I grew up in mid-west, USA. Moved to mainland China after college hoping to change the world. But, instead, my world changed. I entered TCK-land. I married a German TCK and had three little TCKs of our own.
I describe the five of us as the "Fusion Family". We are fused together by cultures and disabilities. All three were born in mainland China. One has a genetic disorder called Cri-du-Chat. And one is adopted. The other is just a typical oldest child.
I'm still that mid-west girl who loves a good steak, but with a splash of Asian flair caught eating curry in her tuna salad sandwich.
In this book, Lauren Wells has taken her two previous books, The Grief Tower and Unstacking Your Grief Tower, and created a more in-depth version with guided questions and exercises. Her other two books were focused on TCKs specifically, but this book could be used by most people trying to understand the hardships of their past and how those hardships are affecting them now. I write “most” as a book should never replace therapy or counseling when it is needed – especially trauma-informed therapy. Lauren shares her own personal story throughout the book to highlight how to use The Grief Tower Model. She divided the book by giving a good portion to understanding the parts of The Grief Tower Model while offering exercises for a person to work through. The last couple of chapters are instructions on how to use it with other clients, with one chapter focused on working with children.
Recommendations:
I highly recommend this book to counselors who are working with people dealing with grief. It is a simple way for the clients to read a chapter and work through questions to process with someone else. I did do the exercises in the book and reflected on my own blocks. I was surprised how many blocks I had and the themes that seemed to come from the blocks. While Lauren did write it for individuals to use on their own, I would recommend talking with a trusted person who can help you process some of your findings. Friends are great, but in my personal opinion having a counselor bound by confidentiality laws is better for certain situations. And if you do find that some of your blocks are marked with trauma, then it is important to find a trauma-informed counselor to help you walk through it.
*Please note that I earn from qualifying purchases as an Amazon Associate. Please see disclaimer at the bottom of the page.
Today’s story involves my TCK husband, my daughter with special needs, and stress. And, of course, myself with lessons learned.
Setting
You may know that my husband is German but grew up on the island of Taiwan. He has only lived in Germany for a total of six years. This story occurred in his passport country, where the temperature dropped tremendously. We had packed for cooler temperatures, not for winter. We stayed in a village nestled in the middle of steep forested hills and valleys. It was beautiful and quiet but far from civilization.
Conflict
In any story, there is some sort of conflict. It can be person vs. person, person vs. self, or person vs. nature. This one may seem to be a person vs. person conflict, but it is, in fact, a conflict involving all three — one you may call the perfect conflict storm.
Person vs. Nature: Most of my work these days revolves around the computer and being online. The same is true for my husband. This beautiful location had very limited wifi. In fact, we could not all be on it simultaneously. We needed to take turns or go to a coffee shop inside Globus. I was waking up at 4am due to jet lag, so I would work until 7am while most of the village was sleeping. Most days it was slow but doable within those three hours. The weather had turned from sunny, gorgeous blue skies to cold, gray, rainy days. It just added to the tension of this particular morning.
Person vs. Self: The pressure I put on myself is sometimes ridiculous. I struggle with being a perfectionist. At this point, I had writing and editing deadlines due and quite a bit of reading to do. As a mom to an adult with special needs, I wanted to make sure that I had stimulating activities for her to do, which I failed for the most part. Then, there is the pressure I put on myself to be the idolized Proverbs 31 woman. I’m old enough and have studied that passage enough to know the real meaning, but I slip back into that belief system when I’m in my perfectionist mode.
Person vs. Person: My husband is great. He is patient with me and understanding most of the time. But there are times in our lives when we are both under pressure, stressed, and fighting inner battles that we tend to clash with each other. This was one of those mornings. And then there is my daughter with special needs. She is nonverbal, but communicates very well what she wants most of the time. She has her ideas of what she wants and we have our ideas of what she can have. And sometimes those are not the same. Thus, a conflict of wills.
On this early morning, I woke up with no coffee powder. We were out. I didn’t want to risk waking his parents at such an early hour, so I made tea. The internet was at an all-time speed of zilch. Okay, I can go to the coffee shop when Uwe wakes up and still make the deadline. No problem. I read books for my research and did what I could that didn’t require wifi.
Uwe woke and went down to get coffee powder. We had a quiet breakfast together with coffee. My day was getting better. Matthea woke, and I began to help her get ready for the day. Uwe made her breakfast.
All seemed to be going as I had planned.
As I passed the kitchen to grab Matthea’s clothes in the other room, I noticed Uwe packing his computer into his bag.
Umm, are you planning to go to the coffee shop?
