(Planet Earth from the ESA/Hubble, dress from Forever 21)
If you’ve been following my blog for a
while, you might be confused as to where I’m from. Or where I live. With a post
from France here, a post from England there, a post from the Czech Republic in
between, I don’t blame you. Whilst in LA last week, I stayed with friends we
met when I lived in Singapore (excuse me, I’m not making this any less
complicated) and they introduced me to a term I had never heard before but
recognised myself in immediately: Third Culture Kids.
A Third Culture Kid, or a TCK, is “a person
who has spent a significant part of his or her developmental years outside the
parents’ culture. The TCK frequently builds relationships to all of the
cultures, while not having full ownership in any.” (David Pollock, Third Culture Kids: Growing Up Among Worlds).
I don’t think I’ve had such a big “aha!”
moment in a while, if ever before. Being half-Czech, half-Vietnamese and having
spent my childhood between the Czech Republic, Singapore and the UK, suffice it
to say I often have trouble associating with only one, or indeed any of these
cultures fully. Equally, some (though by no means all) of my best friends are
TCKs, including a Czech raised in America and alternating between the two; an
Afghan Canadian who spent her childhood in the Czech Republic; Russians raised
in the Czech Republic, now living in England and Switzerland… the list goes on.
When people ask me where I’m from, my standard thought in response is I don’t have time to explain. When
people ask me where “home” is, I muster up little more than a blank, sometimes
confused, expression. I’ve recently taken to just saying the first city /
country that pops into my head, which doesn’t really help things either, but
people don’t react well when you say “oh, I’m just displaced”. Sometimes I
throw in the “you know, citizen of the world!” thing, which can’t help but make
one cringe.
But being able to associate with a group of
people who are defined by not being able to fully associate with – well, anyone
else is somewhat liberating. Not that I’ve ever found my mixed background a
disadvantage, much the opposite in fact, and yet the realisation that there is
no need to associate with any one
culture just feels good.
My mom (who is, ironically, Vietnamese)
always tells me off for burning bridges with my Czech roots. I was born in the
Czech Republic (and oh lord if you think it’s the same place as Chechnya then so
help me) and carry a Czech passport. I spent roughly 2/3 of my childhood there,
intermittently. And as much as I’m proud of my Czech roots, I don’t necessarily
feel Czech. I don’t always understand
the mentality of the Czech people and I have tended toward the international
community there. In fact (and if my grandparents are Google translating this
then I’m in trouble), I arguably associate with the Czech mentality less than
those of other cultures. Being half-Vietnamese I have often come across racial
discrimination and just a generally negative attitude toward foreigners – which
is especially tough as I’m pretty much a foreigner everywhere. And I am by no means attributing this to the
whole of the Czech population, but I am
speaking from experience. I love the Czech Republic for many reasons and I
don’t intend to burn bridges, but sometimes it’s just difficult to feel at home
there.
In Vietnam on the other hand, I have always
been welcomed with a sense of curiosity and openness, despite sticking out like
a sore thumb both physically and culturally. Much as I’d like to connect more
with my Vietnamese roots though, those western threads are sewn into me and I
know I can’t associate fully. What’s more, I’m happy with that. I’m grateful
for the opportunities my mom gave me through taking me around the world at a
young age. I like speaking a number of languages and being able to find some sense of belonging, if never a
profound one, almost anywhere I go.
