Neurodiversity in the World of TCKs

You might be wondering why addressing neurodivergence in the context of ministry is an important endeavor. I get it — I’ve wondered too! The best answer I can offer is this: because neurodivergent children and adults live among us. Because they are cherished by God and worthy of our investment of time and effort. And because ignorance is not bliss — it can fracture God’s Kingdom with misunderstandings, conflict, and the withholding of empathy.

If only because it grows us into loving better and more thoughtfully, I believe that learning more about the humans around us is a spiritual practice and God-given privilege. 

NEURODIVERSITY IN THE WORLD OF TCKs

There is a particular kind of exhaustion many globally mobile families experience. The kind that feels linked—sometimes in obscure ways—to that third airport security line, that calendar-busting conference, that language-learning plateau, that brutal goodbye to friends we may not see again, that moment your child dissolves into tears because the cereal tastes different in this country, or that weather pattern that sucks the life out of everyday activities.

In the cross-cultural community, we tend to tell ourselves that it’s transition stress. Culture shock. Jet lag. Grief. And often, it is—or a combination of them all.

But there can also be something more complex happening beneath the surface. Something quieter, more deeply wired into the way a child experiences the world—or, in the case of MKs, multiple worlds.

What is neurodivergence?

In recent years, conversations around neurodiversity have become far more common. Current estimates suggest that between 15% and 20% of the population may be neurodivergent, so it’s no wonder that efforts to deepen our understanding are expanding.

At its simplest, neurodivergence means that a brain functions differently from what is considered usual or “typical.” Neurodiversity embraces the idea that everybody’s brain works uniquely and that neurodivergence is a normal variation.

ADHD, autism, OCD, dyslexia, sensory processing differences, dyscalculia, traumatic brain injury, and other neurological differences can all fall under this broad umbrella. Neurodivergence can show up in countless ways—from sensory overwhelm and learning differences to intense creativity, diminished executive function, or information processing that differs from that of brains considered more “typical.”

The Strengths of Neurodivergence

Though neurological differences were formerly viewed simply as deficits, researchers and clinicians now understand neurodivergence as part of the natural variation of human brains—producing unique strengths as well as unique challenges.

It’s important to remember that these same TCKs wrestling with layers of difference often possess extraordinary gifts.

In her article At the Intersection: Navigating Neurodivergence and Third Culture Kids, Dr. Kristen Williamson highlights the creativity, innovation, empathy, deep focus, and problem-solving abilities that frequently accompany neurodivergence. The child who notices details everyone else misses. The teenager who learns languages through patterns and rhythms. The young adult whose emotional sensitivity allows them to connect deeply across cultures.

Sometimes the very wiring that makes life more complicated also allows a child to experience beauty, excel academically, analyze complex data, and respond with empathy more naturally than the rest of us do.

The Relief of Diagnosis

Of the adult TCKs interviewed for this article and its accompanying video, most weren’t diagnosed until adulthood. Sometimes diagnosis came after burnout. After reentry. After struggles in higher education. Or after years of wondering why ordinary life seemed to require extraordinary effort.

For many neurodivergent people and their families, diagnosis itself is not the devastating moment they feared. Often, it brings relief—because there is finally language for their strengths and challenges. There is an explanation for why transitions feel catastrophic rather than merely difficult. Why noise feels physically painful. Why social interaction requires marathon-level energy. Why someone can appear perfectly composed in public and completely unravel at home.

Neurodivergence in Cross-Cultural Spaces

For Third Culture Kids, neurodivergence can create a particularly layered experience because so much of TCK life already requires constant adaptation. New schools. New languages. New social rules. New expectations. New relationships. New losses.

Indian writer and advocate Nanyadiri, who is autistic and has ADHD (AuDHD), describes the autistic TCK life as “a difference inside a difference.” The phrase captures something globally mobile families recognize in their children with neurodivergence: some are not merely learning to adapt across cultures; they are trying to navigate a world that may already have been unpredictable, confusing, or painfully loud—and now it is exponentially more overwhelming.

Transition is one of the greatest challenges for neurodivergent TCKs. Airports. Temporary housing. Shifting routines. New foods. Unfamiliar smells. Different classroom expectations. New cultural customs. All the unpredictability that globally mobile families eventually normalize can feel deeply dysregulating.

