TCKs will have a different sense of identity. I finally learned what that means.
The other day I was shocked to hear my 11 year old say she doesn’t consider herself an American.
Wait. What?
For a school assignment, she needed to research a question related to her home country. “I really don’t feel like the US is my home,” she said with a hint of apology and confusion, “so I chose Oman. Can you help me with my homework?”
Parents of TCKs, beware! It's worth educating yourself on this topic.
When we first moved overseas I heard about seminars for parents raising third culture kids (TCKs). My kids were so young, I didn’t attend, but at least I knew that I’d need to learn about this topic down the road.
As time passed I began to see the signs. Little things that felt like big things:
- My daughter didn’t know what a quarter was (nor a dime nor a penny).
- She didn’t know that Thanksgiving is our biggest holiday and means a four day weekend.
- She didn’t know any of the states … or capitals, or national parks, or geography, or … anything.
Because being told is not the same as knowing.
When we relocated to another country, I found some short guides that were great for helping kids process a move. Later I read Third Culture Kids Growing Up Among Worlds (David C. Pollock and Ruth E. Van Reken) and found it immensely helpful. (Reading that book was a journey in itself – I’ll post about it separately).
So I “knew” that my children’s identity would be different from mine. But being told is not the same as knowing. Then it smacked me in the face.
I was shocked at how different her identity struggle was from my own identity investigation.
Back to the homework situation:
Of the places we’ve lived, I am least likely to claim Oman as my own. I also find it more difficult to find information about Oman, but said that I was certainly willing to help.
I stayed composed, circumspect, while helping with her assignment, but inside I was thinking,
“You’re not American? How is that even possible?
Both your parents are American. All of your grandparents and cousins live in the US, and we go there every summer.
Well then, who ARE you anyway? As if there are alternatives.
Clearly you’re not Thai and you’re not Omani.I must have failed at parenting for things to turn out like this.”
I had a strong urge to stock up on DVD collections of Leave It To Beaver and The Brady Bunch, … as if that could magically fortify her with the proper sentiments.
I felt as if part of me had been lost, as if I had failed to pass on something very basic.
I knew our life choices were leading to this conclusion … yet, I somehow had not really grasped how radically different my child’s sense of identity would be. I knew that she would be less tied to the US than I am. I did not appreciate that she would not even claim my country.
Our country.
Her country.
So now I find myself in a strange new world, where I claim to be an American and my oldest child does not.
She has no desire to make a political statement. She is not rejecting the “bad” parts of the US. She is not frustrated or disillusioned with policies or cultural norms gone awry.
It is because she does not know America. She simply absorbs what surrounds her. Despite everything we have passed on, despite our ongoing conversations about “our culture,” she does not identify with the common worldviews, attitudes, understandings, and experiences that form American culture.
Since moving overseas, I have struggled to identify the unique aspects of American culture. However, I did grow up in the US and have a firm foundation.
- I recited the pledge of allegiance every morning at school.
- I watched Little House on the Prairie, The Cosby Show, Cheers, Friends, and Seinfeld.
- I absorbed the shock of The Challenger explosion with millions of fellow Americans.
- I participated in many spelling bees (yet am still confused about the plural of potato. Thank you, media who covered Dan Quayle’s gaffe and instructed us all in the shame such an error carries).
- American football was my favorite sport to play in P.E. class.
- I understand the rivalry over “pop” vs “soda”, coke vs pepsi, Ford vs Chevy.
But these are small, token bits of trivia. Even if I could pass on all this knowledge, it would not make my kids feel American.
How can we promote a certain national identity?
... Should we?
I am left with questions that I’m still wrestling through. What is national identity? Do I want to promote national identify (i.e., mine)? If so, how can I do it effectively?
I remember when the first McDonalds opened in our city in Thailand, and a friend was excited to take her kids on a special outing there. I was horrified. We moved to the opposite side of the globe to get away from this kind of thing! How can you support – even promote – this corporate behemoth that fills our guts with addictive, high calorie, terribly unhealthy, food-like substances? Her reply was simple:
It’s an essential American experience and they need to know it.
I did not understand it at the time. Now I know she was further along the path in intentionally parenting her TCKs.
To be clear, I don’t think taking my daughter to McDonald’s would have changed her internal compass. I also don’t think my daughter needs to “be an American.” This essay is about me, how I discovered what it means to be the parent of a TCK, and the questions I’ve pondered.
My journey is far from over. I don’t know quite what the future holds, but I look forward to growing together with my TCKs.
