written as a reflection for my Global & Multicultural Audiences and Stakeholders course
In my own words, a simplified definition of the word culture is a group of people who share context. This context is made up of language, rituals, shared stories, traditions, values, and life experiences. I can understand why there are several models used to classify cultures to compare them and why they often stay at a national level. Dimensions such as “power distance, individualism vs. collectivism, masculinity/femininity, uncertainty avoidance, long-/short-term orientation, and indulgence vs. restraint” are just some of the categories that the intricate shared context should be able to fall into to better describe them (De Mooij, 2019). But what happens when a culture is made up of people who seemingly cannot fit perfectly into one of those dimensions?
“A Third Culture Kid (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. Although elements from each culture may be assimilated into the TCK’s life experience, the sense of belonging is in relationship to others of similar background” (Pollock 2017). Before exploring the concept of TCKs, I struggled with the concept of culture, specifically how it worked into my identity, especially because I’ve often found that cultural identity was also (perhaps mistakenly) tied with the question “Where are you from?”
Whenever I’m in Poland, strangers are surprised to learn that I’m from Chicago. I can pass as a ‘native’ Pole because of my ability to speak fluently and my knowledge of history, literature and popular culture. I share that ‘specific context’ with people born and raised in Poland in many ways. However, my relatives and friends in Poland half-joke how I am the only legitimate amerykanka (American), as I am the sole member of the family to be born in the United States. I am not fully Polish in their eyes, and I’ve had this sort of defensive complex about it since then. The conversation does come up sometimes, and I often felt the need to prove myself to be more Polish when I’m in Poland vs. when I’m back in Chicago or elsewhere.
That being said, to my American friends and acquaintances, I am the Polish friend. I’m the friend who has a myriad of “foreign” goodies in my fridge and pantry, who has family in Europe, and who sneaks Polish rap into our shared playlists. While I am an American because of my birthplace, accent and environment, I often joked I have a bit of “horseradish spice” because of my strong connection to my Slavic heritage.
I couldn’t make all of the dimensions of one or the other align and I often felt like I had to choose one or the other to identify myself depending on my audience. It took being in a space removed from both of these spheres to help me recognize that while I identified with “symbols, rituals, heroes, and values” in both of cultures, I’d inadvertently created my own third culture in the process (De Mooij 2019, Pollock 2017). This overlap helped me find universality in an Irish pub in Rome, Italy, of all places.
Allow me to explain: yes, it was an Irish pub where English was spoken, but it was also where the expatriate community of Rome would come together, including some fellow TCKs. This global watering hole was more than a bar, it was a gathering place for people from all walks of life from the United Kingdom, Germany, Spain, the Netherlands, Iran, South Africa, and Turkey and exhibiting various levels of nomadic experiences. In the end, it didn’t matter where we came from. Like them, I wasn’t Roman or Italian, I didn’t feel particularly fully welcomed into the Polish culture my parents were from, and I wasn’t just American, where I grew up: I was accepted as a person with all of these dynamic identities and none of them felt the need to categorize me because of certain dimensions. I wasn’t just the Polish girl, just the amerykanka; I was Ola.
This Ola they knew happened to live in Rome, speak Italian without a heavy American accent because of her Polish lanaguage skills. This Ola had an idea of how to “act European” because of her experiences in familial Poland, but she was also “extroverted, excitable and friendly, like an American.” I didn’t have to be one or the other for this audience, and instead, we created a third-culture of expats in our chosen home in the Eternal City. I have a strong camaraderie with these individuals, and despite being shaped by our diverse life experiences, those differences pale in comparison to our bond of being mutual outsiders that couldn’t find their place in the world- together.
We do know that culture has a significant impact on communication with regards to how we develop, transmit and receive messages. While I think there is a strong argument in saying a global communication strategy can’t possibly exist because of all of the variables multiculturalism and diversity have, I do believe that TCKs can be key to understanding and potentially developing global communication plans, because of their paradoxical identities. Pollock reinforces this, saying “looking at the differences among them — of race, nationality, sponsoring organizations, and place where they….have grown up– you would think TCKs could have little in common… and yet they are a ….reunion of strangers” (Pollock 2017). As the world continues to shrink because of globalization, perhaps communication professionals can learn from TCKs and recreate the universality of finding home.
Works Cited
De Mooij. M. K. (2019). Global marketing and advertising: Understanding cultural paradoxes.
Pollock, D. C., & E., V. R. R. (2017). Third culture kids: the experience of growing up among worlds. Nicholas Brealey Publishing.
Ola Wysocki 