On Raising a Third Culture Kid in a Xenophobic World

A few weeks back, while waiting in line with Diva for a boat ride on a sweltering hot day, a man cut in front of me and when I complained he told me to go back to where I came from.

“Verstehst du kein Deutsch?” he said, even though I had vocalized my complaint in German. I continued to argue with him, telling him how appalling I found his behavior, arguing loudly enough that two gentlemen nearby understood what was going on and stepped in to tell him he was out of line. But he didn’t relent. “Verstehst du kein Deutsch?” he spit at me again before bullying his way through to the front.

And I had to wonder: was it my accent? Or was he saying that I clearly didn’t understand what it means to be Deutsch? That even if I could understand the words I would never truly versteh Deutsch because if I did, I would understand that people here can act like entitled pricks and I should just bite my tongue and look away.

I tried not to take it personally. After all, everyone was cranky and so I thought maybe I was overreacting, thinking that he was singling me out for my accent when really he was just a jackass. It wasn’t about Germans and foreigners but about two jerks arguing over proper behavior in public. He clearly thinks he was right because he was old and white and middle-class and should be allowed to do whatever the fuck he wants and me, a jerk for thinking there is a modicum of politeness that people should show each other in public by queuing properly.

Instead, I caught myself really questioning his comments. Do I look that foreign? Will I ever fit in here? And how can I teach Diva to do right in the world when she is surrounded by shit like this? Because the thing is, I do take comments about my accent personally and after six weeks of nearly nonstop travel, I was very sensitive to my otherness. In every town I visited, I was introduced as “the American” and although people often fawned over me and my daughter, I was also told numerous times that the person I was talking to in German could “versteh kein Wort” before they’d ask if I spoke German.

If I wasn’t introduced but instead introduced myself, the literal second question out of the other person’s mouth was “Where you from?” Buying petrol in a gas station, the clerk told me I must’ve been on vacation because I didn’t look like I was from around there. A tour guide said she knew who I was immediately upon hearing my accent because she’d heard there was a New Yorker in town. When I picked up concert tickets, a guy offered to meet up with me because he loves Finland and could show me around (Finland? that’s a new one).

You may think it’s cute but imagine that every day both strangers and friends alike remind you that you’re a foreigner. They do it with laughs and joking or they do it with repeated requests for you to say that one word that you pronounce funny or they do it by cursing you out or talking more slowly. Worse: they switch straight to English after you’ve you just opened your mouth to speak and then ask where you’re from. I’ve written about my disdain for this small talk before. No, I don’t want to be chatted up with the line “Where you from?” when I only just met you. I don’t want to be singled out as an outsider every goddamned time I open my mouth. I have been in Germany for ten years and it doesn’t look like I’m leaving any time soon and these daily — sometimes multiple times a day — reminders that I’m different are not harmless. Why should I have to explain myself to you? After ten years here, can I say I’m from Cologne? Why do you assume I can’t speak or understand German because I have a slight accent?

Imagine if I weren’t blonde-haired and blue-eyed. Or an English speaker. Imagine how much more frequently people would ask me where I’m from if I had a Muslim name, as my daughter does (and literally anyone who has ever known her name is Muslim has asked me if I am — none of your business people, none).

A friend of mine who shares my daughter’s surname told me I should consider myself lucky that people are nice and friendly when they ask me where I’m from. “Imagine being the daughter of a Palestinian refugee,” she said, and then she said, “At least when my dad arrived in the 70s, Palestinians were still acceptable. At least he wasn’t Turkish.”

I’m really curious about this sorting out that is done in Germany, this trying to put each person into a particular drawer. The Bavarians in one drawer, the Amis in another, and all of those stereotypes that come along with those labels are applied in advance. Diva, she’s been introduced by some well-meaning people lately as being American as if that says something about her; though she doesn’t correct them, she has learned on her own that this means they think she can’t speak German and so she tells them she speaks German just fine. She’s six and people are already trying to sort her into one or the other category and she understands this. Although she’s proud to be a dual national, she has very little idea of what it means to be American except that it’s a word and people use it when talking about her. But she doesn’t want to be different than the other kids and so I wonder about what this does and will do to her. Kids don’t make these distinctive identifications on their own. They learn these identities as they are given them. Does this happen in the US? Are immigrant children singled out upon introduction as “My Afghani friend Amir”? At what point can we safely assume Germans will stop introducing Diva and I as the Americans?