I talked to Dad this morning, and he needs to go to the store, so I’m going to ride with him. I will work at the coffee shop and then bring back lunch for us.How does that sound?
A perfect wife would have said, “That sounds wonderful.” But more likely could have said, “Wait, you are going to the coffee shop? Is there any way I could go instead? Or maybe we all go?”
But that is not what came out of my mouth.
I didn’t say anything. I shut the bathroom door and mumbled complaints as I handed Matthea her shirt and pants. So began the inner battles.
What is wrong? He calls from the other side of the door.
Nothing is wrong.
What, are you mad that I’m going to the coffee shop? What were you planning to do?
I pretend to not hear him. I can hear him mumbling in the kitchen as he begins to do the dishes.
I follow Matthea into the kitchen. Her breakfast is on the table. Uwe is at the sink finishing up the last dish. Matthea turned abruptly around and communicated that she wanted her iPad. The rule is that after breakfast, she can listen to an episode while she builds blocks or colors. She had her own expectations of what the day would look like. And a battle of wills began. Another layer of conflict.
The storm was at full brew now.
Climax
With Matthea finally in her chair and eating breakfast, I thought I could grasp what was going on.
What time are you leaving? I asked.
In like twenty minutes.
The struggle in my brain was real. I was pressured to get some writing projects submitted that day, and I had no internet access. I wanted to be warm. I wanted Matthea to be normal and be able to do what typical twenty-one-year-olds do. I wanted Uwe to know what I wanted and needed. This all swirled in my mind, which only frustrated me even more. I could feel my brain flooding.
Flooding is when your emotions are at an all-time high, and you are not able to process what you are feeling. It affects your thoughts and the way you function. And the only way to stop the flooding is to create space to think it out.
I grabbed my tennis shoes.
I’m going for a walk and I promise to be back before you need to leave.
He nodded in understanding. I opened the door to cold, fresh air and started speed walking up the hill. I walked until my lungs stung, which didn’t take long. Within ten minutes, I had my frustrations out and was ready to talk.
Conclusion
I returned in a calm spirit. I told him what I was expecting that morning. He grinned.
What if we all go? Can you be ready in ten minutes?
I love that man. That is precisely what we did. We all went to the coffee shop and got our work done on time. And Matthea enjoyed looking at a new magazine while we worked.
One of the things I have learned in my studies in care and counseling that has really helped me is the idea of flooding. In my own life, I can now recognize when I am heading in that direction or in a state of flooding. I now know that I need space to process what I’m feeling, why I’m feeling those feelings, and even to process what I feel about those feelings. From there, I can make a decision about what I am going to do with all those emotions.
Maybe you can relate to this state of flooding. When your brain is flooding, you need to step away from the conflict and do something different. This will stop the hormones that are literally flooding your brain, telling you that you are in danger.
Or maybe you can relate to my husband. Maybe you have a significant other or child who experiences flooding. In this case, let them have the space away to get control over their emotions. Let them color, do sudoku, take a walk, or something for ten to twenty minutes. Then, talk to them about the conflict. That space will also be good for you as well.
To know more about this, please check out my article, “Transition Issues: Window of Tolerance,” at Global Crossroads Consulting. It explains how some people flood and shutdown and how others get revved up and may explode.
*Please note that I earn from qualifying purchases as an Amazon Associate. Please see the disclaimer at the bottom of the page.
Summary:
Joy Smalley writes a memoir as a missionary kid growing up in Mongolia. Though born in the US, at the age of ten her parents moved her and her siblings to Mongolia. Life was hard and and neglect for ministry was normal. She grew up believing that everyone experienced what she did as a child. As she matured and had children of her own, the chinks of this belief began to break. Her body began to show signs from years of “holding it together.” Her belief was challenged: Was God who He said He was? All this led to believing that life was not worth living. She sought help from a licensed therapist who helped her navigate her childhood story and gave her a name for it: trauma. Within each chapter, Joy bounces from her childhood story to the couch in the therapist’s office gripping the pillow with fringe. By writing in such a way, Joy allows the reader to see a glimpse of her story while allowing an explanation of what was going on emotionally. It is through this storytelling/explanation that we realize that her childhood coping strategies were no longer working. Through storytelling, she is able to show how triggers can set someone off with PTSD or even Complex PTSD, but also the road in which they can take to healing emotionally and spiritually.
