Milan, New York, Las Vegas, San Francisco, Dubai; Tommaso is truly an global citizen! At only eleven years old, Tommaso has had his fair share of good-byes. Listen as he explains what a Third Culture Kid is and how his TCK experience has affected him.
Talk credit to TEDx, given by Tommaso Tricamo.
Listen to more talks about TCKs!
“In Between” is a 23-minute documentary that explores the identity development of people who have grown up as third culture kids. Identity is our sense of who we are and guides our interests and our life choices. Moving between cultures affects the development of identity. Through the stories of three TCKs, the film investigates the often-overlooked effects on adults who had international upbringings.
By Elsa Hendriks
Watch more documentaries here!
“We need to feel that we belong…”
From the “music of the spheres” album by synaesthesiae
Kim was born in South Korea, has lived in Pakistan, China, Kenya and California, and now lives in Canada.
Read an article about her work here!
Somewhere closer to near but far,
I come from new names of old lands,
Oceans, islands, continents,
Snow and sand.
Between the blood spilled
for selfish reasons,
the crucifixion of sheep
as camouflage for our fears;
Home…
The place I come from …
Sometimes its people disappear
with the wind,
Its shape shifts from blinks to tears
And whenever it does so
it turns me into a foreign,
again.
That’s how I get lost;
how I get home;
simply to leave
again.
I come from seashells,
different smells,
Tastes, colors,
Fetishes in the spotlight,
the holy of brothels!
Where I come from…
I sleep naked,
covered by 3 blankets,
waking up sweaty.
I wear boots at the beach,
Slippers at parties
and I’m barefoot in the streets.
Never ugly, nor pretty,
the eccentric, the exotic
Neither usual, nor repugnant,
yet intriguing, deceiving.
The place I come from
is a loop, a pattern in space,
not very different from here,
quite similar actually!
It feels good to be back
for the first time;
Again.
By Caio Leão
“This is called the MK Patriot. I made it because many times I feel torn between supporting all the countries I love. I am an MK (missionary kid). I grew up in Panama and Paraguay, and my parents are from the USA and Canada.”
Painting by Joshua Case
Poem and illustration by Beth Restrick
by Ghanaperu
Do you know how many times
I have moved?
Sometimes I count them on my fingers,
fistful after fistful of tears
swollen in my throat and I try
to remember every single one
but I can’t.
Too many.
Too many times, it’s the only
number that fits the emotion
and I know
this won’t make sense to you but
my hands are full of this
place now and I can’t hold any more.
When I open my palms the memories
are dripping out and I’m
afraid if I stay longer I will
forget.
I don’t want to forget.
Do you know how many times
I have moved?
When I sleep I dream of
muted whispers in languages
you don’t speak and when I wake up
I write songs about the dusty grass
of places you’ve never been
and sometimes when you hold my hand
I imagine the worlds I have known
imprinted on my palm,
burning you in your ignorance.
How could anyone expect you to love
something as fragmented as me?
I tried, I really tried
to unclench my fists of memories,
to open up my hands and belong.
But every time I look at my palm
I see the lines of roads leading other
places and I can’t stop tracing them,
can’t stop aching to leave.
I can’t be part of a whole world;
everything is random moments
and I am disconnected from the
planned future.
I’m not here to stay. I’m never
here to stay.
You asked me tonight to go out
with you, tired grin through voice
texting and I wanted
to say no.
But instead I said yes and I drove
on these winding roads that never
lead to other places and I opened
my hands to you. I stayed
another day, I spilled a few more
memories and let you matter a
little bit more – I loved.
Do you know how many times
I have moved?
Too many, it’s the only answer
that fits and when I tell you
I love you I want you to think
of that. I don’t know how to be
a part of just one world, how to
hold your hand and love and
be loved without being
burned by the smallness of the story.
Staying here is like being
trapped, and I value freedom.
But even more than freedom,
I value you.
This is a TCK’s love poem, telling
you how badly I want to leave in hopes
that you will understand how
deeply you matter…
It’s okay if you don’t understand.
There is a vast difference
between us, a Sahara Desert of
sandy separation but I’m trying
(please tell me you can see
that I’m trying)
not to keep my distance.
It’s my desert. And every day I stay
the liquid memories leak out
of my hands into the sand and I think,
I think,
new life is growing here.
New life, small and green
and fragile, hopeful and timid.
So I will grow a trail of oasis
across this desert, copy for you
the map of roads on my palms
and let you destroy this distance
I have always kept.
But I’m not making promises.
One day I will add another
number to “too many” and I
will shut my fists tight around
these memories and I will leave.
But today is not one day,
and for now I am busy growing
life in a desert
with you.
Just don’t
keep your distance,
and I won’t keep mine.
Other spoken word poetry by Ghanaperu:
Hello, Hello
If I Could Change I Would
With the wings of an Eagle I cry
Screaming the freedom of wind and sky
Untethered from all land and place
I’m Queen of the unclaimed space
With Chameleon scales, I master disguise
Waiting for my cue with roaming eyes
Blending to each new culture displayed
As my skin knows no original shade
With a turtle’s dark shell I hide
Holding my emotion protected inside
Come too close and I will retract
To keep my softer sides intact
With a camel’s back and wandering feet
I’m built to travel through the heat
My restless nature drives me on
Till all I’ve been or known is gone
With so many parts and pieces
The more you see the confusion increases
Nothing is simply mine but my name
No creature’s form can I fully claim
by Danae Tanner
