Imagine you walk out of an airport and someone comes up to you and begins speaking in their native language. You are mistaken for a local but you aren’t and you don’t understand a word they are saying. You glance around for help but the person is getting frustrated with you and you don’t know why. They walk away angry and you stand there confused.
Hunger sets in and you wander into a bakery, drawn by the tantalizing smell of fresh bread. You look around. There is a cash register, there are trays, the bread seems to be accesible with tongs, but when you reach for one someone behind the counter starts yelling at you. You put it back and go to the cash register. The people behind the counter are whispering and you manage to butcher your way through an order. They have to count out the money for you as you hold your hand open with coins. As you leave with your warm bread you can hear them all laughing at you.
These experiences continue with different reactions and by the time you are headed to bed you are exhausted and so confused. You brush your teeth and as rise from bending and spitting you see yourself in the mirror. You look like a local. Your parents share a heritage with this country. You even know some words and songs from when you were a kid. But the experience of the days blunders confirms that you are not from here.
This is an amplified version of the life of a TCK when they return to their passport country. I am six years into living in my passport country, three years into working at the same organization. I am burnt out. I am culturally exhausted.
It can feel like no matter how many times I explain that I am not from here at the end of the day I am held accountable for all of the ways I am different as wrongs. I am a hidden immigrant.
The term hidden immigrant is used for TCKs who return to their passport countries. They look and even sound like the people around them, but inside of them is something very different. The struggle that differentiates this kind of difference from that of being in another country is the assumption of sameness. When someone is clearly a foreigner there is an extension of awareness that said person would not know the customs or the culture. This often comes with, if not grace, at least an offering of explanation. When one is assumed to be the same there can be a severe lack of both.
Most TCKs experience this the harshest when they return to their passport countries for university. The world they grew up in seemed “normal” because everyone around them was also in that world, but placed in a space where everyone else seems to know a different world can be a shocking revelation and often feels like being plunged into cold, deep water and having everyone around you ask you why you aren’t swimming, after all, you have legs to kick and arms to paddle. And you may learn how to tread water or doggy paddle, but you will not win any races and your butterfly stroke will probably always lead to a mouthful of water. Without having learned to float you will get exhausted.
In these kinds of circumstances there are two great helpers. The first is the more seasoned TCK, who has learned how to float or knows where to find a life jacket. The second is the curious person who not only asks why you can’t swim but takes time to teach you how to float and asks what you used your feet and arms for before. They are the person who explains the swimming terms for you, just in case, because they know you didn’t grow up with them.
My non-TCK people, love your TCKs by researching, asking questions, listening, and using your imagination to try and understand. Teach us how to float. Remember we aren’t great swimmers even though we have arms and legs.
My TCK people, I see you flailing your arms. I too have swallowed a lot of water and my body is tired. Make time to take a deep breath and lay on your back and rest. Look up at the sun, hold on to the edge. Share my floatation device. Our legs can run and jump, and even sort of swim. And because we know what drowning looks like from experience, we can spot others who are drowning too and help them. It’s okay to stay in the pool. It’s okay to get out of the pool sometimes too. It makes sense that you are tired of swimming. I am too. Let’s float together and talk about running on grass before we start to kick again.
