Showing posts with label TCK. Show all posts
Showing posts with label TCK. Show all posts

Saturday, December 12, 2015

Guest Blog My daughter, Ruth Jenkins
Story of my life: 
Adapting to my own culture


Growing up as an adopted TCK (third culture kid) born in Africa I’m used to change and adapting to new situations. A third culture kid is a child raised in two or more different cultures during their developmental years outside of their parents culture. I was born in Kampala, Uganda August 1999. I don’t really know the exact date of my birth but it’s an educated guess at the hospital when they found me and took me in. I don’t know anything about my biological family because I was adopted at two months old to an American family.


My parents and family never made me feel like I was anything other than their daughter or sister even though there’s an obvious difference in skin color. I only really ever notice that there’s a difference when I tell people that I am adopted because I think about what they must think of me knowing that I have parents of a different race than my own. I don’t normally tell people first off that I am adopted because I get somewhat self-conscious about how they might respond to it. First off being from Africa is something the average American thinks is crazy however being also adopted raises so many awkward questions. To answer some common questions: I’m not bilingual, I did not live in a hut and Africa is my first home yet I don’t like it better than any other places I’ve lived. I don't prefer any places I've lived before I appreciate all of them and how I've grown in all.
Although my parents are white they’re not regular, Americans who just went to Africa to adopt me and my younger brother. My mother was born in Cameroon and raised in Kenya for a few years. Her parents(my adopted Grandparents) were missionaries in Africa so that is her connection to Africa. She is a TCA(third culture adult) and I can relate to her in more ways than everyone else thinks when they first meet us. Although I am the African one by blood some days I feel like my white American parents are more African than me because of their 17 years in Uganda and Rwanda. I have four siblings, Timothy, in 7th grade, is adopted from Uganda like me, but not biologically related to me. The rest are American but understand Africa just as well as me. My first home was in Kampala Uganda where I lived for about four years.
I loved Uganda because I have my earliest memories there and can’t remember a single bad thing happening. Although we had household help that spoke Oluganda I had trouble keeping up with my friends at bible class who spoke it and pretended to know what they were saying because everyone pretty much expected me to speak the language. I never learned anything other than English throughout my whole time in Africa. After living in Kampala, Uganda, I moved to Oklahoma for about a year. In Kindergarten, I grew a little more aware about everyone around me.
School was a place where I could finally speak the same language as everyone but still felt a little bit different. Even at a small age I realized no matter where I went I would always have something different from everyone. I met my best friend Alexis in Oklahoma
because our parents were friends, we went to the same church and school. I had no idea she would be there for me after kindergarten and understand everything about me from a young age. Making friends in kindergarten was easy to do but very hard to let go of when I had to leave them. All I wanted to do was stay with Alexis and go to the same school every day. After Kindergarten, we moved back to Africa but lived in Rwanda.
Although I was born in Uganda I lived in Rwanda for most of the time I was in Africa. I don’t remember much of first, second and third grade, but I do remember that I loved having a normal routine and having friends who I saw every day and started getting closer to every year. I went to an amazing school called KICS(Kigali International Community School). KICS was an international school that my parents founded. It started out as a small school that was in a house but moved over to a building. All the students at KICS are so diverse that I didn’t feel different at all because everyone was different like me. I basically had a friend from every part of the world. Alexis had moved to KICS in 2nd grade with me. Having Alexis in Rwanda with me made me feel more like myself because she understood how diverse I was.
My mom started to get sick by the end of third grade and she left to go to Kenya for better treatment. My mom went from Kenya to America for a few months. Not having my mom around for so long didn’t affect me as much as I thought it would. Normally when you’re young and so dependent on everyone else it affects the way you act because you miss them so much. For some reason, I was just fine. It was almost as if she was just out of sight and out of mind. We eventually got to see her because we moved to Oklahoma again as she got better. We lived in the exact same city, went to the same church, but this time, things were different from kindergarten. Everyone at church had grown closer because they had been together for so long. 
