practically all my life abroad, living in countries like Saudi Arabia, Brunei, Germany, and the U.S., I had grown accustomed to being a foreigner. While there are many drawbacks to that, there are certain benefits that outweigh these disadvantages.
Being a foreigner meant that I could get away with certain things - like not being able to speak the local language, as well as not having to familiarize myself with local customs and traditions. Although most TCKs do make an effort to assimilate (and successfully so), we're generally not expected to. Logically speaking, there's no real point in trying, since you'll be leaving in a couple of years anyway.
IMAGE: Danial Martinus / Mashable Southeast Asia
This brings me to one of the biggest struggles that a TCK can face - feeling like a complete alien in their passport nation, aka the conventional meaning of 'home.' Because of the fact that TCKs generally spend the majority of their lives abroad, their passport nation becomes a sort of mystery when it comes to social customs and traditions.
When moving back to their passport nations, TCKs often face a gruelling transition phase in which they come to terms with how life is really like back 'home.' In most cases, this change isn't that welcoming either. But much like moving to a different country, TCKs learn to adapt.
From my own personal experience moving back to my passport nation, Malaysia, I landed in the country with a few crutches. The first of which was my inability to speak Malay (which still prevails to this day, but I'm getting better), which got me into a lot of hot water with a handful of locals.
This tested my patience, especially when I was at driving school, learning how to drive. Snide comments and rhetorical questions like "You're a Malaysian, and you can't speak Malay? What kind of Malaysian are you?" were all too common. It was as though I was targeted and to a certain extent, the subject of intimidation, for not being able to speak the national language.
Minute details like choice of clothing can also affect the way people see TCKs in their passport nations. For context, I have a love for white sneakers. They look super clean and go with everything. But I digress. When I first started college in Malaysia, people kept asking me why I wear 'school shoes.' In my head, I was asking myself what the fuck these people were on about.
White sneakers are the best. IMAGE: Danial Martinus / Mashable Southeast Asia
Little did I know, kids in the Malaysian public school system wore white shoes as part of their uniform. So wearing anything other than white shoes was their interpretation of going casual. With a recent boom in Malaysian sneaker culture, I no longer get asked why I wear 'school shoes.' But looking back at the earlier years I spent in Malaysia, I must've looked like a weirdo.
Adult TCKs soon realize that 'home' isn't defined by the place you live in; it's about the people you're with.
I quit smoking (cigarettes) a long time ago. IMAGE: Danial Martinus / Mashable Southeast Asia
Everyday, little by little, I'm still learning more about Malaysian societal ideals. I may not necessarily agree with every single one of them, but I accept what I can't change. I credit that mentality whole-heartedly to my TCK upbringing.
While I may have had a rather unique childhood compared to my Malaysian friends, at the end of the day, it's about being able to share these experiences with others. Whether they can relate to it or not is irrelevant.
After all, variety is the spice of life.
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Cover image sourced from Danial Martinus / Mashable Southeast Asia.
