According to a recent study, non-Western third culture kids were the most likely to struggle when moving countries. How does growing up as an outsider to the West affect their identity?
Having moved from one continent to another, Jinoos swapped Christmases under the blazing African sun for ones in the unrelenting European rain. Yet, having moved between international schools, the shift in culture wasn’t as jarring as one might expect.
Like most of her classmates, Jinoos was a third culture kid (TCK), someone whose identity is shaped by multiple cultures beyond their parents’ passports. But she was still an outlier, carrying a culture that was rarely represented and often misunderstood.
“The first assumption that I get from people is that it must have been really hard for me,” said the 23 year old. “I was the only African in my high school because it’s a European school, so everyone was European, so … I did experience a lot of lack of awareness of where I’m from and everything … I have a much better understanding of their worlds, and they have none of my world.”
Jinoos lived in Tanzania and South Africa before moving to the Netherlands, where she spoke English and French as well as Swahili. Being in a French-speaking expat environment is what made uprooting her life to Europe just another move, but that’s not how everyone else would see it.
It wasn’t her adjustment that was difficult; it was those around her, living at the centre of their world, unaware of anything beyond it. Yet at 16 years old, this inevitably would have a dent on how her identity is shaped.
“I never actually got any questions about where exactly I’m coming from or what it’s like where I’m from… It was me very clearly adjusting to their environment,” said Jinoos.
A recent study by TCK training suggests that those coming from non-Western backgrounds struggle more to adapt when moving compared to those from Western backgrounds. Yet the struggle is often not from a lack of trying.
“I just did as they did. You don’t really bring out the side of you not because I’m ashamed or anything which is because they wouldn’t understand their relate to her it’s very relevant to them I wouldn’t bring out other sized to myself I would just reflect you know whatever I’m getting from them if you know what I mean culturally and linguistically and just socially in general.”
Ruth Van Reken, co-author of Third Culture Kids: Growing Up Among Worlds, calls this the “chameleon effect”; the superpower of those raised across cultures to adapt wherever they are, usually at the expense of their true identity.
“I think a lot of people can lose themselves if you’re adapting all the time. I mean, what’s a chameleon’s true colour? It’s a very positive thing for chameleon to adapt in terms of safety, and you know, getting along, and hiding, and things like that,” said Van Reken, “But if you’re a chameleon, you can never really be true to what you’re feeling or what you’re saying ’cause you’re always trying to keep everybody happy.”
“You notice when you don’t have your own identity a little bit, but it’s like you are kind of a stray puppy.”
In her book, Van Reken explains that a TCK’s identity can take longer to develop. Exposure to multiple cultures makes it harder to establish a clear sense of self.
Similarly, for Ayah, blending in was a second nature that she developed from a young age. Yet with the advantage of becoming adaptable to everyone’s culture, her own identity was becoming more and more blurry.
“It is difficult because when you’re in also a country where people are very Dutch and really stick to their identity, you notice when you don’t have your own identity a little bit, but it’s like you are kind of a stray puppy or something and you’ve got no group that you really belong to. That can be quite difficult, especially with the Dutch, because they’re very Dutch and they stick together, and that kind of makes me unsettled sometimes,” said the 22 year old.
“No matter what culture you put me in, it’s always I’m not Egyptian enough. I’m not Canadian enough. I’m not really Luxembourgish. I’m definitely not Dutch, so everywhere I go I don’t fit in culturally, or I also don’t identify with any of these countries.”
Van Reken stresses that belonging is crucial to forming identity. Acceptance by others transforms a TCK from a “hidden migrant” into someone whose identity is recognised (see appendix).
Ayah was born in Canada before she briefly moved back to Egypt, where she was no longer one of them. But moving back to Canada and onto Luxembourg, she found acceptance. And where she found acceptance, her identity would follow.
“I grew up there and I saw how they treated me for not being fully Egyptian, so for me it was like yeah I’m hurt from you so I’m looking for a new place where I belong, and that’s was more Western, and from my brother, he was hurt the other way around, so he went to the more Egyptian side.”
It is often in those developmental years that one’s identity takes shape. For Third Culture Kids, moving at a young age disrupts the process of developing a clear identity rooted in a stable environment.
“Everybody in the world has to deal with the question of who am I, but if you’re in the same place and everyone around you is kind of the same, you can sort of grow to figure out life a little more calmly… When you keep switching, nobody knows you, so you don’t have that steady mirror and anchor back because it takes some time to know you, by then you might have moved again.”
Non-Western TCKs often face even greater challenges. A recent study showed that they struggle more than their Western peers, encountering stereotypes and biases before others know them.
“they let me know you’re not from here, you know, so is it really home? I don’t know.”
Christina’s story illustrates this vividly. She spoke Russian before learning her mother tongue, Arabic, after moving back to Syria, then fled the country to Luxembourg. Despite her multifaceted identity, she was reduced to stereotypes that did not remotely define her.
