I am a third culture kid--someone with a globally mobile upbringing, whose culture is not defined by their parents’ culture or that of their passport. Prior to coming to Lehigh, I had lived in China, Japan, New Jersey, and Singapore. My mom was an expatriate, so my family relocated all over the world. Being a third culture kid is undeniably a privilege. My multicultural upbringing has provided me unique experiences and perspectives. I am able to relate to people from a variety of backgrounds and speak multiple languages. But there are drawbacks too, as I constantly face identity crisis and culture shocks. Being a third culture kid in college has been scary and confusing, but also eye-opening and rewarding.
Being a third culture kid means having a hard time defining “home.”
My first two years of college were filled with struggle to answer a simple question-- “where are you from?” I offered answers that either were way too long for a small talk or did not exactly describe my identity.
Before that question got tossed around at every social event, I thought I had a solid definition of “home”--it was where I spent time with my family. College was the first time that I was away from my family for an extended period of time. As the distance between me and my family increased, the clarity of my identity faded.
Where AM I from, really? China? I was born there, but I haven’t kept up with things that went on in my hometown for almost a decade. Japan? I was too young to remember anything besides that it snowed a lot. Singapore? It was the last place I lived in before coming to college, but I went to an international school there, so I can’t really equate my experience to that of a native. The US? I have been living here for some years, but I don’t listen to the same music, laugh at the same jokes, or use the same slang words as my American friends. There is something about the American culture that keeps reminding me that I will always be a foreigner.
I felt guilty about being a third culture kid, as if I committed treason to the countries I had lived in just because I could not fully identify as their resident. Thankfully, the Lehigh community embraced my confusion and gave me plenty of time and resources to process my identity crisis. At Lehigh, I met many other third culture kids who were in the same boat. We attended diversity events together and shared late night talks about our cross-cultural journeys. Eventually, I came to terms with my third culture identity--I will never be fully native to any country, and that is okay, because I am a citizen of the world.
Being a third culture kid means feeling settled for the first time in college.
I grew up with goodbyes. There was never enough time to get to know the people or places at “home.” As I moved from country to country in the pre-internet era, names were slowly forgotten, and mental maps became all mixed up.
The lack of stability was my lifestyle, until I came to Lehigh and stayed for both my bachelor’s and master’s degrees. It was the first time in almost a decade that I spent more than five years in the same town. Through campus events, community service opportunities, and personal explorations, I got to know the Bethlehem community better than any of my “hometowns.” Before settling at Lehigh, I almost didn’t remember what it felt like to not worry about receiving relocation notices, bidding farewells, or packing my whole life in a couple of suitcases every once in a while. Lehigh gave me a sense of security and stability that I forgot I needed.
As my master’s graduation date draws near, I know my time at Lehigh is approaching its end. One day, just like China, Japan, New Jersey, and Singapore, the ivy-dressed campus on the South Mountain will become yet another item on my list of “homes but I don’t really know.” The Christmas City in the Lehigh Valley will be added to my already lengthy answer to the question “where are you from.” But for now, this is my home. I am from Lehigh University, Bethlehem, Pennsylvania, USA.