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I have the privilege of posting this article by my father-in-law who also happens to be a parent of Third Culture Kids. He asked if  he could contribute a post here, and I’m grateful for his input:

Thanks, Susie, for the opportunity to contribute to these discussions.

I greatly admire Susie for a number of reasons.  In the present context, I admire her for the contribution she has made to the discussion of this topic.  Secondly, I admire her for the way in which she has handled the transitions in her life – a child in Sri Lanka, growing years in Nigeria, mid-teens in Sri Lanka, the move as a young adult to Australia and, perhaps the most remarkable of all, becoming a part of the peculiar culture of the Haydon family.  She is well qualified to write on this topic.

(My comment: I really wanted to – and did, for a while – take the previous paragraph out, as praise like this makes me uncomfortable. But I’ve been asked by my husband to pay my father-in-law a compliment and leave it in – so I have.)

I want to contribute as a maker of TCKs, a Third Culture Parent.  When my wife Ruth and I were first called to missionary service in Zambia, on the one hand we were excited and aware of the privilege that the Lord was giving us.  On the other hand it was not an easy move to make.  We had grown up in a small country district and had travelled very little even within Australia.  How would we get on travelling half way across the world to a strange country with four kids in tow?  All we could do was trust that the God who was enabling some of our friends to do a similar thing would enable us to do it too.

And then there was the matter of our children’s education.  Our two eldest kids, then 8 and 6, would have to go to a boarding school 700 kilometres from where we would be living.  They would do two semesters of 15 weeks with a mid year break of 10 weeks.  I recall many sleepless nights working through the mixed emotions as I wrestled with this situation.  How well I can remember the build up of emotion as the time came to make the long journey, on often difficult roads, to bring them home at the end of term.  There was an even worse build up as the time to take them back to school drew near.

Eventually all our children attended boarding school.  We made sure that we took our annual holidays during the mid year break so that we were available to our kids for a whole month.  We have great memories of times spent in a special place at Mkushi and on safaris in game parks.

An up side to the boarding school situation was the friendships we formed with the teachers and other parents.  There was a real sense that the children’s education was a co-operative effort.

I don’t want to write a book, but I could give many more examples to show that TCK-makers do not take on that role without a great deal of thought and a fair amount of pain.

Of course, there are up sides to being a ‘TCP’.  One is that you move into the international community.  We worked and networked with people from Canada, South Africa, Sweden, the UK, the US and Zimbabwe.  Our experience of the world was enlarged by rubbing shoulders with people from so many cultures.

Our move to another country opened the door to world travel and a valuable spin off from knowing people in so many countries is that they take care of our accommodation when we visit them!

Another up side is the great privilege of entering into the culture/s of people among whom you go to live.  There was a great day when we were introduced by one of my Bible School students when we visited his church.  He said, “We no longer regard them as Europeans. They are Lambas.”  We knew that we had been accepted into the Lamba tribe.  Some twenty years later I was the coordinator/secretary of the Lenje Bible Translation Project.  On the day that we launched the first Lenje New Testament, the Administrative Committee of the project arranged a naming ceremony in which I was given my Lenje name.  We had been accepted into another tribe.  Two years after this we handed the work over to the local church association and left the country.  The eldest son of a prominent family in the Lamba tribe, whom we had known for nearly 30 years, came to farewell us.  He said, “Missionaries have come and gone, but this is different.  You are family.”  What a privilege to be accepted like that.

TCK-makers become Third Culture People themselves.  Just as TCKs have difficulty in working out where they belong, so do Third Culture Parents.  Where do I belong?  My passport says that I am an Australian.  I enjoy the easy living in this wonderful country where we have been given so much.  When I hear the song, “I still call Australia home,” I resonate with the sentiments expressed.  Then I see a film based in Africa, or watch a documentary on something in that great continent, and immediately I feel homesick.  While I am at home in many ways in the culture of the country of my birth, which itself has changed a great deal during my lifetime, is there not a part of me that is Lamba and a part of me that is Lenje?  Why is it that while enjoying many things Australian, I hanker after a culture where relationships, especially family relationships, are more important than making money, possessing things and becoming a celebrity?

One thing that has happened is that I now have an affinity and an empathy with those who migrate to our country, those who spend significant amounts of time in our country in the course of their employment and those who serve here in their countries’ embassies.  I have a greater understanding of the transitions of life and I try to use this knowledge in helping the new ones settle in.

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Steph Yiu, in an article on raising second-generation TCKs says, ‘How would you want to raise your kids? Spare them the pain of moving, or give them the gift of travel? I’ve always wondered what it would be like, to raise TCK children of my own. Would I, as a TCK, be able to impart valuable knowledge, having grown up in a world without boundaries?’

To read more, click on the article link above.

Steph says curiosity about this issue led to her write this article. She found that there are all sorts of struggles involved in raising a second-generation TCK — but from the parents she talked to, it seemed that the benefits outweighed the consequences.

Thanks Steph!!

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‘I will not put my children through the cultural transition and confusion I experienced as a child. My children will grow up in their birth country with what I never possessed: a strong sense of cultural belonging.’

This was my inner monologue for years after giving birth to our first child. But that nudge to think global continues, and we’re suddenly considering expatriate work.

It’s scary. I know the possibilities, both positive and otherwise. It’s easier to behave like the proverbial head-hiding bird, pretending that it’s best to live in the West, earn lots of money and be global by donating some of said money to charitable causes. It’s right for some, but not all.

‘You know, you can’t protect your kids in Australia,’ said a friend.

She’s right. Among other things, we have here alarming rates of child abuse (the suspected rate being much higher than the reported one), the prevalence of drugs even in primary schools, the growing rates of teen promiscuity, suicide, depression… This western world is scary too.

Of course, being a TCK doesn’t save you from abuse, drugs, teen promiscuity, or depression. Being a TCK can carry extra complications, including loss and grief from frequent cultural transitions.

But in one sense my husband and I are on familiar ground. We probably have a better understanding of how to parent in an environment of high-mobility and cross-culture, than in the mono-culture we now live in. We know the rules (albeit changeable ones) in the world of TCKs.

What of the loss, grief and pain? We can’t shield our kids from that. It’s part of the package and baggage of TCKs. And recently, I have been processing loss and grief from my own childhood.

Some weeks ago I met a parent of TCKs. When he heard of our background he smiled, saying, ’The TCK experience makes one flexible and resilient.’

Funnily enough, thinking about my kids becoming TCKs has made me realise the richness of TCKs’ lives. My husband and I chattered in other languages as children. I was six when I first touched and breathed in fine sand blown from the Sahara. We went on safaris before we were ten, and both grew up with incomparable African harmonies and dancing. My husband has met ‘Mosi-oa-Tunya’, the smoke that thunders – Victoria Falls herself. We know intimately those exquisite moments in a plane at take-off and landing. Waiting for long hours in wildly-different airports can be an adventure. We have lived in climates that are hot, climates that are humid, climates that are dry, wet, cold. Some places we lived in or visited were affluent, others not so, some were cities, some towns, and others rural villages. We have seen some incredible sights, and made incredible friends. I can’t fit a complete list in this post!

We look forward to introducing our children to the riches of our own heritage.

Does anyone have advice to give TCKs who turn expats, creating little TCKs of their own? Please let me know, either by leaving a comment on this post or, if you prefer not to leave a public comment, you can email me using the private form on the Contact page.

Thanks all for reading!

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