I am…What it is to be me, an alternative to ‘you know you are a whatever, when you’

Posted: 22nd September 2010 by admin in Uncategorized
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…constantly confused by the changes in seasons, I cannot get used to the sun rising and setting at different times.

…shop in small shops with limited choice, preferably with someone who speaks Hindi behind the till. Not that I really speak Hindi, but I find it reassuring.

…love the smell and life in markets

…am tolerant of lengthy journeys involving delays and changes

…do not understand why people clap the pilot when he lands. He’s just doing the job he was trained to do. If he didn’t land, I would be concerned.

…the majority of my friends aren’t white. This doesn’t strike me as odd until we go out and people stare at us.

… feel like a chocolate snowball – white on the outside and brown on the inside.

…can determine where I am by the smell of the garbage.

…secretly addicted to wai wais. My husband doesn’t understand.

…change my accent according to who I’m speaking to. My husband says this is very rude.

…still don’t have a satisfactory answer to ‘where are you from?’ My current answer is ‘at the moment, I live here’ (to which the response is ‘but you’re not from here are you?’ I’m never sure how to answer that.)

…do not understand connection to place, but really understand connection to people.

…have a whole different use for facebook than most people.

…still dream in different languages

…terrified of spiders. For good reason!

…find it easier to empathise with the international news stories than understand poverty in the UK. And I work for a charity that works to eradicate poverty in the UK!

…wonder which of my friends of family might be affected by the latest disaster in the news. And then have to get on facebook to make sure they’re ok!

…always go on holiday abroad somewhere. Preferably hot. I get itchy feet otherwise. It’s not so easy to run away when you’re married and have a mortgage!

PS. I’m 30 and have lived in Manchester, UK for 12 years – all my adult life. I came here for uni, and have never left. Perhaps that tells you more about me and being a TCK than anything else. In my childhood I lived in more houses than I remember in 5 countries.

You are what you eat: Third Culture Kid Diets

Posted: 19th September 2010 by admin in Uncategorized
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Originally taken from http://heyitsjohnnyc.wordpress.com/2010/09/19/you-are-what-you-eat-third-culture-kid-diets/

You are what you eat, and this must mean I’m pretty sweet!

When I was young, one of my dreams was to travel the world. It’s still a dream, but it’s also something that is a constant part of my life and being, since I’ve done some traveling already. For this youthful wish, I wanted to eat all the best food the world had to offer, whether it was Chinese fried rice, Moroccan lamb shank, Japanese sushi, Indian curry, Mexican burritos with tripas, French escargot, or Cajun gumbo stew, my list of foods was as epic as my appetite, and has only grown since then.

Since I immigrated to the United States, a holiday I enjoyed was Thanksgiving, because around this time, it was an excuse to have plate after plate of delicious home cooking, and if I was lucky, markets would begin selling holiday seasonal eggnog early and I could enjoy that with pumpkin pie. I used to wish every time of the year was this festive and food this plentiful, and when Ramadan ended last week on September 9th, one of my thoughts about experiencing it was that that entire month of fasting and then breaking it at night was like Thanksgiving every day.

To celebrate a national holiday and observe a religious period from two vastly different cultures may not seem too daunting to people who are used to growing up in a diverse environment like the U.S. which is constantly emphasizing its diversity today (especially with Obama as president), but in my own experience, it’s literally a taste (no pun intended, but fittingly appropriate) of where the world goes as a result of globalization.

One of my college professors even joked once that thanks to globalization, he can actually eat something decent in London, ranging from Indian curry to Spanish tapas (he isn’t particularly fond of most of the local concoctions in England).

Whenever I make crepes or cook something at home, I can’t say any food I make represents my nationality or ethnicity, but I certainly don’t have the bachelor cooking skills of microwaving pop tarts, or the college diet of instant ramen. My friends and ex-girlfriends have sampled my cooking, which includes but is not limited to French crepes, Japanese okonomiyaki and tamago kake gohan, Indonesian chicken rendang, Hawaiian spam musubi, and Italian gorgonzola and walnut salad with balsamic vinegar. If you are what you eat, then I’m an avenue of little restaurants with different specialty dishes people love to walk down and sample every time they’re there.

It’s one of the reasons I love travel and my experience overseas, because eating the same food every day can be kind of boring–although I do admit, I tend to eat Asian food more often than not.