Of course it’s not as if I want her to choose one identity over the other. But as she grows up in a world filled with xenophobes and xenophobia, I don’t want her to feel the repercussions of this othering. She didn’t choose to be born in a country different from my country of birth. And since you really can’t call her an immigrant anymore, I’m very curious at what point she’ll be accepted as German. Would it be different if she didn’t have a Muslim name? Will it be different for her in the world if she isn’t with me and doesn’t tell people of her American heritage?

My acquaintance with the Palestinian father tells me I shouldn’t deny her the chance to learn about “my” culture. She tells me that I should not try to fully conform her to the German ways and I agree. But as the debate rages on in Germany about refugees and migrants, where xenophobia is not only omnipresent, it’s deeply ingrained, I wonder if I’m not doing her a disservice by raising her with both nationalities and expecting tolerance.

I’m told I’m not. I’m told that I have nothing to worry about — that because I am American, this tolerance is there. I’m told that I’m a “good” immigrant because I pay taxes, because I learned the language, because I’m well educated. And though those last three things are true, I know many other immigrants who do those things as well  but who would still not be classified as “good,” for whatever inane reason the classifier can conjure. But I’ve also experienced that tolerance differently. I came to Germany right after George W Bush had invaded Iraq and people wanted to argue with me about “my” politics. They tried to shame me in classrooms and in bars and in university staff meetings for having elected such a president (I didn’t vote for Bush but that didn’t matter, only my passport did). Right now America is “good.” Right now I am working and therefore “good.” It’s a distinction I’d prefer not to have made, to be honest, although I’m not sure the alternative, brutal intolerance, is any better.

The day after the boat ride, Diva and I stood in line once again, queuing for another nearby attraction that would cool us off on a hot day when suddenly we realized that the woman ahead of us in line was on a diatribe. The people she was talking to were slowly backing away, giving her space, lowering their heads and so she used the opportunity to speak loudly, more clearly, address the others in the line more directly and so Diva and I caught wind of her speech.

“They had it right. Deport them. Deport them all. We don’t need any foreigners here. Foreigners should go back to where they came from.”

I put my hands over Diva’s ears but it was too late. She looked up at me and asked what the lady was so mad about. And then the lady turned to me and, in German, said “Isn’t that right?”

And though normally I would’ve snapped up the chance to tell her off — and honestly, I was waiting for the dozen other people in line who’d heard to do just such — I found myself wondering instead just how to stop this conversation from happening in front of Diva because she’s too young to have to understand or know hate and I want to protect her from that harsh reality as long as I can. And so I just said, in my perfect English. “I don’t understand. I’m a foreigner. Maybe you should deport me?”

These conversations are, unfortunately, going to be more frequent in the next few months and I know it’s not long before Diva starts asking about these things. We’ve already had talks about not labeling people as stupid or dumb and so I’m sure the slurs will come into play soon, too, unfortunately. And so I’m curious and I’m turning this over to you: how do you, as foreigners or as parents or as foreign parents work with your kids on topics of xenophobia? How are you addressing the current atmosphere of hate with them?


9 thoughts on “On Raising a Third Culture Kid in a Xenophobic World

  1. Amanda Afield September 3, 2015 / 9:09 am

    I too have had people refer to me as a “good foreigner”, which is still kind of insulting. I also dislike when people hold you responsible in conversation for your home country’s foreign policy, like you have any control over it! Agh!

    • LiebeMilly September 6, 2015 / 12:02 pm

      The foreign policy statements are the worst, especially when they’re uneducated or influenced only by substandard reporting (a la Bild Zeitung!)

  2. Meg September 3, 2015 / 10:38 am

    I’m not raising a child, so unfortunately, I have no advice on how to protect children from xenophobia, but I can tell you that even if you were living in Australia, an English speaking country, you would still be singled out and introduced as The American. My great uncle, who grew up in Scotland but lived in Australia for over 50 years, was referred to as the Scottish gentleman until the day he died. This isn’t a problem native to Germany. It is something people do across the entire world. It is human nature to categorise things, including people. That doesn’t make it acceptable, but it does in a way make it understandable.

    I don’t have issues being identified as a foreigner. I’m never going to sound like a native German and I’ve made my peace with it. I only have issues when those remarks become rude and invasive. I, however, also hate being told that I’m one of the ‘good’ immigrants. There is nothing good about me, except that I happen to be white and, thanks to my Danish heritage, I look northern European. That’s it. There are plenty of non-white immigrants, who speak way better German than I do, but unlike them, I get the privilege of passing and they don’t. I try and use my privilege as a ‘good’ immigrant by educating people about their xenophobia and hoping that it, in some small way, makes a difference.

