Being from Nowhere

Despite using it to describe myself, sometimes I wonder if I even like the label Third Culture Kid.

What are TCKs? They are people spend their childhood and adolescence relocating across continents due to their parents’ jobs…and according to popular media, are doomed to be nomadic, rootless, restless, foreign, confused…and apparently homeless for the rest of their lives.

I think the concept, and its “consequences” are grossly exaggerated.

“Where are you from?” is supposed to be particularly difficult  to answer for TCKs. For me, this was a headache during the first weeks of college. Everyone else gave one word descriptions of “home” – Indiana, Chicago, New York, and then there was me: a Chinese girl holding a Canadian passport, with a door sign saying  Singapore, and who uses certain New Zealand slang. Just how am I supposed to explain myself? A “good” answer to the question inevitably involved dishing out my life story, and I wasn’t sure if I was ready to do that to a roomful of strangers. Ask me this question now, and you will get a one word answer: Beijing. It is where I am from – I was born and raised there, my family is still there, and despite being overseas for half of my life, I am familiar with this city in the way that one is familiar with their home town.

Perhaps the TCK label is a self-imposed passport to identity-confusion. For people who grew up between worlds, national identity is as much a predetermined condition as it is a personal choice. I choose to identify with the country of my birth, regardless of what documents I hold or where I live now, and this choice is readily available to every TCK upon entering adulthood. If being in an international school has taught me anything, it is that instead of succumbing to confusion, you become more aware of your cultural identity. There is nothing like being around British, Norwegian, Israeli, and Japanese kids on a daily basis for you to realise you are Chinese.

I was watching a TCK documentary recently, and in it, a man who was raised in five countries was speaking candidly about  being from nowhere, not belonging anywhere. He now lives in Canada, but still feels dazed. His eyes flashed pain, and the narrator announced that this was the fate we were all subject to.

Well, I refuse to believe it. Globalisation is inevitable, and moving across the world has never been easier. I may never truly belong anywhere, but who said you have to “belong” to be happy? As the lucky few who shared wonderful memories growing up in international schools, we “TCKs” really should know better. 😉