Written by Amanda, TCK Care Coordinator for AIM | USA
An email from our Creative Developer pinged its way into my inbox about a month ago.
"Hey Amanda, we’d like to publish a piece about the concept of 'home' and how that can be a different experience for TCKs. Is that something you’d be able to write?"
My response was quick: "Sure, I’d be happy to do that!" The uncertainty of home can have a huge impact on third culture kids (TCKs), after all, and it’s important for AIM’s workers and their families to understand and be prepared for the questions and issues that stem from it.
Cue a full-blown case of writer’s block and a tiny existential crisis.
Home? How in the world am I supposed to write about that? I’m a TCK, I’m a former expat, and I just moved to a totally new region of the country (1). Very few of my family members and almost none of my friends live in the same state, much less the same zip code. I have no idea where home is. There’s no way I can write clearly or usefully about this topic.
And I guess that’s as good a place as any to start.
If you’re not a third culture kid, or aren’t familiar with this conversation, you may be lost already. Why should “home” be a tough topic for TCKs? The short answer is, because none of us have any idea where it is, or if we’ll ever get there again, and we are weary of pretending otherwise.
A third culture kid is someone who has spent a significant chunk of his or her childhood living between cultures, while not having full ownership in any of them (3).
According to Oxford Languages, home is “the place where one lives permanently.” I’m sorry, permanently? Well, that’s a ridiculous idea. Looks like Oxford won’t be of any help (2). Maybe more generously, I’ve heard people define home more figuratively: “Home is where my family is"; “It’s where I know how things work”; “It's where I know people and they know me”; “Home is where I hang my hat." All of these definitions are more useful for our purposes.
A third culture kid is someone who has spent a significant chunk of his or her childhood living between cultures, while not having full ownership in any of them (3). This means that for most of our conscious lives, there has been a cognitive split between “where I live” and “where I come from.” For example, when I was in college, people would ask where I was from, and I would sometimes say, “Honduras.” That’s where I spent high school, and where my parents still lived. But I wasn’t from there. Maybe I was from New Jersey, but I hadn’t lived there in years. Was I really allowed to claim either place? The trouble with this “both but also neither” tension is that whenever I return to any past “home,” I’ll probably be homesick for somewhere else.
This is why “So, where’s home?” and its cousin, “Where are you from?” can be such awkward questions for a TCK. If I don’t have full ownership of any culture, and I’m not from where I live, I will never belong in any one place. There’s always a lurking feeling of being an outsider, of not quite fitting in, like a square peg in a rectangular hole.
This perceived lack of belonging is the painful core of so many TCK struggles. Many folks take for granted the security that comes from knowing that somewhere in the world, there’s a place with people who are like you and who understand you. Even if you don’t live there now, you could always return, if you wanted to. TCKs very often don’t have that, and so they spend much of their time figuring out how to fit in, to earn belonging in whatever location or culture they find themselves. This lack of automaticity is both tiring and isolating.
So what do we do about this?
Obviously, we cannot change the transient cross-cultural nature of our TCKs’ lives. But if you’re a parent of a TCK, I believe there are some safeguards that you can put in place that will bolster your children’s sense of belonging.
- First and foremost, ensure that your child knows that he or she is a priority in your family–that no matter what they do and where home is, they will always belong with you (4).
- Seek out peers, schools, clubs, and other communities for your children, in order to foster a sense of group belonging. It’s great if these peers can also be TCKs. This will allow them to rest easy in having people who know them and who understand their life experiences. Many TCKs thrive at international schools for this reason.
- Help them to stay connected to their various “homes.” While it’s not possible to maintain deep roots in multiple places, it can be incredibly helpful for kids to keep some ties: setting up regular calls with friends and extended family, enjoying favorite meals or activities from “home,” and intentionally learning about their passport country, even while abroad, are all ways to keep them from feeling isolated and disconnected.
I want to close with a piece of encouragement–If you are raising kids overseas, you are not ruining them or dooming them to a life of struggle. You are setting them up for joys, adventures, and a global perspective which will serve them well for years to come. Even this potentially painful lack of belonging in any one culture means that TCKs make incredible bridge builders between cultures (5). My own international experiences have made me more adaptable, more globally aware, and more empathetic. And it’s my background as a TCK that led me to serve in my current role as TCK Care Coordinator for AIM US, where I have the privilege of encouraging and walking with AIM’s families as they navigate life overseas. Occasional existential crises notwithstanding, I’m grateful to be a TCK.
So all that to say, “home” might be complicated, but don’t be alarmed. The TCK life is a beautiful one. Love your TCKs, shepherd them with compassion and understanding, and they will be just fine, no matter where they choose to hang their hats (6).
About the Author
My name is Amanda, and I’m an adult TCK. I spent high school and parts of middle school as a missionary kid in Honduras before moving back to the US to attend college.
I’m in my 30s now, but I will always be a TCK.
Currently, I’m the Third Culture Kid Care Coordinator for Africa Inland Mission, USA. I know. Quite a mouthful. But the point is, my job is to ensure that the children and adults who grow up on the mission field with AIM are healthy, loved, and well-equipped to navigate life as TCKs, both on the mission field and back in the US.
Footnotes:
- I live in the South now. Which should probably be a country all its own, so maybe I’m still an expat.
- Or, “an institution for people needing professional care or supervision.” I kind of resonate with that one, honestly.
- There’s more to this definition, but “What is a TCK” is a totally different article, which various people have already written (here’s one).
- This might be as simple as investing individually and intentionally in each of your kids, asking their opinions, and including them in everyday family decisions. But it also means paying attention, taking kids and their struggles seriously, and making changes when necessary. Here is a challenging and perhaps painful article exploring what it might look like for a missionary to take extreme action to prioritize their children.
- Again, there are so many more gifts to being a TCK which I don’t have space to cover in this article. Fortunately, a lot has been written on all the ways being a TCK is awesome. If you’re interested, you can read very wise and winsome people talk about them here, here, and here.
- Everything in this article has been discussed and expounded on before, by brilliant and compassionate people. If you’re interested in diving deeper into the TCK’s experience of home, I highly recommend the following resources:
- "Growing Up in the In-Between" by Tanya Crossman (an article).
- Exploring Home and 6 Forms of Belonging, by Michele Phoenix (a podcast episode).
- "To My Adult TCK Self: I See You" by Rachel Hicks (an article).
- Home, James, by Emily Steele Jackson (a middle-grade novel)