Being an Adult After Being a Third Culture Kid

Being a third culture kid affected  me in more ways than I ever knew. A third culture kid is a kid who does not live in their country of origin, is not immigrating to the country they are briefly living in and ergo, they create a third culture. In my day we didn't really have a term for that. We were neatly categorized by: oil brat, army brat, company brat, missionary kid and of course, me, a diplobrat. I'm not going to get into the technicalities of what each of those labels mean; there were tiers and groups and it's just too complicated to write about on a blog that thinks teeth bleaching is, like, awesome.

And so, in my humble opinion, here are some stereotypical characterizations of third culture kids, when they become adults: (I'm projecting, like, a lot)

We are always aware of our surroundings. Growing up with BBC for deployed people in Germany, there were always these random public service announcements telling you how to check for bombs under your car. Or, when I would visit American friends, they had the Armed Forces Network which showed you how to not dress like an American marine. Third culture kids can blend, man. And we can spot that something is off a mile away. If we tell you to run, you better mothereffing run. We also are very aware of people taking our pictures. If someone gets a shot of me and I didn't realize it, then I'm drunk.

We start stories obnoxiously like "One time, at Red Square..." or, "So I was dancing with this Saudi prince..." and we really aren't trying to be obnoxious. We're telling stories of our childhood that may or may not include bombings, kidnappings and political coups. Molly Ringwald, screw you with your perfect house and stable suburb living.

We make friends fast. I mean like really fast. "You like Mad Men too? Let's be best friends forever and ever.. Or, like, for the next 3 to 4 years, k?" When you move every 3-4 years as a kid, you got to make a good first impression. You got to make friends or you will not survive. For reals.

We ask a lot of questions when we meet you. We're pretty curious about other people and we know, from our childhood, that we have limited time to make best friends forever so we go right for the personal questions. Now, as an adult, if I meet someone who says "I'm just here for 6 months on a training course" I pretty much do a mental "NEXT!". I cannot do the goodbyes anymore. There have been too many.

As an adult, we have still have a hard time when saying goodbye, it never gets easier. Refer to above. TOO MANY GOODBYES!

We get really shocked when we meet someone who grew up in the same place they were born. And we get a little jealous.

We say weird things like "I finally know where the toilet is in the middle of the night!" or "I've lived in this apartment longer than any place EVER!"

We have weird accents when we get together. Usually I have a pretty neutral North American accent but when you get International School kids together, the accents switch. Suddenly we're all Arab/German/French/Japanese colonial accented people. It is a bizarre phenomenon, I tell you what.

Kraft dinner/Golden Grahams/Oreos; edible gold, my friends. You couldn't get that crap unless your friend had hookups with the American embassy. We offered our own kidneys for Jolly Ranchers.

I'm sure other third culture kids will agree or disagree with the above so I'm curious what you guys think. In my opinion, a third culture kid these days is playing a totally different game. There's Skype and Facebook and Twitter and so when you say goodbye, as you head off to your next posting, it's not like you will never "see" these friends again. We had to write letters, kids!! In CYRILLIC! In the winter!!! Sigh. I should look into therapy.


Comments

  1. Loved reading this. Unfortunately, can't commiserate because I grew up in the same state and still live here but for a brief break during my misspent youth. My two children grew up in the same house they were born in!

    ReplyDelete
  2. Thank you! I think that is awesome, though! Grass is always greener :)

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