Recommendation:
This was a challenging read and could trigger anyone who experienced neglect or childhood trauma in missions. With that said, it is a well-written book. Joy has a gift of words and storytelling that will keep you wanting to turn the pages. As a short-term counselor, I appreciated her framework for writing this memoir. It was a good balance of story and therapy. It is not a “self-help” book but a memoir of her healing journey. I recommend it to any parent of TCKs, educators of TCKs, and counselors/therapists/spiritual directors who work with TCKs. Each person’s story is unique, but reading Joy’s story could give you an idea of what other TCK/MKs may be battling. Or at the least give the challenge to sit and listen to their stories which could help them unravel their own knotted beliefs and emotions.
*Please note that I earn from qualifying purchases as an Amazon Associate. Please see the disclaimer at the bottom of the page.
Summary
Sam, a fifth-grade boy, is a missionary kid (MK) in the jungles of Congo. His best friend and roommate at the dorm has left, and he is stuck with a new roommate who is awful. Jordan does not seem to like Sam and is a terrible roommate, but everyone else likes him. Sam can’t figure it out. Through some pretty wild, unforgettable adventures, Sam has to make a decision whether he and Jordan can work out their differences or if maybe Sam has misunderstood Jordan all along.
Recommendation
Anna Danforth brings true stories of her husband’s childhood to life in this middle-grade novel. It is for ages 8-12 year-olds. Books are needed for the TCK/MK population, and this book is a good start. It has a strong beginning that will have you turning the pages to find out what is next, but I found that the main plot fizzled towards the middle. The friendship plot did not have enough twists and turns to help keep the story moving forward. It was solved in them in the middle of the story, which left the plot with not a real climax or resolution. But with that said, Sam is very relatable and the adventures he and his friends have are very memorable. I do think young MKs will enjoy reading about a fellow missionary kid who understands some of the challenges of living overseas and living in a dorm.
In 2014, I published a post on learning to be content with simple birthday parties because our middle child with special needs turned eleven, and I could not think of a single friend to invite to her party. You can read the rest of the article here. Recently, Matthea turned twenty-one while traveling from one country to another. Again we were in a situation where friends were scarce, but family was not. But, while in the midst of this, I was also reminded to enjoy and celebrate the simple things.
We celebrated her birthday four times. One with friends who are like family and three with family. Each had a different theme. But they all had cake, presents, and singing. If you have ever celebrated a birthday party with Matthea, you know that clapping will accompany the singing. Loud clapping.
This girl loves to celebrate.
At the small church we attend, when we visit family, they invite those with birthdays or anniversaries to come to the front while everyone sings. Every single Sunday, she raised her hand and giggled though it was not her birthday. But, when others went forward she began her sharp clap to her own beat of the song “Happy Birthday.” On the day it was her birthday, she jumped down the aisle with the clapping.
But she doesn’t need a birthday to celebrate.
Last week, we took a longer walk than we intended. We ended up climbing a steep path that wound its way up to the point where we could look out over the valleys on either side of the hill. It was difficult for her. She wanted to stop several times, but she made it to the top with some encouraging chant of her name.
The view was stunning, but to see her smile and give us fist bumps when we told her we were proud of her was priceless. She wanted a Kinder chocolate bar to celebrate.
As usual, I think we can learn from her – to celebrate birthdays with clapping, conquer hills with fist bumps and chocolate, and enjoy life’s simplest things.
Raising TCKs in lands that are not familiar to us has its challenges. If you have moved to a new location and just rounded the corner of living there for a month, I challenge you to celebrate that achievement.
If you’ve lived there a year and you notice your kids are now eating foods they would not try when you first got there or can order food at a restaurant. Celebrate!
If you are now able to read the road signs or understand the announcements on the public transportation, celebrate!
Celebrations do not need to be extravagant planned-out theme parties – though if you LOVE to do that, go for it. They can be a simple high-five with your kids, a special meal with the family, or even a simple piece of chocolate.
Leaving your TCKs behind to return to life in your host country is NOT easy. This time, we left two, and it was not any easier. When two of the four most precious beings are no longer close by, the desire to buy a house and settle in a place you’ve never been to grows pretty strong.
That morning, I woke to a heavy chest and a lump in my throat. I quietly made coffee and let the tears roll down onto my journal. By the time everyone woke, my eyes were red but dry. We kept busy packing and loading the car.
The first drop-off was the oldest to his new apartment. We met one of his roommates – a fellow TCK. What a gift.
Lunch. I looked at the menu, but nothing sounded good. Who wants to eat when they are full from a plate stacked with grief? We moved the food around our plates, taking bites here and there. My husband tried to lighten the mood with “dad jokes” and asking questions about what the kids have planned for the week.
Everything felt flat. It was that in-between time when it was almost time to drive away. The goodbyes are hidden. Stuffed and buried. The heart aches as time pushes those goodbyes to the surface. I really do not like this space of time.