I had a fairly easy time making new friends at school but reconnecting with people at church was a little harder because I couldn’t just pick off where I left on in kindergarten and talk about the same things from when I was a little kid. After my mom got better I really hoped we would stay in Oklahoma just so that I could stay with all my new friends I took such a long time to make. By the end of fourth grade we moved back to Kigali and I started fifth grade at KICS. When I got back I felt as if I was completely new although I had been there for first, second and third grade. So many new students had come the year I was gone it made me feel like all the other years I had been there didn’t even matter because they made new memories without me making it hard to pick up where I left off. Eventually, I felt a little better that I wasn’t there for fourth grade but some days it really got to me.
I had to explain myself instead of having everyone just know who I was. I didn’t know if I should identify as African or American. I had passports from both continents, but I felt like I had to choose one. Sure I'm African American but not the stereotypical one everybody thinks of. All my African friends made me think I was too different because I didn’t speak the language, but all my American friends couldn’t relate to my hair or skin problems. My African friends constantly told me that I wasn’t truly African I just had the African body and “white” mentality because of my family. I hated that. I didn’t know I could be both because I didn’t feel like both. I couldn't call myself Oreo because if I called myself a black girl with a white mentality everyone would think I was trying claim I had white privileges like my family.
I didn't know how to respond so I would just awkwardly laugh trying not to agree but also not correct them. I just wanted someone to think of me as a person and not give me a label. After 5th grade, I was still in Kigali for 6th. I was so happy that I would have a chance to build friendships for middle school and grow with them till the end of high school. My sister was in her senior year for high school and decided she was going to choose Wheaton College as the school she was going to study at for her four years of college. My parents were excited for her and spent a lot of time talking about what they would do without her. I didn’t care about how much they would miss her I thought she was tough enough getting through college alone without us. They then told me after a few months of school we would move to Wheaton and Church plant in the Chicago area.
I resented my sister the moment I heard we were moving after 6th grade. I didn’t want to leave all my friends, I again took so long to make. I didn’t want to start over another time. I hated the thought of change. No one liked new students. I don’t even like new students and I’ve been one 4 times so far. By the time we moved in 7th grade my opinion changed a little. My family went to a great summer camp in Oklahoma called TCK camp. They explained what a Third Culture Kid is, everyone shared their stories and I realized it’s not so bad to be one. I still wasn’t proud of being from all these different places, but I loved hearing that other people struggled with the same things I did. I wasn’t culturally 100% African or American either. I didn’t love the idea that I wasn’t only one thing. Normal people are only one thing is what I used to think. I just wanted to be one thing with one culture. I still hated all the adaptations I had to make, but I decided I join a few clubs at school because I might as try and get comfortable if I was going I was going to live here for the rest of my life.
I thought that as long as my parents had a job and my sister was close by we wouldn’t leave again. My 7th-grade year at Franklin was a lot better than I thought it was going to be. Moving so much taught me how to make friends and how to pick who to sit with at lunch because I had done it a lot before. Although I joined a few clubs and made lots of new friends I still felt like I wasn’t making the connections everyone else had. Everyone had their cliques and they were very nice to me, but I didn’t feel truly included until the end of the year when I joined track with my best friend. I got closer with a small group of people instead of trying to be friends with everyone I saw. At the end of 7th grade, my parents decided that the suburbs weren’t for them.
This time, I was beyond mad. I hated everything about moving around so much. I didn’t even want to compromise or keep making new friends that wouldn’t last. The TCK camp I went to was pointless to go to. We decided to go the summer of 8th grade. I didn’t want to go because I didn’t want to be a TCK. It seemed a lot more boring to me because I went but ignored everything positive they had to say. I saw only negative things. By the time we moved to the Northside Chicago in 8th grade I decided to be online schooled. I didn’t want to make friends or be a part of any clubs.
By 8th grade year, everyone knows who their friends are and when you’re a young teen your friends make up your life and it’s hard to let new people in because only a select few people like meeting new people. I really wanted to continue in dance classes because I had been in them for 4 years, but we couldn’t get into the dance classes at the places I wanted to dance at. Dance was the only thing I had during all my transitions and not having it made me feel like I lost absolutely everything.