For some children, the adventure of it all feels exhilarating. But for others, it might feel more like being forced to stand in the chaos of Times Square at rush hour—with strangers yelling questions, street vendors selling unfamiliar things, friends pushing new foods at their faces, and a thunderous storm assailing them with rain and wind—all while realizing that everything familiar (people, places, routines, their own bed) is no longer within reach.

Now imagine trying to manage that 24/7—without protective filters, escape routes, or loved ones who understand how exhausting it is.

The Tangled Strands of TCKness and Neurodivergence

The challenges don’t end with transition. For those who love TCKs with autism, OCD, ADHD, and other forms of neurodivergence, distinguishing brain differences from cross-cultural traits can be difficult.

The impact of neurodivergence, trauma, and chronic stress can sometimes look remarkably similar. Frequent moves, unresolved grief, political instability, educational disruption, repeated upheaval, and abuse can all affect a child’s nervous system. Meanwhile, globally mobile life itself already looks unconventional.

A child who struggles socially may be assumed to be adjusting to a new culture. A child overwhelmed in crowds may be labeled sensitive. Executive-functioning difficulties may be blamed on transition stress rather than recognized as part of ADHD or autism.

Jenilee Goodwin, a fellow A Life Overseas writer, notes in How to Notice Neurodiversity in Third Culture Kids that neurodivergent TCKs often slip under the radar for precisely this reason. Sometimes what we’re seeing really is TCK struggle. Sometimes it is an expression of an underlying brain difference. Quite frequently, it is a combination of both.

This is why untangling the strands of TCKness and neurodivergence is so complicated. It takes time, learning, wisdom, and often an investment of effort and funds in professional evaluation. Understanding the “why” behind a child’s behavior is essential to providing support that addresses their actual needs rather than applying strategies that may exacerbate their struggles.

Knowing more can change the entire conversation from frustration to compassion—and then to appropriate action.

The Realities of Masking

Another reason neurodivergence gets missed in cross-cultural communities is that so many children become exceptionally good at masking. Especially TCKs. Especially bright, capable, adaptable children who are praised for maturity and flexibility.

Girls, in particular, are often missed because their struggles don’t match traditional stereotypes of neurodivergence. Rather than appearing disruptive or hyperactive, many become experts at people-pleasing, perfectionism, emotional caretaking, or quiet overachievement. They may look socially successful while privately rehearsing conversations, analyzing interactions, and becoming chronically exhausted from trying to make coping appear effortless.

In missionary and ministry environments, children who mask well may be celebrated as adaptable, mature, helpful, and selfless while carrying extraordinary levels of internal stress.

And boys can mask too—especially thoughtful, sensitive boys who learn early that emotional overwhelm or social confusion feels unsafe to reveal. But because many people still picture neurodivergence primarily as a loud little boy bouncing off classroom walls, quieter presentations are frequently overlooked altogether.  

So many neurodivergent TCKs are working tirelessly behind the scenes to appear “fine.” They study social expectations. They rehearse conversations. They observe peers and imitate what seems socially acceptable. They hold themselves together all day and then collapse emotionally once they reach home.

Psychologist Laura Mannucci captures this beautifully in Belonging in Translation: Autism, ADHD, and the Hidden Labor of Adapting Across Cultures: “When you have learned to mirror others to belong, the authentic self becomes hard to locate.”

The immense mental effort required to constantly decode cultural expectations while also navigating neurodivergence becomes, as Mannucci describes it, “an ongoing negotiation between worlds.” For many TCKs, that hidden hypervigilance becomes a way of life—and an exhausting drain on their energy.

What Neurodivergent TCKs Need from All of Us

According to the TCKs I interviewed, one of the gentlest shifts parents can make is moving from disciplining difference to approaching it with curiosity. Instead of asking, “Why is my child overreacting?” ask, “What might this situation feel like inside my child’s nervous system? What could be the reason for that?” Instead of rewarding the masking that allows children to appear more “typical,” invest time, effort, and funding into the kind of research and testing that might uncover liberating answers.

And then extend love—because there are far too many neurodivergent TCKs who believe their brain difference is failure, weakness, or even sin. We as a community need to speak—and be—the antidote to those destructive lies.