“I had a friend and high school that I’ve known for five years, and for every year in Ramadan she’d say Happy Ramadan, Christina, which is like my name is literally Christina, I am not Muslim, like as I said for the fifth year in a row,” said the 25 year old.
“I’m always very shocked about the amount of you know people who don’t know that Arab Christians exist… Like if you’re Christian and you’ve read the Bible once, you must know where Jesus comes from.”
Christina initially hid parts of herself to blend in, but soon realised her efforts were futile.
“When Western people come to let’s say the Middle East, like to Dubai or you know the Gulf for whatever reason, we call them expats, but when we move to the West, we’re immigrants,” said Christina. “I always felt like there will be a line that they draw where they let me know you’re not from here, you know, so is it really home? I don’t know, but it’s as close as it can get.”
Christina would listen to Justin Bieber songs, lower her voice to avoid the “barbaric” stereotype of how others see Arabs, and carry the pressure of outworking everyone in her school. For her, identity was a performance that others would judge her culture based on.
The pressure to navigate multiple cultures was also a constant for Mina, a Sudanese Brit.
“I think people from my culture think I’m a coconut, and I think people, like white people, Westerners, don’t think anything of it. They don’t think that sort of deeply about other people’s cultures … I’ve always thought it wouldn’t matter if I was six legged octopus, you know, the fact that I’m different is all that matters to be like they don’t care that I’m Arab,” said Mina.
Yet one culture expects you to blend, while another judges if you do.
“I ironically use the expression I’m a coconut … because like I said I am a blend of all of those cultures but … having any view that isn’t the stereotypical like way of thinking immediately means that your strange, like you’re too much, like you’ve been corrupted by westerners,” said the 29 year old.
“There’s a sense of I’m going to betray one of my places if I don’t perform identity from it enough.”
Dr Rachel Cason, a therapist specialised in dealing with TCKs, explains that for originally non-Western TCKs, their identity is often expected to be a direct result of how they look, instead of how they choose to identify.
“That’s particularly an issue with people for whom those two cultures are visible, especially if there are sort of mixed race relationships,” said Dr Cason. “Cultures can look more visible in people’s bodies, and then people are asked to account for them a lot more.”
She further explains that balancing multiple cultural expectations often brings guilt.
“I think for the TCKs that I’m working with, a lot of the balancing comes with a lot of guilt. There’s a sense of I’m going to betray one of my places if I don’t perform identity from it enough, and so a lot of my work is kind of looking at what is your actual relationship with these places?”
Using the metaphor of performing on a stage, she goes on to explain that identity and how we perform it is a choice, not to be explained, despite people’s misinterpretation.
For TCKs, it is often later in their journey as adults that they choose to accept themselves as a unique blend not to be reduced to one flavour.
Mina has become a lawyer due to a healthy amount of pressure from his parents to have a successful career. Yet that same career pushed him to perform in a white-centered environment. Eventually, he found a balance in not picking one side.
“I can’t explain why I am, or who I am, why I am the way I am today, because I can’t tell to what extent having grown up and experiencing these different cultures has shaped who I am, it just has. The idea of trying to exist today was like alienating a part of me would be like disingenuous to like my parents, my culture, and to myself, so I feel like I need to pay homage to it in some way.”
Christina would grow to stand up for both sides that she used to try to please. With that, she could shed any guilt that stopped her from showing the person she has become.
“I feel like I learned to really stand my ground in the west and be like this is my opinion this is what I believe … I went through a lot of things with my family to be able to get to a point where they listen you know more to me and respect the fact that I have different opinions but it’s beautiful once you learn how to take from both of these sides,” said Christina.
Ayah selectively adopted aspects of her cultures that added value to her life. “I don’t identify with the culture as a whole, like I’m not gonna, I would not fit in in Egypt, but there are still things that I took from my culture that I apply now,” she said.
“There’s a lot of beautiful things of being Middle Eastern… you really have people to support you, like I’m very grateful for that, but then also the nice things about the West is that you understand that at the end of the day. This is your life. And even if people think that they know better for you, you have to choose for yourself, and you cannot always put other people ahead of you.”
Middle Eastern or Western, Ayah accepted that both cultures were hers and she was free to pick and choose. Yet this decision was not easy, and for most TCKs it takes a lot of time. With opposing cultures, how can they find a middle ground?
Instead of dwelling on an identity crisis, Jinoos chose to accept herself as an ever-changing mosaic of cultures. After all, why choose one when you can have it all?
“I do certain things that are a bit European, but I’ve never felt European to my core,” said Jinoos. “There are moments where I feel a bit, maybe a bit more connected to my Persian heritage and sometimes where I feel a lot more connected to my African identity, but I’ve never dismissed any aspect of my identity.”