I was at the lowest point in life by 8th grade. I joined youth groups, but no matter how hard I tried I didn’t feel included or like I belonged. The more they tried to include me the more I felt like they knew I was a homeschooled girl who didn’t have any friends. People trying to welcome you to a new place lasts for a short amount of time because they greet you, tell you about themselves and leave to their prefered group of friends. It wasn’t just that I couldn’t make friends it was that I just didn’t have the desire to. My perspective was that if I tried to make friends and I ended liking them I would just end up moving which made it feel so pointless to even try. It took a few months of trying to get used to things in the city but eventually I found a routine.

Chicago is fun, but Wheaton definitely felt a whole world way. I still don't get why people say they're from Chicago when they're really from Wheaton. Sure you can go to the city every weekend of your whole entire life but you still don't really live there. Chicago and Wheaton are extremely different and you'll never know that until you've actually lived there. My neighbors were the sweetest people on Earth and made me feel a little better about living there. My sister had been visiting a lot more often which made me feel a lot better because I no longer resented her for making our family move. She gave me a ton of advice on how to adapt to feeling alone and how to embrace being a TCK. Every time she came over she would help me by explaining that if I hadn’t moved the many times that I have I would not be the same person or exposed to as many things.
Being “normal” and growing up in the same area for your whole life doesn’t help you grow. You have to expose yourself to new places and cultures instead of staying in your little box. Sure can people go on 2-week vacations to exotic places and be “changed” but are since I lived in a few different places I truly understand the culture instead of just admiring it. Joining new groups, making new friends and being a part of different schools taught me a lot of different social skills and the different types of people there are.
Even though I leave, them in the end, I would rather meet 100 new people instead of having the typical shrinking high school group everyone seems to have. By the end of 8th grade into 9th grade, I decided to go back to a school. I realized I would be leaving behind my babysitting job and the comfort of my home but for the first time, I was excited for something new. Being a freshman meant I would be just as new as everyone else which made me feel a lot more confident. I met so many new people at Uno Rogers Park High and learned so much about the Latino culture because the majority of the people there are 70% Hispanics. I met my best friends there and even though we didn’t know each other for our whole lives it didn’t matter.  
By the time, my parents told me we were moving back to the suburbs I hadn’t been as angry at them as I was in the past. I’ve moved 3 times in the last 3 years but now that I realize the positives and the good effect it had on my life. We all end up going through change at some point in our lives and it took me awhile to learn to live with it but, in the end, all the things I’ve viewed as negative are what has shaped me. I don't know if that's the last move I'll do before high school ends but if it isn't I'll be ready and prepared for what's to come.

Friday, March 7, 2014

A Third Culture Kid's Ramblings Pt 1



My earliest childhood memories-- sharing chai with my sister, Keri and Leila Merritt ( my childhood friends) and Mama Joyce ...dipping blueband spread bread sandwiches in the tea! Feeling the warmth not only from the Kenya sun but the warmth from the love and kindness of my Africa home.
My sister and I 

....Yes, Kumba, Cameroon .... yes that is the country Cameroon in West Africa... no Africa is a continent  -- Cameroon is the country of my birth....frustrating conversation with U.S. postal worker when filling out forms....

From the not so nice "n" word that I was called in 3rd grade when ignorant Texas kids found out I was from Kenya....to some of the curious questions ....." Did you have loins as pets?" ....." Did you live in a mud hut?" struggling to find the words to explain my world or worlds that are all mashed up!

Am I African? Cameroonian? Kenyan? American? Some where in between......  

A child's perspective is an interesting thing. Children take things at face value...I knew my simple idyllic life was just how it was. I loved concrete red floors....not so much the mosquito net that to often slummed into my face during the night and made me feel claustrophobic.  I loved passion fruit juice for breakfast, imaginary play with my sister and friends, big sisters verses little sisters, and all the adventure that would always seem to find us...... from the crazy man coming up in our yard to seeing the big girls attack by a wild hawk( Ok that was a bit scary!). Loved going to the pool almost every day after school....oh the cool water felt so good after my feet were so hot from running around with such thin soles of Bata tennis shoes.  Fairy circles, Narnia, survival games....so much fun even if we had to hide all our books so when the Merritt girls came over they would play with us and not read! 
Mom, my sister Debra,my brother Wade and me

I loved Sundays...although sometimes they were long days...the adventure of even the journey of getting to the rural church where my Dad would preach was exciting. We had a baby blue volkswagen  bug. I would often crawl back in to the 'back-back' and enjoy the journey from there. During the raining season we would get stuck in the mud but no problem several village folks would just push us out or sometimes even pick us up! When we arrived people would start to gather....us kids would run around ....beautiful green rolling hills and red dirt...goats, cows, and chickens to chase. Then we would gather for worship. Men would sit on one side and women and kids on the other...all on wooden benches under a tree or thatched roof enclosure with mud walls with splattered holes that the sun would shine through ---I often thought it looked like stars in the sky. A women in back would belt out a phrase of a song and we would all echo her with clapping and on some songs there was trilling! Then my mom would gather us kids up and we would go out side and sit on a
large mat. She would bring out her flannelgraph and tell the stories of the bible. This is my earliest memory of putting God's words in my heart. I loved the Noah story and Queen Easter.....the story of David and how God saw into his heart was my favorite. 