So what can we actually do?

Throughout ministry life, small changes can foster stability and safety: limiting social commitments, building in respite, creating quiet spaces and predictable routines, reducing toxic stress where possible, educating siblings and community members, and supporting activities that allow for regulation and expression—art, movement, writing, creating, organizing, inventing, or analyzing.

Even adjusting family menus to accommodate intolerable textures and tastes can matter. For some autistic children, this isn’t simply a food preference; it is a visceral inability to get past the texture or taste.

Jenilee Goodwin encourages families in transition to build predictability wherever possible: visual schedules, familiar foods, comfort objects, advance warning before changes, recovery time after overstimulation, and small rituals carried from country to country.

These things may sound insignificant to people who function more typically, but to a neurodivergent child, they can feel like safety in the swirling center of threatening chaos.

Parents may also need to reevaluate expectations around pace and productivity. Many neurodivergent TCKs can technically endure crowded schedules, rapid travel, stimulating ministry environments, and constant social interaction—while paying an invisible emotional cost.

A child may be coping remarkably well on the outside while quietly unraveling internally. 

But there’s a huge difference between surviving and flourishing.

The Beauty in the Difference

Goodwin’s articles emphasize the importance of helping children understand their own brains with dignity and compassion. Neurodivergent children need language that frames their differences not as personal failures, but as part of their unique wiring. Dr. Williamson argues that when neurodivergent TCKs receive understanding and support, many develop exceptional resilience, intercultural awareness, empathy, and creativity.

When I speak with adult TCKs who received a diagnosis about what they wish someone had told them sooner, they point to the crucial importance of parents and loved ones affirming who they are—and rejecting the lies the world and their own inner voice might inflict on them.

Perhaps one of the most hopeful truths emerging from these conversations is that many neurodivergent TCK adults—with affirmation, care, support, and therapy—eventually come to see their differences not merely as obstacles, but as part of the very wiring that shaped their strengths. The sensitivity that once led to overwhelm becomes empathy. Hyper-awareness becomes emotional intelligence. The lifelong practice of observing cultures and decoding people becomes insight and wisdom.

The traits that complicated childhood can become part of what allows these adults to move through the world with unusual compassion, creativity, and depth.

Not despite their wiring—because of it.

And perhaps that is the invitation here—not to pathologize difference, nor to romanticize struggle, but to notice children more carefully. To listen more curiously. To create environments where they do not have to spend their lives pretending to be less sensitive, less intense, less observant, or less themselves in order to belong.

Because some of the children who experience the world most deeply may also be the ones most capable of helping the rest of us see it more clearly.

They are not broken.

They are not burdens.

They are unique, precious, created by God, and so very loved by Him.

 

Further learning:

— This version of the article does not include the profound and fascinating quotes collected from eleven neurodivergent adult TCKs. You can find the full article here.

— My entire three-part series on TCKs and Neurodiversity (including an interview with Jenilee Goodwin, an extended version of this article, and a videoed collection of personal stories from adult TCKs) is here.  

— Additional reading:

Belonging in Translation — Laura Mannucci
Different, Not Less — Chloé Hayden
Divergent Mind: Thriving in a World That Wasn’t Designed for You — Jenara Nerenberg
Driven to Distraction — Hallowell & Ratey
Embracing the Autism Spectrum — Dr. Stephanie Holmes
Lost in Translation: The Social Language Theory of Neurodivergence — Janae Elisabeth
Neurodiversity for Dummies — John Marble, Khushboo Chabria, and Ranga Jayaraman
Uniquely Human — Barry Prizant
Uniquely Us — Dr. Stephanie Holmes
Unmasking Autism — Devon Price

The Power of Art Processing for TCKs

by Megan C. Norton-Newbanks

I grew up attending international schools: one in South Africa, one in South Korea, two in Germany, one in Japan, and one in Israel. As a U.S. Foreign Service family, we moved to another country every two to three years, and one school elective I always looked forward to was art class. 

Art classes were a safe space for me, and I loved learning about all the techniques and textures I could discover with different mediums. In my final year of high school, I took AP Art, and my capstone theme was “the journey we take.” I explored this theme through the lens of growing up as a Third Culture Kid. I crafted molds of shoes from clay and self-portraits from torn magazine tones. I used recycled materials to showcase movement and change. Most of these creations remain in my parents’ house and remind me of how I’ve continued to create in different ways.

