I am from --
To kick things off, let’s talk about what inspired me to write this post...
I recently had to go for an event where making friends was err... Essential. If you knew me, you would know that I’m a fairly social person - I love interacting with strangers of different personalities and background, and I like to think that I get along quite well in a culturally-diverse pool of people.
So back to this event - I found myself anxious not because I had to make friends, but because the realization of the fact I'll get asked the usual questions like "Where are you from?" dawned upon me. Now, here’s where the struggle of being a Third Culture Kid (TCK) comes in.
“Where are you from?”
When you’re a TCK, a simple question like “Where are you from?” comes with inexplicable complexity. A 10-second war is declared mentally; an internal argument considering our physical belonging, psychological belonging and emotional belonging commences before blurting out an extremely summarized answer. Sometimes, I ask "Do you wanna guess?" to make things a little bit more fun. After which, a shot of worry shows across their face, and I get my cue to say "Don't worry, I've heard all sorts of answers. I won't get offended". And much to my surprise, I hear a new nationality every single time I ask. Truth be told; sometimes, I wish that I had a poster of my life story that comes together with an FAQ section.
Despite already-having a short and long template answer, we can’t help but struggle at the question. And I find myself struggling even harder the older we get. And like what they often say: Home is a feeling, not a place. And until the time I find a place that feels like home, I will continue to share my story and play guessing games with everybody.
But that is what makes being a TCK so exciting; you figure your own story out as you go along, and how you put it out there is never the same.It is constantly evolving, and you will never run out of stories and knowledge to impart onto your peers.
“Why is your accent like that?”
When you spend your developing years in an international school, the ‘international school’ accent will tend to stay with you throughout your life, no matter which country you go to. Often recognized as American, more often than not, you will hear a tinge of at least 3 different accents here and there because we catch how our friends and teachers speak. When I was younger, I never had to order my own food because food was provided in school and you just had to queue up for it (and yes, you can go for a second round if you wanted to). Even if I did, my orders were fine and I got my cold milo and Hello Panda as asked.
Life got trickier when we moved to Singapore. Don’t get me wrong, growing up in Malaysia, I am no stranger to malay slangs like lah, wor, and even walao eh. But the real struggle came in when I had to order things as simple as a bottle of water in a kopitiam. Not having to experience such an arduous situation before, I realized that I had to adapt and I had to adapt quick.
Being a TCK, you grow up to become flexible, versatile and easy-going because you know that simple solutions like a slight change in how you pronounce a word can turn things around for you. You simplify precarious situations, break them down and streamline your options to reach a feasible solution.
You start to feel like you belong to nowhere in particular
Growing accustomed to being surrounded by people who are in the same boat as you - children of expats, ‘international school kids’ of different nationalities, background, and culture - you start to get used to being different. Only because being different was the norm (Oh, the sweet taste of irony). But once you are torn out of that ‘it’s-normal-to-be-different’ culture, and are forced into the complete opposite scenario, you start to feel lost. Despite English being the common language, I could not help but feel misplaced. I looked different, I spoke different, my thought process was different, my body language was different (Hell, even my sense of humor was different!) - I was different. It was an obstacle I had to combat and learn from alone because I knew my siblings were also going through the same struggle.
Overtime, you start to embrace being different because that is what makes you who you are. You are a collection of every single person you have met and every single city or country you have visited; taking with you only the best fragments to become the person that you are today. The best part is, you are not even done yet.
You become desensitized to goodbyes
Studying/growing up in international school meant your classmates/friends will eventually need to go back to their home country, or move elsewhere with their parents. Having to give my first wave of goodbyes to my primary 3 classmates back in my hometown, and then constantly having to bid farewell to my classmates/friends in Malaysia, I knew at an early age that people come and go and concluded that goodbyes were normal.
The crushing dolefulness people would typically feel when a friend leaves is an alien emotion to us. Instead, we get excited about their departure because we know that a new environment means new experiences and new adventures for them.
Settling down is no longer a problem, because you know that you are never going to settle down. Instead, you and exotic lands are tightly intertwined like lovers in a sandy beach; inquisitive yet receptive to whatever comes your way. And whatever that may be, it is another chapter added to your book.
It’s not always a bad thing..
With all that said, I must admit: being a Third Culture Kid has its perks. The friends you make are friends-for-keeps, no matter the distance. You see the world in a different light from others - You appreciate many things, big or small, a lot might not. You recognize your blessings because you very well know that it could be much worst. Most importantly, you know the importance of basking in the now, because you know that it could all be gone/different by tomorrow.