After church service we always went to one of the leader's home for lunch. Yummy chicken stew, greens and ugali ( corn meal mush) ...I can almost smell the charcoal infused food... which was enjoyed more because it was shared.  Then after the last pot of chai was consumed it was back in the blue bug for the long bumpy ride home....this time I would stretch out and sleep after we dropped off the few folks that squeezed in our car.

I have so many memories of my early growing up years in Kenya...but what stays with me the most is a sense of warmth, joy, adventure which all has given me the confidence to face life! And for that I am grateful!

Monday, March 25, 2013

In the Saturdays of life


 I love going to the movies. Most Friday nights are date nights and Dave usually takes me to see a movie. This is one of the things I enjoy in America because we didn’t have a movie theatre in Rwanda (I have heard one has opened since we moved).
           
            One of the things I like about movies is that there is a clear beginning, middle and end. Most movies are pretty well tied up in an hour and a half.
            Unfortunately, life is not as clearly tied up. There are lots of beginnings and endings but many times you are in the middle. I heard a sermon recently that said we like to hear the Friday---‘Jesus dying on the cross for our sins’---sermons and the Sunday----‘Jesus rising from the dead’-----sermons but we do not hear many Saturday –--- ‘the in between – waiting – what is going to happen next?'sermons! 

 Well this newsletter is just that –--- a waiting –--- what is God going to do next kind of a letter…

            This has not been the easiest season in our lives but we have tried hard not to give way to depression, anger, and bitterness, as we have allowed ourselves to grief, cry, relinquish, celebrate and be thankful for the journey that we are on. We know that God has called us back to the States for a season and we thought we had a pretty clear picture –-- we had a good “preview” of what we were going to do.

http://www.kicsrw.org/
            We thought our primary role coming back to the US was to build ROC’s network –--- tell the story of what God has and is doing in Rwanda and recruit others and raise needed resources. We have and are doing this. Dave just got back from a week at York college in Nebraska where he spoke in chapel and taught in several classes. He had several meals with folks doing just that - recruiting KICS teachers and sharing about all God has done through those of us with ROC.

            But as we were leaving Rwanda and sharing with our CCR family that we were moving to Chicago many shared about children and relatives that were living in the Greater Chicago Area and we have also sensed God calling us to shepherd the Diaspora living here in Chicago Area.
http://www.facebook.com/ChristsChurchRwanda














 What does this look like?

 Currently it looks like 3 main things:


1.     We first began following up visiting all the children and relatives of our CCR family. It was almost 15 folks but the number has grown to over 30 relatives from CCR. 





2.     We have widened our network to include those from the Great Lakes region of Africa. This includes Rwanda, Burundi, Tanzania, Uganda, Kenya and Congo. Dave and I started going to different fellowships of Kenyans, Ugandans, Tanzanians, and meeting lots of people – making new friendships and renewing old networks of our Uganda years and my Kenya childhood.

I love all the fellowship and prayers that this African Table has seen!


3.     We have been having these people in our home on Saturday nights for an African meal, fellowship, and prayer. We have also been going to their homes as well.


TCK(Third Culture Kids) both missionary and Diaspora have so much in common!  



Laughter--- a universal healer!

 Prayer-- Brings us to His feet
 in utter dependance!




But what does all this mean

We are in the Saturdays right now……. We can look back at Friday and feel the loss of our 
19+ years in East Africa – see how God used us and was so gracious with us ...We can look ahead to Sunday.... though it is not fully clear... will we be working at a local university, on staff at a local church, or involved in church planting????…. We are not sure how God is planning on resurrecting our gifts and experiences for His Glory but we know Sunday is coming!

            But today we are in the Saturdays serving whom He brings us, praying, grieving all our losses, praying, eagerly waiting, praying, learning, praying, playing with different possibilities, praying, filling out different job applications, praying, sharing about ROC and CCR, praying, recruiting for KICS, praying, helping our kids adjust and thrive in their new environment, praying, meeting lots of new people, praying, slowly starting to build community, praying

            Will you join us in our Saturday? We have lost some big contributors, we are praying for our daily bread… God has been so faithful and many of you have given so sacrificially and faithfully! Thank you for joining us in our Saturday time! We need your prayers and support!

            We will keep you updated and I assure you when our Sunday comes we will share in more detail what God is asking for us in our next chapter!

Blessings,

Jana for the Jenkins