A message to ‘third-culture kids’
Parental ambitions often conflict with aspirations for children of immigrants
“So, you are going to university. What are you going to study?”
Kids like me recognize that as a loaded question, especially when posed by a loving parent or treasured auntie.
We’re third-culture kids: born to parents of one culture and growing up in a second culture in a combination that creates a third culture.
When the question comes, we want to say we’re going into art history because we’re fascinated by the way art captures its time, but instead we say we’re going into health sciences. We want to say we’re going to study political science, because we want to solve international crises for the United Nations, but instead we say commerce or engineering. And our families are proud, because we are living up to their dream for us.
Most of us third-culture kids find ourselves pulled between family expectations and personal aspirations. Our own dreams typically take a back seat to our family obligations.
We often hear that our parents gave up their dreams so we could follow ours. But in reality, we often follow their dreams, out of love and respect for their sacrifice.
Growing up in Nigeria, I remember long nights without power. I know how my parents worked and carefully rationed their resources in tough times. I know they sought the best education for my siblings and me, because they knew learning was the way out of hardship.
I know my mother’s village and understand my father’s humble beginnings, and how hard they worked for us. There are young people in my circle whose parents escaped genocide and others whose parents left all their family behind to find a new home and new hope.
To neglect their wishes would betray our history. The stories of loss, sacrifice and opportunity are always part of migration, and they make it impossible for people like my third-culture friends and me to believe in the glib follow-your-dreams mantra.
Besides, disobeying parents like ours is punishable by long stares and awkward conversations at one end of the spectrum, and by physical, economic and emotional isolation at the other.
If your vision for yourself doesn’t match your parents’ vision for you, it does not have to end badly. It’s possible to build a collective vision.
If parents invoke the non-negotiable trinity of doctor, lawyer or engineer, understand that in their lifetime those careers have been the markers of true success. This is the time to listen to your parents — not just what they say, but what they actually mean. When they say doctor, engineer and lawyer, they mean economic stability and social mobility. They mean survival.
It is easy to imagine how a parent who has survived revolution or sacrificed through immigration would push a child to what seems to be the most stable career path. It is also true so many more forms of jobs now exist. Whole economies are collapsing into each other. Automation and advanced manufacturing are changing the nature of work itself. Health research is changing the picture of care. The truth is that an education in the liberal arts offers opportunities that are as dignifying, enriching and as precarious as any other.
My liberal arts education has exposed me to both international and Indigenous perspectives, increasing my appreciation for human knowledge and potential and my capacity for empathy. My education has trained me to compare ideas. It has taught me to design and prioritize information for effective communication. It has also provided me tools for working in diverse teams. It is not as straightforward as saying I’m a doctor, lawyer or engineer, but having an education in the liberal arts is practical, applicable and beneficial to true citizenship.
Still, even the best arguments and evidence in favour of a liberal arts degree may not be enough to change the mind of a parent who has decided to worship the trinity. There comes a point where we as children must weigh what we know about our modern world, to the values our parents espouse.
By combining what our parents know to be true, with what we experience we can find third-culture solutions. The ability to learn from our parents, yet responsibly challenge them forms bedrock for cultural innovation. We must responsibly challenge them and explore counter narratives.
As a third-culture kid, you are being raised in a different time and place than your parents. The solutions you propose may be different to those of your parents, and that must be given its due regard.
Choosing a program is a chance to share your new knowledge of the world with your parents, and for you to understand what they have lived through. They have learned hard lessons. You also know some things they don’t know.
Making the choice together is an opportunity for both sides to share and listen.