She bounded over the dirt hill, her pink shirt clashing gloriously against a red-and-green skirt, blonde ponytail bouncing, dishes allegedly done.
I was eight years old, American, and a rule-follower to my bones. Tirza was Swiss with a hint of spirited spice, and she had just put all the dirty dishes in the oven so she could join me to build a palm frond fort.
When she told me what she’d done, with nonchalance to boot, I could hardly believe my ears, and I lost all composure.
That was the beginning of one of the most formative friendships of my childhood in Cameroon. Tirza became my best friend, but she was also instrumental in unleashing my courage.
With her at my side, I ventured into parts of Cameroon I never would have explored alone — buying beignets in broken French, taking a canoe downriver for a midmorning picnic, and saying yes to adventures that felt risky enough to be thrilling and just a little bit dangerous. She turned, “But what if I get hurt?” into “Let’s give it a go!”
She connected me to the country in ways a classroom never could have. I grew insatiably curious about Cameroon and whatever adventure lay around the corner.
I didn’t understand the lasting significance as a child, but Tirza gave me what researchers now call one of the most powerful gifts a child can receive: a friend who helps you feel known, seen, and brave enough to explore an untamed world that’s begging to be discovered.
Growing up global can be outrageously scrumptious. Cross-cultural friendships, markets bartered in, metros taken solo, languages lived rather than memorized, and faith that expands beyond a monocultural lens. There is something deeply formative that happens when a child grows up, leaving no stone unturned in our big, blue world. I want to say that clearly before I say anything else, because what follows is in service of protecting something worth protecting.
What Tirza gave me had a name, it turned out. It was one of seven Positive Childhood Experiences, or anchors that researchers now know dramatically shape a child’s long-term outcomes. They all boil down to connection. Connection in the family and connection in the community. For TCKs, even when all three PCEs related to the home are perfectly intact, the four rooted in community disappear with every move.
When I learned about these PCEs, I knew everyone touching global life needed to understand this — parents, teachers, grandparents, sending organizations — because every one of them can become an anchor for TCKs no matter where they are in the world.
In 2021, TCK Training published research that woke up the expat community. In a survey of nearly 2,000 TCKs, research director Tanya Crossman found that the international life we love and believe in also correlated with higher rates of childhood trauma. In the general population, a little over one in ten children scored in the high-risk range for Adverse Childhood Experiences in the U.S. For missionary kids, that number climbed to nearly one in five. In the business expat sector, nearly one in three.
Does that mean growing up global is bad for kids? Well no, because we also learned something else. 71% of TCKs say global life is the best way to grow up, and 90% say their childhood was overall good. Global life is good. But something does need to change.
Positive Childhood Experiences are the very factors that mitigate those risks. TCKs with all seven were 63% less likely to be diagnosed with anxiety, 86% less likely to develop PTSD, and 2.2 times more likely to be proud of their parents’ work abroad. These kids weren’t just treading water with global life. They were proud of it. The anchors work — but only when they’re attached to the boat needing them.
The stats made sense. I knew the world needed to hear it because the adult TCKs I spoke with and the families I debriefed were all saying the same thing, “This stuff makes a difference, I wish I would have known this sooner.”
The stats needed flesh. The research needed to become personal and usable. But beyond that, I wanted parents to know more than risk mitigation. They needed to know just how incredible a global childhood can be and why. Nourished is what came from that need. It’s where research, story, empathy, and actionable steps meet in a user-friendly way for parents and caregivers who are already giving their all and who need someone who understands their story and what’s getting in the way.
When I started writing Nourished, I had no idea the magnitude of the task I was taking on. I was determined that four questions needed clear answers for each PCE, and anything short of that depth would fall short. For each one we needed to know: Why does it matter? What happens in adulthood for kids who don’t get it? What unique challenges do parents abroad face in providing it? And how do we actually provide it?
The rigorous research alone took an immense amount of time, and the pages kept filling up. I quickly realized that the faith-based integrations I cared deeply about were not going to be done justice if I tried to cram them into this book, so I developed a companion Biblical Study Guide, specifically for faith-based families.
Nourished isn’t a magic bullet for raising a family overseas. But it does provide language for why your gut might feel like something needs to change—and exactly what pivots might help. Or why your child does so well in one place and not in another. Or why two children growing up in the same home may have such different experiences and how to better support the gaps.
What I keep hearing from readers is, “I feel seen” and “This isn’t just for TCKs. All kids need this.” Which takes me back to something I wrote on page 54:
The public high school teacher in me wants to shout from the mountaintops that PCEs are crucial for all children. Whether you work with TCKs or monocultural kids, you’re changing outcomes for the kids in your care. But TCKs face unique vulnerabilities that make supportive relationships even more critical. We’re not just trying to avoid adverse outcomes. We want to actively unleash the beautiful potential that comes from growing up global.
At nineteen, newly repatriated from my childhood in Cameroon, I walked across a Midwest university campus drowning in a sea of people who looked exactly like me, but had no idea who I was. I started making choices that confused even me. I hadn’t lost my faith. I hadn’t turned into someone unrecognizable for no reason. I had simply lost too many anchors. And without them, even the most resilient, faith-filled child may drift in the storm.
I know now why having Tirza was a much bigger part of God’s plan for childhood than someone to build forts with. So was our English teacher, Ms. Baker, who made cookies for us after soccer practice, the annual missionary game nights, and the jungle that left its untamable imprint on my heart. These were the parts of belonging to a global village that God meant to work together for my good and His glory. TCKs feel it deeply when any of these pieces are missing. And when they’re present, so many TCKs grow to develop the exact strengths we crave to see in the world.
In your world right now, there is a TCK with the potential for exactly what Tirza gave me — a friendship that flings the door open to exploration, a knowledge that the world is huge and also within reach, and a global childhood that makes them ferociously alive. And friendship is only one of seven key anchors. Nourished is your guide to all of them, and to building the kind of village that makes a global childhood wildly, outrageously worth it.
Access Nourished here.
Access the companion Biblical study guide here.