As of late, however, when it comes to what I eat, I’m somewhere between the poverty diet and student diet, since I’m in the process of rebuilding my life after a tough year. Dollar menus at McDonald’s and Wendy’s, food that’s free from working in a pizza parlor as a manager part-time, and the occasional meal on weekends if I’ve saved up enough to treat myself. It is pretty tough, but it also makes me health-conscious and spendthrift, since I can’t waste five bucks on a bag of chips when I could get bananas for 19 cents each at Trader Joe’s, which are more than enough to fill me up for a meal or throughout the day.

This experience teaches me it’s more than what you eat, but how you eat. When I was with some Buddhist monks in Thailand, they didn’t talk at all, they focused completely on the act of eating, out of both respect for the food and totality in all things they did. When I was with Muslim friends fasting throughout Ramadan, they didn’t wolf down their food at sunset when they broke the fast, they ate it gracefully and gratefully, taking as long as two hours on average for one meal since it’s a time to socialize, to reflect, and appreciate and savor the taste of their food. When I’m working throughout the week, I see myself walking while eating a burger or sandwich, and I’m joined by other commuters who are sipping their coffees and occasionally chomping on their lunches while texting from their mobile phones and using their laptop computers.

It’s these little things you notice when you travel that make you question how you eat and what you eat. My friends used to think I was weird for eating with a spoon and fork as opposed to eating “normally” with a knife and fork, but I pointed out to them that much of Southeast Asia, from the Philippines to Thailand, Indonesia, and Malaysia eat with a spoon and fork instead as a cultural norm. Or look at how a lot of people would think Chinese and Japanese people are rude for slurping their ramen loudly, but in actuality, slurping some noodles soups is the only way to get the specific flavor that comes from the temperature changing as you slurp it hot. It’s true!

So the next time you go out and eat, think about more than just how it tastes or what you’re in the mood for, but why you are drawn to that food more often than not, considering the costs and the process it’s made–just like how people are weaned to love McDonald’s because they remember not just the taste of the food and how it’s almost always the same internationally, but the Happy Meals and the play places (the little playgrounds in some restaurant branches); they’re tasting the memories of that fun besides the beef and cheese in every bite. Think about that with every meal you eat and be amazed.

Have you ever…

Posted: 14th August 2010 by admin in Uncategorized
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…started speaking English or your “mother tongue” with an accent when you meet up with someone else who speaks with an accent?

…used steel wool to better your reception?

…seen someone in a National Geographic documentary that you recognized?

…finished up your food even though you’re not hungry because you´re not sure when you´ll get your next meal?

…finished up your food even though you’re not hungry because you can´t bear to throw it out?

…looked in your wallet at the cash register and not remembered which bill is the right one for the country you´re in (and for a second, you can´t remember which one
that is either)?

…asked someone to buzz your cell to find it and on finding it, start calling back the missed call (oh, no, I guess that´s just a blond thing, another group I belong to)?

…left a supermarket with nothing because you can´t decide among so many options?

…understood why Obama was so proud of catching that mosquito?

Third Culture Kids as Superheroes

Posted: 12th August 2010 by admin in Uncategorized
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Taken from http://heyitsjohnnyc.wordpress.com/2010/08/11/third-culture-kids-as-superheroes/

Alan Moore and Neil Gaiman's Miracleman
Hope is the key, compassion is the flag of the righteous man.

When I was younger, I used to dream of having super powers. Superman, Captain Marvel, Miracle Man, Batman, Spider-Man: all of them
seemed to have more to be proud of than they had to be resentful of
their mixed blessings. When you can do anything you want from flying,
super strength and speed, and near-invincibility, why would anyone want
to be normal? Why hide their heroic identities and live dual lives as
mediocre humans? They have the power to do everything and be anything
at their finger tips.

It was when I realized that I was a Third Culture Kid and all the envy and scorn (often mixed together) people had was when I realized
that 1) people don’t like what’s different, and 2) I was different. The
envy at what was perceived to be a fun upbringing going around the
world, and the scorn for what they perceived as a privilege that they
never had caused them to ostracize me, alienating me and making me
wonder if I was nothing but the sum total of all the negative opinions
they had of me. After all, dozens of people couldn’t be wrong, perhaps
there had to be some truth in what they saw which I couldn’t.

Then after years of people telling me as a teenager that I was wasting my time reading comic books, I realized that there are indeed
drawbacks to having great powers. The Spider-Man
live-action films of the 2000s constantly had the title protagonist be
reminded that “with great power comes great responsibility” and in
spite of being made to appear as a menace to society by the tabloids,
he chose to still help others, because who else would be able to stand
up and do the right thing? Evil succeeds when good men stand by and do
nothing.