  3. Ginger September 3, 2015 / 1:24 pm

    I’d agree with Meg, we all like to think in categories when we think of other people. It’s more obvious in Germany, perhaps, because we don’t mince our words, whereas in England you might miss any undertones because they are covered up by polite phrases.
    Personally I don’t have an issue with it: although I really enjoy living in the UK I don’t think I’ll ever feel ‘British’. My kids are born here and look the part, but generally identify themselves with their third culture identity. It’s never been an issue apart from the time my son went on a school trip to a re-enactment of child evacuees and was instantly treated with (dramatically enhanced) suspicion because of his blond hair and blue eyes … he immediately admitted to being German, but swore he wasn’t there as a spy. He thought it was hilarious, and so, quite frankly, did we. It certainly taught him a lesson about WW2!

  4. BerLinda September 3, 2015 / 10:30 pm

    I guess I’m a “good” foreigner too – I find the distinction disgusting though. And I experienced the instant hatred when my friend, who everyone assumed was American, told people she was Russian when she visited me in Latvia. Same person, same views, instant game-changer. It was quite shocking.

    • LiebeMilly September 6, 2015 / 12:01 pm

      That is shocking! I most often tell people I’m Danish because it’s very rarely a conversation starter in the way that being American is. But I can’t imagine the hatred…

      • BerLinda September 6, 2015 / 3:42 pm

        I know. If I hadn’t seen it first hand, I never would have either. It was incredible, the change in attitude. And we’d all been having such a nice time. After that, she just said she was an American banker. People took the piss but she didn’t get anywhere near the level of hate she got as a Russian.

  5. Tobi September 4, 2015 / 7:53 pm

    Interesting post. I am a German who has been living in the UK for almost 10 years, and I know that I will never get rid of that “foreigner” label either. People hear my accent, and upon revealing where I am from, I have to talk about Angela Merkel, about how much I like Britain or British food, about German engineering or whether I “miss home”.

    In my case, I don’t mind any of this, because I fall into the good (i.e. white person from a rich country) foreigner category as well, but I sometimes wonder how different people would treat me if I were Polish or African. A lot of people make Hitler jokes or assume I have no sense of humour, but that’s the worst prejudices I am confronted with, and I can live with that quite well. People automatically assume that I am hard working and always on time. If I mess things up at work, people don’t assume it’s my fault, because of course I am organised and well prepared (even if I am not).

    But I don’t think it’s very different in other countries. I spend a lot of time in Turkey, and even if I ask for a price in accent free Turkish, people will point out the number with their fingers and say it in English or in very slow Turkish, simply because my blond hair betrays me. I know this would never change, even if I lived there for 20 years and spoke perfect Turkish.

    Even in countries like the US, which, due to its history of being a nation of immigrants (and the few native Americans left) should in theory have a quite different mentality, people seem to be absolutely obsessed with origins and stereotypes. Almost every American I ever met has immediately what fraction of him is German, and New Yorkers of the n-th generation still refer to themselves as “Italian” or “Irish”.

  6. LiebeMilly September 6, 2015 / 11:59 am

    I think you and I have had similar experiences and you make a lot of good points; I, too, am told I’m a good immigrant for reasons that have little more to do with the accident of the country of my birth. Germany and the US have some sort of mutual understanding re: citizenship and residency requirements and I’ve been told I have an advantage in getting my visa renewed because I come from a wealthy country. My ex could retain dual citizenship because one of the passports was from the US so he “wouldn’t try to use the welfare system.” And although I realize my privilege in this, it’s exactly this line of thinking about the other that I’m saying we as privileged immigrants need to fight against in order to prevent the xenophobic ways of thinking that lead to discrimination against others born in less wealthy countries. Like Meg, I prefer to educate people about the errors in their ways of thinking about the “other” or even the fact that they are “othering” than to sit idly by.

    And yes, I know the American mutt mentality as regards heritage. But it’s one thing to reveal your nationality at will and another to be asked about it or pigeonholed as a result of it. I guess what I’m saying is, we can agree on our experiences but I’m hoping that my daughter retains her inability to see race and ethnicity and isn’t adversely affected by others not doing so.

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