What I have found in working with TCKs across the world is that we gravitate to art to articulate our stories. Various art forms, from visual renderings to photography to poetry, often capture our stories in ways that essays or books cannot fully capture because we are more focused on the process rather than the outcome. Through drawing, painting, and other forms of making, internal experiences become visible and tangible, offering a way to process change and better understand one’s story.

Some of my favorite processing with TCKs is done through inquiry-based art. Instead of asking them to verbalize or write out the cultural influences that have shaped their identity, I provide a blank piece of paper or other art medium where they can express their “many selves.” It can be helpful to provide simple prompts such as, “What might belonging look like as a place?” or “How does home feel?”

In my own experience, engaging with art has provided a way to revisit moments of transition and identity that I did not fully understand at the time. There were feelings I could not name as a child, such as grief over leaving, confusion about belonging, and the tension of holding multiple cultural worlds, and yet when I began to create, those experiences found expression. Understanding often came through the process, not before it. It became less about creating something to show and more about creating in order to discover. 

Sometimes there can be resistance to engaging with art processing. I often hear, “I can’t even draw a stick figure” or “I’m not an artist.” But art expression and processing is more about curiosity than skill. There is no need to share or explain the outcome unless you want to. At the same time, sometimes it can be helpful to reflect afterward with a few gentle questions such as: What stands out to me? What surprised me? What might this be saying about my experience?

There is something universal about art that transcends culture while still honoring individual expression. Jemina Watstein, an art educator, explains in The Belonging Project podcast episode, “How Creative Kids Navigate Life Between Cultures,” that children across the world move through similar stages of artistic development, yet their environments shape how they create and what they express. For globally mobile individuals, this often results in a rich blend of influences that reflect their unique journeys. Activities like blending patterns, symbols, or artistic styles from different cultures can help make this diversity visible.

Within families, art processing can encourage meaningful connection. Simple creative practices, such as collaboratively creating a shared artwork that reflects each person’s experience, can help children process transitions, build emotional awareness, and maintain a sense of belonging even in the midst of change. In these spaces, art becomes more than expression. It becomes a bridge between stories, identities, and relationships.

When I met the very talented artist Simona Wiig, a fellow TCK, we connected over our creative practices. She has done research and held art exhibitions on the interrelationships between belonging, identity, and a multicultural upbringing. Together, we have offered workshops to TCKs to express their stories through various art mediums. We love hearing about how multimedia art inspires TCKs to share their feelings of home and belonging.

Last year, Simona and I released the book A Work of Heart, a collection of over seventy artistic expressions from Third Culture Kids, Cross Cultural Kids, and global nomads. Each piece is paired with personal reflection, forming a powerful mosaic of identities and memories. 

Several families report using this book as a debriefing tool with TCKs and family members by inviting thoughtful reflection in considering questions like:

  • Which art piece resonates with my own story?
  • What memories or personal experiences do these art pieces bring to mind?
  • In what ways might this content be inviting me to view my story differently?

The book ultimately serves as an invitation to think about your story differently: through art. You do not need to be an artist to begin. A simple sketchbook, a favorite pen, or a small creative practice can become a steady companion wherever you are in the world. In the act of making, you find space to process, to connect, and to belong.