Or take the Doom Patrol, a group of individuals who find that their accidentally-acquired
superpowers are more of a handicap than a gift that allows them to
defend a world that views them as freaks rather than saviors.

It was from all this reflecting that I realized what the dilemma was for these meta-humans: they can have amazing superpowers to change the
world at the cost of almost never being understood and accepted by
others, and having very few friends to relate to and trust.

Yet amidst the constant self-loathing and angst, they continue to fight and do the right thing by choice. With great power comes great
responsibility, and what do we as Third Culture Kids and global nomads
have? Knowledge of the world. Knowledge is power, after all.

People may never understand us, and we will continue to encounter others who judge us with their own limited experiences and categories
as we go through life, even if we weren’t Third Culture Kids.

What separates superheroes from supervillains–despite both being meta-humans–is the choices they make and values they have. On the
surface, yes, they both have special talents and powers, but what they
choose to do with it, whether it is saving the world, conquering the
world, destroying the world, or hiding from the world, this choice of
how their powers are applied is what separates and defines them as
superheroes and supervillains (and talented outcasts who favor
self-preservation over choosing sides in their conflicts).

By the same token, TCKs who realize what they are and what they can do can choose to be a certain breed: those who try to make the most of
their experiences to live the best life they can for themselves, and
those who choose to use the knowledge that they have acquired from life
to help others. Neither choice indicates who is a hero or villain,
since this dichotomy isn’t meant to define good and bad, but to help
realize our potential, and which path suits us better.

Instead of dividing people into groups by race, nationality, social class, gender, and religion, look at the values, goals, attitudes,
ambitions, and achievements of others. It is not where we came from or
what we went through, but what we do with it.

After all, at the end of the day, we are all just humans, like everyone else. We are not better than them, we are just different. It
is a mark of maturity and accomplishment to turn a weakness into a
strength, much like one can turn a crisis into an opportunity. So it is
not because of being raised to become Third Culture Kids that makes us
like superheroes, but because of our choices–even for those who are
not TCKs–to be the best we can be for ourselves, and eventually give
back to others.

To gaze at the world that judges us, that misunderstands us, that ostracizes us, with eyes not of scorn, but compassion and love, that is
what allows us to know we have evolved into superhumans, not just
because of our experiences, but also in spite of them.

Thus Spoke Zarathustra.

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-ZZ96c5OGy4]

Does telling people where you’re from really help them to understand better?

Posted: 4th August 2010 by admin in Uncategorized
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Taken from http://heyitsjohnnyc.wordpress.com/2010/08/03/does-telling-people-where-youre-from-really-help-them-to-understand-better/

Do you grok this?

Does telling people your life story or experiences as a TCK really make it easier for others to understand you? I feel that people end up making more judgments based off our experiences understanding less because of their categorizations as opposed to understanding more. Perceiving me as a rich kid or braggart for talking about growing up overseas and international schools, moving around a lot–different things have different meanings to different people. What has happened to us that makes us Third Culture Kids is not easy to understand to those who haven’t had the same experiences.

People are stubbornly attached to their own comfort zone and categorizations, and the moment you go beyond what is in their frame of reference (or dare say challenge it), it’s like ripping a child from the womb. Whatever information you give them that you think might help to understand you better is more often than not going to be filtered by their own frame of reference before they pass their judgments. And people judge harshly, which we all know–because we ourselves do it just as harshly to others as well.

Put simply: it is very seldom that we “grok” one another. Grokking is a concept used by Robert Heinlein from his book Stranger in a Strange Land, which refers to a greater knowing and understanding profoundly and intuitively, that your understanding of what someone else is teaching, saying, or sharing is synchronized so well that you share the same reality instead of going through the filters of personal interpretation. That is what it means to grok someone or something.

So then, why do we feel the frustration building up inside us when they don’t grok what we are saying to explain our experiences? It’s not just a TCK’s issue, but a human interaction and communication issue as well. What do we do then if we are aware that we will not be grokked by everybody, nor will we grok everyone else?

One approach I am a fan of is compassion. It takes a great deal of maturity to do this, which comes from the right attitude. Accept that others will not always grok you, but because of your ability to rise above that, you do your best to grok them and appreciate what you do have that allows you to see what they do not. You’ll be a lot happier this way when you don’t go around feeling entitled to acceptance and understanding by others and that you should be treated as higher and mightier for being a world traveler.