But it is always better to go through grief. And this is the first step towards letting go.
In the parking lot of his apartment, the tears flow. I know it’s good, but man is it hard. “See you in a year” feels like a lifetime.
And then, we drove our youngest to her new place of residence.
She gets a phone call. She’s been called for an interview for a job. Finally.
Then, we see a large bird on the road. It’s a vulture.
A vulture in the middle of a large city?
We passed slowly to see not one but probably ten to fifteen vultures in a yard. And we smelled that pungent smell of decay.
A car horn blared.
We realized we were mesmerized by this sight and had basically stopped in the road. We moved forward and began laughing.
A few minutes later, we were in the driveway. Quiet. None of us wanted to make the first move.
But the clock kept moving forward, and we had a very long drive ahead of us. We got out of the car.
By this time, our middle daughter with special needs had caught up with what was happening. She began to tear up. Grief wrapped its arms around her tiny frame, and without reserve, she sobbed. The chest heaving kind with wails.
But she demonstrated what we felt.
As we entered the freeway, the distance between us and the kids got farther, and my chest heaved. The dam broke. The tears flowed. My husband reached over and held my hand. My middle child rubbed my shoulder.
This goodbye felt like a death. While it is a “death” of their childhood as they are becoming adults, it also feels like it will be forever before we see them again.
And in the moment of my grief, I was thankful that I was not part of a family of vultures.
If you are a parent who has said goodbye to your college kids this year. Check out this resource that I created for those who stay. DOCK: a resource for the Stayers
*Please note that I earn from qualifying purchases as an Amazon Associate. Please see the disclaimer at the bottom of the page.
Summary:
This short (102 pages) book explains what school refusal is and explains the background on why kids struggle with going to school. Fowle and Ham team up to write a book that not only gives the why but explains how some parents are unaware of how their reactions encourage children to not attend school. Fowle is the parent who struggled with this issue and her passion to help other parents from what she has learned is evident in this book. Ham’s experience and knowledge makes this a resource parents can begin using right away. They offer practical tips to use at home and how to work with the school to help children learn the skill of willingness. Each chapter has questions that help the reader plan and continue to move forward towards the goal. This book is for parents or caregivers of children that are 9+ years old.
Recommendation:
If you are struggling with school refusal in your home, then I do think this book would be helpful. It focuses on the importance of the relationship between the parent and child. I have read educational articles on school absenteeism, but this is the first publication I have read coming from the parent’s point of view. The articles I read were all based in the US, but I am sure there are expat parents who may also struggle with this issue and may feel alone and possibly hopeless. This book is practical and easy to read. The exercises and suggestions can be used right away. Though they do warn that this is a process of change and not a problem that can be fixed overnight. Fowle is an educator and dyslexia specialist who tutors expat children around the globe. Ham is a behavior specialist and international parent coach.
*Please note that I earn from qualifying purchases as an Amazon Associate. Please see the disclaimer at the bottom of the page.
Summary
Ulrika is a Swedish missionary kid (MK) who grew up in what was known as Congo. She also raised her five children in Thailand where she worked as a therapist at The Well International. She is a social worker and a licensed psychotherapist. This book is a compilation of the many hours working with globally mobile families. It is divided into eleven sections with fifty-seven short chapters. Each chapter is filled with information, but the best is that at the end she offers interactive activities that can be done with the family or in groups. She also offers ideas for parents, sending organizations, but also ideas for the TCK as well. While the focus is mainly on MKs, she believes that the activities are also beneficial to TCKs. There are a few chapters that touch on the specific issues that MKs face regarding religion and the expectations of parents and sending organizations.
Recommendation?
Let me tell you if you couldn’t tell by the photo. This is probably the number one book I would recommend for parents or sending organizations to have on hand. The resources and activities are simple to execute and offer a great way to start conversations with TCKs and ATCKs. I liked that the chapters were short and to the point. She gave some examples but did not overuse them. Her interactive activities are good and easy to do. As someone who works with TCKs and their families, I’m very thankful for this resource.
I wrote this article four years ago for Multicultural Kid Blogs. I have updated it. This newer post fits into the transition model, DOCK, that I created for the Stayers. This can be used by globally mobile families for their TCKs.
Transition is part of life. People move. Children come into the family. Special people and pets die. For those living overseas, this rhythm of transition brings an odd normalcy, which one could easily sway or tap their foot to. Just listen –
In and out, come and go. Up and down, arrive depart. Turn around and Start again.