Simona and I are already seeking contributions to Volume 2. Please consider submitting your piece here.

~~~~~~~

Megan C. Norton-Newbanks, MA, MS, is an author, CCK/TCK consultant, intercultural trainer, podcaster, and writer. Megan grew up in six countries and has since lived in four more as an ATCK, in addition to six U.S. states. Her book, Belonging Beyond Borders: How Adult Third Culture Kids Can Cultivate a Sense of Belonging, equips and empowers readers to recognize their cultural competencies and apply them in various contexts. Megan also spearheaded the books Letters Now Sent: A Collection of Letters from the Globally Mobile and A Work of Heart: A Collection of Artwork from Multicultural Individuals. In 2022, she launched Beyond Borders Publishing, a platform committed to amplifying cross-cultural voices and stories.

The Challenges of MK Re-entry

by Elina Placentino

“Look, it’s snowing!” I cried. 

“That’s not snow, it’s sleet.”

The reply from the front seat of our family car was enough to dampen my enthusiasm. I was eight, and we had just moved back to Finland for the first time. And although I didn’t realise it at the time, that was when I discovered that I was a foreigner in my parents’ home country. Although my passport was Finnish, my perspective on the world around me was not.

For my parents it was a return to something familiar, but not for me. For me it meant moving to a new world where winters were white, children were independent, and the general culture was reserved.

Unsurprisingly, the move took a toll on me. It played out in various ways, including causing anxiety and disruption in sleep patterns. In fact, one night my parents caught me almost walking out of the house in my sleep!                              

Re-entry is a process that may look simple on paper, but there are multiple issues that complicate it. If a child has spent a lengthy period of time abroad and has no memories of living in the passport country, the stress of transition can be considerable. It can further be heightened by the degree of difference between the countries in question, due to very practical changes connected to climate, food, language, and cultural norms.

Re-entry is also a demanding process for missionary kids, since they are commonly expected to adjust to their passport country, to appreciate it, and to sense a heart connection to it. After all, they often grow up hearing their parents speak of their passport country with affection and even nostalgia. Thus, when returning to their country of origin, parents may experience a sense of delight and even relief, whereas a child is likely to experience enormous stress and even dread.

And there is plenty to be stressed about. Nothing is familiar. There is the question of schooling, with its new subjects, systems, and requirements. There is the issue of friendships, with a very real risk of becoming a social misfit or a social chameleon (ready to change one’s behaviour in a desperate effort just to fit in). What was once seen as perfectly normal and polite behaviour (e.g., avoiding looking an adult in the eyes) is sometimes seen as bizarre. 

And, as I realised in my early adulthood, unlearning deeply engrained cultural reflexes is a time-consuming process, particularly for children who return to their passport country in their teens. It requires a high degree of self-awareness that can cause teens to live with constant self-evaluation and criticism, further contributing to heightened stress levels.

Missionary kids returning to their passport country frequently feel like foreigners while not looking physically different. This creates its own set of difficulties, as people around them expect culturally appropriate behaviour and fluent language from them. Thus there is simply less margin for mistakes.

And yet, no matter how much missionary kids try to adjust, it is unlikely that they will fit into their passport country after spending extensive time abroad. Accepting this may be challenging, particularly for parents or relatives — and these experiences can even create conflicts within the family.

These conflicts can, in turn, be further aggravated if missionary kids begin to drift away from their faith. After all, missionary kids returning to their passport country are often challenged by the different worldviews that they face around them.

This is where parents need to be aware of their children’s needs and strive to meet them ahead of time, where possible. Although missionary kids need to have space to ask questions and explore different worldviews, they also need biblically solid support, pointers, and encouragement in the process.

In an attempt to help missionary kids navigate the great questions in life, I recently published a lighthearted romcom about a seventeen-year-old missionary kid returning to her mother’s country, Finland. The Diary of…Who Am I Again? explores re-entry, apologetics, and questions of identity with humour. My hope is that it will provide young people with pointers for their own journey — and someone to laugh with. For, as most of us know, there is a good deal to laugh at in the blunders that missionary kids experience! 

Re-entry guarantees a time of turmoil, and our children need to know that they are not alone, that there is space for their emotions, and that there are answers to their questions. 

~~~~~~~~

Elina Placentino is an adult missionary kid, author, and homeschooling mother. She creates Christian worldview content for children and teens. In her free time, she enjoys being outdoors or snuggling up in an armchair with a book and a cup of tea. Her book, The Diary of…Who Am I Again? is now available on Amazon.

TCKs and the Power of Presence

by Brandon Jones

I’m at a theatre in Brazil with my daughter, Monica, who is just a few months away from finishing high school here in Brazil and moving away to start college in the United States, a country that does not really feel like her home. But, then again, neither does Brazil. At least all the way.

Our afternoon movie was Rental Family, which features a man named Philip who is an American actor that has spent the last seven years in Japan. During that time he’s picked up enough Japanese to get by, booked some gigs, and settled into an apartment from where he can watch so many neighbors. But all the time he’s alone.