The other approach is to ignore them. Do we really need to explain to everyone our life stories? In Daoist teachings, they believe that words highlight reality, not define or describe it, much like we should focus on the moon, not the finger pointing to it. However, we can gaze into a pond to see the moon itself just as easily as staring right at the moon, also a teaching from the Daoists. In that respect, people take us as we are at the moment, not where we came from or what we tell them.

Take a look at this Calvin and Hobbes comic:

If Calvin was a TCK

What are some of the ways people can perceive us? Well, when I tell people I grew up in Thailand, China, the Philippines and America, the common response is “Stuck-up, arrogant rich kid trying to show off.” When I follow the attitude a fellow TCK took after I explained to her that she appears as boastful and elitist for talking so openly and freely about her life experiences riding elephants, her attitude showed that she probably won’t be making many friends with non-TCKs:

“I will NEVER hide the fact I’m a TCK! I’m proud of it, and if nobody can appreciate or understand my life riding on elephants, driving through oil fields, or living amongst terrorists, I don’t need them!”

In that respect, she reinforces the notion that she is stuck-up and arrogant when she elevates herself above others and rejects them for not being able to understand her.

So who do you want to be? An individual of the moment or stuck in the past hung up on your experiences? Living in the moment or wondering why you’re so unhappy right now? Seizing the day and having more fun than everyone else, planning your goals and ambitions, or wondering where the next destination will be?

Being dragged around the world should teach you how to adapt and plan out your life instead of letting your parents or life circumstances control you. And if it doesn’t, that’s a life lesson to work on. Here’s a hint about it though: it never ends. Keep striving to go higher, and you just may reach beyond the stars.

Rising out of The Abyss: A TCK’s Story of Redemption and Rebirth

Posted: 2nd August 2010 by admin in Uncategorized
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Hello everyone, as you may recall, a few months ago, I was on the verge of oblivion in light of life circumstances. My father had died, my family had fractured, leaving me alone, and all my money disappeared going to my father’s hospital bills. All plans I had and the world I knew had fallen apart–something I thought I would be used to after living the Third Culture Kid life and moving around a lot and going through twelve schools. Here I am now, happy and positive, having had my epiphany that came from ending up on the streets, being betrayed by “friends” I thought I knew, and nearly dying. Below is an edited version of an e-mail I sent to my professor, summarizing what I went through after I lost my father, money, and all hope.

Hello! I’m back here in California. I just wanted to let you know that I’ve gone through a lot in the past few months that makes them seem more like a few years, and as a result, I’ve come out a new man.

I arrived on 16 July after a long, harrowing series of events that can best be summarized by a purgatory experience after going through hell.

As I recall, the last update I had was that I was sleeping on the floor of a dirty house and with less than a hundred dollars in my pocket. I had moved to the east coast after losing my father and money to start a new life in Pittsburgh with a friend I had known from community college, who had convinced me there were jobs and it was a great place to expand my network, especially since cost of living is cheap. What I did not know was that his ulterior motive was to use me as an eventual stream of income to pay for his bills, a scapegoat to blame for his own sins, and more that is probably best left unmentioned.

Needless to say, I made my way to New York City to find answers, feeling that I would find some there, which I did when my best friend of 13 years met me there and abandoned me, leaving me on the streets alone. As it turned out, I ended up being stranded there, homeless and alone, sleeping on subway trains, the floor of Grand Central Station, park benches, the back of buses, and the streets by Times Square. Sick, alone, and miserable, I realized that I had more than I thought I did. My cell phone and charger were there, my friends are there even if spread across the world, and my education. I made a phone call to a friend and he gave me $1500 to get out of New York, get my remaining belongings in Pittsburgh and sell them, then on the Greyhound and back to California. I called up another friend and told him the situation, and he gave me a chance to stay on his couch in Los Angeles until October 1st.

Shortly before my return, I ended up in the hospital, the weight of the emotional duress, the lack of nourishment from not eating, and the viruses that I contracted from being on the street took their toll on me, and I ended up in critical condition in St. Mary’s in Pittsburgh. My father appeared to me as I lay on the bed, and I told him I wasn’t ready to join him before he disappeared. Then a girl I loved once appeared and told me to be strong, that I would be okay and I just have to get up and keep fighting because she would be waiting for me. I woke up from the bed drenched in sweat, but suddenly well, and not sick at all. I could suddenly breathe again and my body wasn’t weak, but it wasn’t in fighting condition either. I discharged myself, and went to get my belongings, then a couple days later, hopped on the Greyhound.