But, after a few years of this dance, kids’ emotions may stop swaying and tapping. Instead of dancing, you may find them on the dance floor just going through the motions. Or maybe they are standing against the wall, avoiding the dance, waiting for the song to finally end. They know new people will come and join the dance. But the question that lingers is: “But for how long?”
They know new people will come and join the dance. But the question that lingers is: “But for how long?”
How do we help our kids not build a wall around their emotions?
This is a complex question that has no simple solution. Here are a few ideas that can help. It won’t take the pain of saying goodbye away, but it will help your child know that they are not alone in this transition.
Observe your own heart. Where are you? Are you on the dance floor going through the emotions, or are you engaged with the people around you? Or are you standing against the wall, hiding from all the new people jumping and twirling around?* Just like the oxygen masks in the airplane – first put your own mask on before assisting your child – first process and grieve this transition so that you can help and assist your child. Or at least take time to process on your own, so that while she is in the middle of it you can be there to support and comfort.
Talk about it. One of the best ways to release and process grief is to talk to someone about it. Find a friend or safe person to talk to. Then you can be ready to ask good open-ended questions and listen to your child. Ulrika Ernvik says in her book Third Culture Kids: A Gift to Care For, to offer your child a “bubble”. This means to make a comment like, “I’m sure having to say good-bye to your friend must be really hard.” Then wait and see how your child responds. Ulrika does say that you may need to wait a few days as the child may need time to process your statement.
Be there. This is a follow-up to #2. When they begin to talk about it, stop and listen. You do not need to say anything. We don’t need to “fix” the problem. We just need to validate that the emotions the child is feeling are okay. Affirm that they are normal. Ideas are rubbing your child’s head, holding them while they cry, or sitting and crying with them.
Make a memory. This could be as simple as planning one last fun outing with your child and their friend who is leaving. Or it could be helping your child make a card or photo book to give to their friend. Take photos. Be the parent that is annoying. They will thank you later when they can scroll back over all the photos.
Help them stay connected. What are ways that are appropriate for them to keep in touch with each other after the friend leaves? Help them understand that their relationship will change and shift but that they will always be friends. Understand that as this friendship does shift and change your child will also experience another wave of grief. Go back to #2 and #3.
*Please know that sometimes standing along the wall is okay. In fact, it is healthy. Our grieving hearts need a break to heal. Sometimes, two months is not long enough. Sometimes, it takes longer. So, stand at the wall and watch. Have some coffee or tea. Grab a scone to go with it. Grab a chair and sit next to another Stayer who is sitting out this round of dancing. The key is to remember that you are just taking a break. It’s temporary. Eventually, you will need to get back on the dance floor. Remember this for yourself, but also for your kids.
If you need more resources for transition, check out my business, Global Crossroads Consulting. I offer individual consultations, family transition talks, school transition talks, and debriefs.
This article was first published on July 31, 2020, titled Transition Roller Coaster. I have reworked and updated it below.
Transitions. It is a rocky time for globally mobile families. You are up and then down. Tossed and turned. Some people like the thrill of rollercoasters. Some people do not.
Transitioning with all the unknowns, chaos, and goodbyes feels like a never-ending rollercoaster ride. And just as people have very different opinions about rollercoasters, each person in a globally mobile family will have different reactions during this time of transition.
So, what can you, as the parent or caregiver, do?
Be aware. Be aware of your own feelings and responses to those feelings. Observe how your body is responding to all the emotions you may be having. Is there tension in your shoulders? Headaches? Also, be aware that others may be acting out of response to anxiety, deep sadness, or even fear.
Choose Grace. Grace is a Christian word that basically means gift. Offer the gift of understanding when a young child throws a tantrum at the table. Give grace to your spouse when you find them “hiding” in a book, TV series, or a game. Giving grace sometimes means forgiving before it’s been asked for. Don’t forget to give yourself grace. It’s easy to be hard on yourself, but you need grace, too.
Communicate. When you are aware of your own actions and responses you can communicate with your family how you are feeling. You can ask for forgiveness when you’ve spoken in anger because of stress. You can ask how they are doing with this upcoming change. Use open-ended questions that do not allow for responses like “Okay,” “Fine,” or “It was good.” Ask “What are you going to miss the most?” or “How do you want to stay in touch with ______?” Remember though, that HOW you communicate is key – go back to #2 for guidance.
It’s easy to just close your eyes during a rollercoaster ride and not have the full experience. It’s also easy to just try to skip all of the parts of the transition to avoid the painful and hard moments, but it’s important to go through them. It’s important to process it all. Your mind and heart both need it.
So, I challenge you to hold on to that safety harness and force your eyes to stay open through all the dips, dives, and loops this transition rollercoaster brings.
raisingTCKs 