For my daughter and me, this movie was quite the experience as we are in our eighth year in Brazil, have picked up enough Portuguese to get by, have settled into an apartment from which we can watch so many neighbors, along with their dogs. But we’re also kind of alone.

In the movie Philip often has conversations that mix English and Japanese as he fits in quite often in spaces and places, but yet he also always stands out. The cross-cultural stuff, however, is in the background of the movie. What stood out more to me was the theme of presence and how as humans we were created to be in the presence of others and gift those others with our own presence. There’s power in our presence, and the business Philip begins to work for, the rent-a-family business, cashes in on this power for better or for worse.

In some ways Philip is perfect for the part. Of course, he’s American, so he’s asked to fit western roles. For seven years he has also been trying to figure out how to be present in another culture that he will never fully understand. But above and beyond every culture is the same, universal human nature that creates it. And above and beyond us humans is the God who created us for presence, no matter how many apartment buildings or norms exist to keep us compartmentalized and apart from one another.

As the movie goes on this theme of presence collides with the question of honesty. Is physical presence all that powerful when it’s based on an act or a lie? Yes and no. The movie does well in letting us see Philip’s journey, introducing us to fascinating characters, and at the end letting us sit with the ambivalence of how presence, honesty, and relationships all intertwine, whether that be in Japan or any other part of the world. 

Sitting there with my daughter, I realized the movie wasn’t just telling a story about Japan or rented relationships, but was gently pressing on something deeper within me.

Rental Family is not a Christian movie, but its characters and themes reinforce the Christian doctrine of the Incarnation. There is power in God’s presence with us. And that power would certainly be diminished were it based on some lie, were some of those ancient heresies true after all that Jesus wasn’t really God and really one of us, but some imposter merely playing a role—our Rental Savior.

As cross-cultural missionaries our whole family has dealt with feeling like imposters from time to time. Our passports say one country, and our Portuguese accents confirm it, but our hearts are torn. We may never truly feel what a Brazilian feels, but we’ve lived here long enough to talk like they talk and even think like they think às vezes (sometimes). And while this is true for my wife Marci and me, it’s even more true for Monica and her little sister Olivia, who have spent a majority of their developmental years in Brazil.

Monica is present in this humid, densely populated place, and its emotive people have shaped who she is. But she’ll never be Brazilian, even if her Portuguese accent is better than mine. Yet as she preps to “return” to the States, she doesn’t feel all that American either. Sure, she’ll look and sound the part, but the contours of her character have been permanently pressed by Brazil. 

There’s a phrase for kids like Monica and Olivia: Third Culture Kids (TCKs). In a way they can “mostly belong“ in more than one culture, while not fully belonging in any of them. And so they are really their own third culture that is a mix of the two. Their mom was also a TCK from Kenya whose heart, in her own words, “always beats to the rhythm of an African drum.”

Philip, the movie character, and I are different from them. We grew up in just one culture and were formed by it before moving abroad. He’s from Minnesota, and I’m from Kansas City. Yet, culture has its way of seeping in through the cracks, so even though guys like us take on things from our new culture, it’s different than being formed by it — we can keep things more compartmentalized. 

Toward the end of the movie Philip opens up about his regret in not going back to America for his father’s funeral. He never says why he didn’t go, even after showing up to the airport with his ticket in hand. There’s complexity to such things. His relationship with his father was not great. But there’s also ambivalence about “going home” for guys like Philip and me. There’s familiarity there, sure. But there’s also the heartache of familiar strangeness (or is it strange familiarity?) as well as the difficulty of yet another goodbye. 

As our family looks ahead to prepping Monica and even Olivia for their re-entries to the States, a temptation is to let the laments of future losses pile up and rob us of our full presence here in Brazil. We must guard against it. We must also guard against giving our daughters the message that the culture they are returning to is worse than Brazil or just plain wrong. As we learned before coming to Brazil: cultures are neither right nor wrong, just different. 

Marci and I have hopes and prayers for our daughters as they re-enter that they can come to peace with “mostly belonging” while they are in the States, and, looking back to Brazil, will see their unique journey as a bonus instead of a detriment. 