It was when I was on the Greyhound from Pennsylvania to California that I realized the true blessing of my education, especially from UCLA. To be amongst people who had no ambitions, constantly on drugs, selfishly pushing each other around for more seats, homeless, or fighting for petty things like the right to drink alcohol on a bus that prohibits it, I saw where I could be if I had not had my education, and if I had not had my will to survive and succeed. I did not judge them, because it was then that my lessons in life had finally sunk in: acceptance and appreciation.

I knew it was just a transition, and it was a learning experience. By the very end when I arrived back on 16 July 2010, filthy from five days without a shower, tired from carrying my suitcase and two bags, and weary from the physical and emotional abuse I had endured from fellow passengers, I stepped off the bus in Downtown Los Angeles and after crawling through all that shit, I came out a clean man. I raised my fist to the sky and shouted with joy for being blessed with a second chance at life.

On the same day, my friend picked me up and I went to another’s house, showered, and got ready to see the sea on Santa Monica Pier. The sea is the one place in my life where I truly feel connected to this world and life, and for the hours I stood there in silent meditation, I felt as though that was the best conversation with the closest friend I had ever had.

As I walked away from the sea, I got a phone call and a friend asked me to meet him at the Promenade. Within an hour, I had already secured a temporary source of income tutoring someone visiting from Japan every day in English. The next day, I had expanded my network when I walked into an event with my camera and recorder, and as a result of my passion for world affairs and writing, I made friends with people who said to submit my articles any time to their magazine and they’d consider publishing my writing.

Over the past 2 weeks since I’ve returned, I have looked at this city I once scorned with new eyes, accepting that it isn’t perfect and appreciating what it has in comparison to everywhere I had gone to, as well as realizing my own self-worth. I have made new friends and grown closer to those I already have, for they care for me and love me. Every day I wake up thinking how fortunate I am and thanking the Universe for what I have, especially because I have a chance to make myself better, starting from zero and having nobody but myself to care for and use that opportunity to ascend.

I’m focused on signing up for temp work, but I’m also confident in the jobs I am applying to because my positive attitude tells me that after going through the worst, everything gets better. This is especially true because when I was at my worst, I fought hard to make sure it wouldn’t get worse than that, and realized being at my worst wasn’t so bad, but I could walk out of it a better man. Nobody has to stay anywhere forever, and I should know this having been bounced around the world. Soon I will know if I have a job at STA Travel in Westwood, and amidst that opportunity, I have other options lined up.

Whether I am in UCSD next year or backpacking in Iceland, or wherever the Universe guides me through, I am confident I will be fine because I have true wealth, which I measure through the relationships I have with other people, the self-respect and love that we should all have, and my education. The funny thing is, I made a wish for this once. I had walked into my room and saw three candles that said “Dreams Come True” and I wished for the love of my life and I to be together, for wealth and success in grad school and life, and for my father to not suffer anymore. I never bought them and nobody brought them to me either. So I lit them and went to sleep and had a dream where all of these wishes came true. The first part has yet to come true, but the second part is happening already, and I feel like The Richest Man in Babylon now. The third part ended as it did, and my father is in peace in the next world. So here I am now, making use of what I have now, trying to make the candles three for three.

Pittsburgh is not a TCK-friendly city. My experiences there did not help it either. It doesn’t matter how cheap a place is or how many jobs are there: if I’m alone and have no friends, nothing can compensate for that. I have friends throughout the world, and I am not alone. So I returned to where my friends were and wake up with new vigor for life.

To conclude, I learned something valuable in my college sociology class. The lessons of reality have been very helpful for me in life, and we can create our own realities. And I choose to recreate my reality into something beautiful, happy, and wonderful. It has infected many I have come across, simply because they can see it in my eyes, smile, and carefree attitude. Every morning, three times I say to myself when I first wake up, when I look in the mirror, before I step out the door, the following: “Fabulous. Awesome. Wonderful. Lovely. I’m having more fun than they are. Fantastic. Beautiful. Isabella [name of the girl who appeared when I was in the hospital], I love you. I’m going to get into UCSD for grad school.” The order doesn’t matter, but my day begins once I’ve done my morning ritual and stepped out the door.

From recreating myself and shaping this new reality, an idea came to me, and now I have begun work on my most ambitious project to date: Tabula Rasa, an organization dedicated to opening the minds and hearts of people, inspired my my experience as a Third Culture Kid and aimed at helping my fellow TCKs use our mixed blessing from a life of wandering. I will share more of this with you as time goes by. These are conclusions I have drawn from the lessons of reality and knowing we can step outside of it and recreate it. And with that, I know things will get better, for they already are. They are wonderful, I feel fabulous, I can do so many awesome things, life is beautiful and people should know how it is lovely by having more fun, and because of all this, I will achieve great things.

It is by will alone I set my mind in motion.

Third Culture Kids as Magicians

Posted: 31st July 2010 by admin in Uncategorized
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The word “magic” usually conjures (no pun intended) a lot of different reactions. Whether it is the fantasy world of Harry Potter, the parlor tricks of illusionists, or the books and practices in the New Age section of bookstores which are littered with tarot cards and other forms of divination, magic means different things to different people.

To really go back, it comes from the word “magi” which means “wisdom” in Ancient Persian. It also referred to the Wise Men, and had already developed connotations of being associated with tricksters, since the Magi were essentially those whose knowledge of the world was vastly different from the rest of the people. Specifically, what they knew was that they were more than just mere beings living on the material plane of existence because there was something more out there. Their methods for developing this understanding were what gave them differing views from others, specifically, manipulating fate through astrology and alchemy.

Let’s take a step back for a moment though: when we refer to astrology and alchemy in this context, it isn’t the newspaper astrology predicting if you will win the lottery, nor is it the alchemy that creates potions that transforms people into cockroaches. These were ways to look at the worlds around them, within them, and beyond them, and these were their ways of trying to help them better themselves and their world as they move between them.

Put this in a Third Culture Kids context: there is a certain fire that gets ignited at a point in our lives after we have endured the trials and tribulations of the world. It is precisely because we go out into the world that we know there is something beyond the house we live in, the neighborhood that house is in, the city that house is in, the state or province that house is in, the country that province is in, and the region that country is in.

We as Third Culture Kids perceive the world differently, and as such, the way we talk and interact with others, the way we try to define ourselves, and many of the things we do are beyond the sphere of understanding held by the people who have not been thrown into the world like we have been. As such, our greatest gift is our greatest curse: we know things that others do not, and the beliefs and values we have are a huge contrast to them as well, which creates the loneliness and alienation we feel when trying to fit in, not helped by others ostracizing us and reinforcing the notion that we are weird or abnormal.

This is where Third Culture Kids can learn from the magicians. As magic is wisdom, it is also a science, an art, and a religion: science in that it attempts to explain how the world works, art because of the open interpretations and different systems used to do so, on top of the way the world is perceived as a canvas to create and recreate at a certain level, and religion in that it teaches magicians to carry a higher level of conscience and consciousness.

We as Third Culture Kids have this higher level of consciousness from our travels. We as Third Culture Kids should use this knowledge to manipulate and recreate the world for all the beauty we see and to repair the wounds we know exist that many do not. We understand where it comes from, because we have lived in it and through it, and continue to live with it every day, whether it is the missionary child raised near the land mines in Cambodia, or the people in the Philippines who know any day they could be at a mall or church and be bombed, beheaded, or kidnapped by extremists.

The difference between the magicians and other people is that other people are programmed by outside influences and ideas, magicians are self-programmers. Do we allow other people to define us, believing that we are abnormal, that we are limited by our ethnicity, our passport country, our gender, our social class, or our possessions? Or do we let those labels and categories fall off of us because of our strong wills and open minds? It is the concept of Tabula Rasa, Latin for the blank slate, that allows us to follow the magicians to define and redefine ourselves, to create our own self-worth instead of letting others program us.

Plato’s cave allegory talks about people living in caves, seeing the shadows flickering on the walls and perceiving those shadows as reality. A man leaves the cave and sees reality for what it truly is, and that what everyone else trapped in the cave sees are shadows of reality. But because he has gone into the world and they have not, it is beyond their ability to understand or accept, and as such, he is ostracized and ridiculed. Because of his experience, he has acquired wisdom beyond the cave dwellers, and with that wisdom, he is also able to understand and accept that they do not know what he does, so instead of judging them and dismissing them, he learns to accept and love them, and use his magic (or wisdom) in subtle ways to guide them to their highest and truest potentials, and eventually to leave the cave and be in the world.

We are Third Culture Kids, we are magicians. Let us use our magic to love others, understand the world, and help make the world a better place.

Obon Matsuri for Nikkei

Posted: 28th July 2010 by admin in Uncategorized
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Taken from http://heyitsjohnnyc.wordpress.com/2010/07/27/southern-california-obon-matsuri-festival-season-2010/

Living without a routine and going beyond my existing network is a daily practice in opening my eyes to this wonderful world we live in. I lived in California for five years and this is the first time I ever attended any Obon Matsuri (festival), a very popular and lively event in the Japanese-American community.

In Japanese Buddhism, around July, the temples recognize obon, a ritual that honors the ancestors. Traditionally, in Japan, they have a service, and the community organizes the festivals. However, in the United States, the Japanese American community is the temple, for most of them gather there, which is why it is unique for the temple itself to organize the matsuri. Cultural traditions and practices transform, and we have this wonderful yearly event celebrated by the Japanese-American community and open to all. Throughout the day, there is standard festival food and games, they play Taiko, and they end with a long dance to honor the ancestors, then wrap it up with a group prayer.

It was rather interesting at the three temples I went to in Venice, Little Tokyo, and West Los Angeles, because I as a Third Culture Kid stood there amongst my Nikkei (Japanese-American) friends, and my Japanese friends from Tokyo at the festival, all with our own impressions. For Tomii and Kentaro, they saw it as something slow and the usual thing, just a bit different from their own memories of life in Japan; for Jana and my other Nikkei friends, they see it as something that’s their heritage and a yearly event for fun and tradition. For me, as a Third Culture Kid, I loved it even as out of place as I felt. Sure, they opened their celebration of the odori kaifor everyone, and after my initial hesitations, I had fun amidst a feeling of envy and alienation.

Why did I feel envious? I guess it’s because unlike these Japanese-Americans and my Japanese friends, it’s easier for them to say that it’s their culture, their practice, their tradition. For me, after moving around Thailand, China, the Philippines, and United States, I just feel that–in spite of my Chinese-Filipino heritage and American passport–I still can’t say that there’s any culture to call my own. If anything, it feels like everything–including my ethnic heritage and nationality–aren’t really mine per se, rather, that they feel “borrowed.”

Although I can say that I have familiarity with my Chinese, Filipino, and American heritage, they still don’t feel like they are mine since it’s more like I go through the motions and stand outside them. Sometimes it’s like I am Filipino, Chinese, and American when I pick and choose, like an all-you-can-eat buffet.

Yes, I’ll remember Philippine Independence Day when someone tells me, I’ll eat moon cake in the fall, and I’ll celebrate both Lunar New Year and Fourth of July, and I’ll go with my friends to Cinco de Mayo, but ultimately, it’s like I’m a blank slate, the proverbial tabula rasa (which is incidentally the name of the foundation dedicated to Third Culture Kids I hope to one day create), standing outside looking in.

A counterpoint to this is that as a Third Culture Kid, we have our own culture, which is defined exactly by that blank slate, with no nationality or ethnicity restricting us. We have a community that exists when we realize who we are, but there are very few passionate people dedicated to helping the rest when, like many times, in groups and communities, there are more free riders who take what they can and then move on. In fact, I didn’t even know I was a Third Culture Kid until a few years ago. Although I will never be able to speak for all of us, I do have enough in common with them through my experiences, feelings, and growth as a human being for us to all relate to in some small way.

When talking to my good friend Erin, we talked about some of the mistaken assumptions people make about how culture has to be about exoticism and “otherness” which is why they think there is no American or Philippine culture, because they adopt so much from other cultures. Whether it is the European immigrants, the Native Americans, or whatever different waves of people coming through, they have this strange misunderstanding that it is not American culture, which runs contrary to the idea mentioned above how culture and traditions transform, as evident in the Japanese-American community and temples celebrating obon.

From one anthropological perspective, culture is constantly evolving and transforming, and globalization has always been happening throughout the ages. Culture is neither static nor is it bound to any geographic locale, yet it becomes a badge of pride and a mark of identity in this ever-changing world when more borders are drawn rather than bridges built. How ironic I say this from a theoretical perspective, whereas from a personal one, I still desire to have my own cultural identity.

At the very least, the best part about being a blank slate is that, like a canvas and a white sheet of paper, I can choose what to fill it up with and make it uniquely my own instead of having my identity handed out to me. I am the artist and the writer, and no country’s borders, no nationality, and no ethnicity can stand out as the primary basis for defining me as a person, as a human being, and as an individual.

Venice Obon
Adorable odori kids
Higashi Obon
Bonsai exhibit in West L.A. temple
Pretty odori kai dancers: “Hi I’m Peter Parker–take your picture for the school paper?” (note to self: JAIL BAIT)
The wonderful Jana and me at West L.A. obon matsuri

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vNDa3ZerA6k]

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=E1SMuVvlPUc]

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xVNTTwt7woM]

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=o2cbkXu_6S4]

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SpPcGjnzQr4]

Third Culture GOONIES

Posted: 21st July 2010 by admin in Uncategorized
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June 7th, 2010 marked the 25th anniversary of the classic adventure film of the 1980s, The Goonies.


For those of you who have not seen this wonderful film, shame on you. For those of us who remember fondly, it was one of those films that had everything in it that compelled us to rent the movie multiple times so that our own copy would never wear out from multiple viewings because it was just that great of a movie.

The movie is a wild adventure starring a group of misfits who are out on one last adventure because they are about to lose their homes to real estate developers ready to demolish the land. Upon a chance discovery of a pirate’s map, the gang decides one last adventure before parting ways, maybe even a chance to find some treasure and save their homes. Along the way, they must deal with the Fratellis, a family of mobsters pursuing them through the trap-filled caverns on the way to One-Eyed Willie’s treasure, which happens to unfortunately be underneath the Fratelli’s hideout.

Where exactly did that charm come from? Well, let’s start with the fact that it had memorable, lovable characters who had distinct personalities and unique talents that made everyone important throughout the story, whether it was Mouth’s international tongue of trouble-making to Data’s crazy inventions, and Mikey’s “never say never, never give up” attitude that initiates their last adventure and sees them through to the end whenever they consider giving up and going back. Let’s throw in pirates, gangsters, and a giant squid if you saw the deleted scenes on the DVD extras menu, or the special television broadcasts that had that featured.

Wait a minute. There’s something there. Let’s think about it for a second.

The Goonies gang is a ragtag bunch of misfits who are misunderstood by everyone else, but stick together because they have each other. They are the only ones who understand one another, and for that reason, they are drawn together. They don’t judge others, they just don’t fit in well with others, and they are fine with it because they know they are different and make use of their uniqueness, as well as appreciating each others’ quirks. Wait a minute, are we talking about The Goonies or are we talking about Third Culture Kids?

Watch the movie with the idea in mind that The Goonies are Third Culture Kids. Our experiences are what shape us, but it is what we do with what we learn from this that shapes the world. We may not be like everyone else and we may not have the privilege of all being together in Astoria, Oregon, but we are connected beyond neighborhoods, generations, social classes, and country borders by our shared values and our experiences as Third Culture Kids. Life itself is the adventure, and we all have something to contribute to this world. Every day, we encounter our own adversaries like the Fratellis and random giant squids as we search for One-Eyed Willie’s pirate treasure and a way to a better life, to paradise.

Beyond being Third Culture Kids, we all have it in us to go on our own adventures in search of our own pirate’s bounty, because we are all Goonies. What is a Goonie? A Goonie is anyone who is willing to stand by his or her values and friends to go into the world and never give up or stick by a comfort zone, which is why Goonies go on adventures. Whether it is because you can do the truffle shuffle like Chunk (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=t5whaRkuipU) or you have a big heart like Sloth, who you are doesn’t matter where you come from, but where you are going. It is not what we used to be or the sum of places we’ve lived in, but what we can ultimately do with what we have taken with those experiences.

So as Cyndi Lauper says that the Goonies R Good Enough, we as Third Culture Kids and as global gladiators can be something greater. So join in on the adventure and remember: you have something to give to this world, even if it’s knowing how to say bad words in eleven languages (Mouth), just like getting into trouble (Mikey), or know how to play only a little piano, which is better than nothing (Andy). Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to find out whether I can do the truffle shuffle to help pay my bills or save the world.

Here I am

Posted: 2nd July 2010 by admin in Uncategorized
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Been so many places in my life and time ..


That line always rang true, even though it was a hit song when I was young.
I’m turning 50 this year and haven’t been this depressed this I turned 20. They’re two of I guess three (if we’re lucky) major age milestones we get. At least for women, because of our biological clock. And I’m still working on the first one, emotionally! I only found this site a few weeks ago and felt, ah, finally! Too late for me though, like with most things the world finally gets around to. The damage is done. I’ve been looking for a way out all my life and realized today this is really the only one.
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