Monica was recently asked to reflect on her experience as a TCK, including its pros and cons and said this:

Being a TCK is very difficult. No matter where I am, I am missing something from my other world. No matter how much I have in Brazil, I still miss my family in the US, and I still know that I will always be a foreigner in Brazil. I have dealt with jealousy of people who stay in the same place their whole life, but I moved past that, as I would never give up my life for the world. 

Being bilingual is definitely one of my favorite things about being an MK [missionaries’ kid], as I have unlocked a new way of expressing myself. I have also learned valuable lessons about how to lose, grieve, grow, and thrive. I find my experiences of learning how to create my belonging in unfamiliar places very useful. I also like the uniqueness of my story.

Even though people who aren’t TCKs can’t understand me, I still value my unique experiences. To have your own third culture that’s a mix of both worlds is priceless. To mix languages and cultural norms from two distinct places is fun, and it’s a part of me. Looking back at all the hardships, I find what I’ve gained to be more than what I’ve lost.

As our family continues to split further into two hemispheres, the power of physical presence will remain a sore spot in my soul. Like Monica, I too feel that pull of longing to be with family in the States and treasuring my time there. But, at the same time, my home is not there. It’s here in Brazil. And it’s familiarly strange for me to be here, even after seven years. And that’s okay.

Hebrews has long been my favorite biblical book, and even more so since I moved to Brazil. Although there aren’t a lot of people who can understand my daughter or me, Jesus can. And Jesus is enough. I’m thankful for His presence. It’s beyond powerful. And it’s no act or lie. The family of God is not for rent.

~~~~~~~

Brandon Jones grew up in Kansas City, married a missionaries’ kid from Kenya, and with her has raised three children both off and on the mission field. He served as a professor and pastor in the States for several years before becoming an international missionary in Brazil in 2018.

TCKs and the Balancing Act of Achievement

On a Wednesday afternoon we drove into the campsite and settled on a hill overlooking a beautiful river in central Taiwan. The slopes were covered with greenery — trees, bamboo, flowers — and various birdcalls echoed around us. 

Three buses disgorged nearly a hundred grade 12 students from three campuses around the island. I was the guest speaker for their Senior Retreat — a time to consider the big upcoming transition as they prepared to complete high school and (in most cases) begin military service and/or leave the country for university studies.

In my sessions, we discussed practical preparations before leaving, how to process our emotions on either side of the Big Change, even how different it can be to build relationships (and date!) in a new culture. There was one topic which held their attention more than any other. So much eye contact, intensity, and notetaking. And it was first thing on Friday morning, when many of them were tired!

The topic? Failure.

“I Have to be Perfect”

Over the past twenty years of working with TCKs, this topic has come up repeatedly. Fear of failure showed up even among those with parents and teachers who were very loving and supportive, who did not put high expectations on them. 

In conversation and interviews TCKs said, “I have to be perfect!” I would ask them, “Who told you that?” 

In most cases, what followed was several moments of silence, perhaps a cocked head, as they reached through memory and often responded, “Actually, I can’t remember anyone saying that exactly”

In some cases there was a verbally expressed expectation for their behaviour. People knew them, knew their parents, knew about their parents’ work. The way they acted in public reflected on others. It mattered.

In my book Misunderstood I described it this way:

Many TCKs I interviewed felt they had no space to fail, internalising a pressure to live up to the standards of their parents’ occupations. Foreign service and MKs were most likely to make these comments; several had been told outright, often in a serious sit-down talk, that their actions had repercussions for others — reflecting negatively or positively on their parents, their country, or even their God.

Many TCKs, whether this is said directly to them or not, carry a weight of responsibility to be good representatives of their parents’ cause. 

Many MKs feel this both while living abroad, among a people their family desires to witness to, and while visiting their passport country, as they are presented to sponsoring churches — and feel the pressure to perform for the people who pay for their family’s way of life.

In TCK Training’s 2024 survey of over 1,000 missionary kids,

  • 54% of missionary kids felt “pressure to be perfect” while living abroad
  • 69% of missionary kids felt “pressure to perform” while visiting their passport country

Warped Sense of Normal

The other big issue is that most TCKs grow up with a warped sense of normal. That is, they compare themselves to elite achievement — then decide they must be failing, or at least falling behind. 

80% of MKs grew up with at least one parent who held an advanced degree. Compare that to how many adults in the world hold any degree at all! (That’s about 20-30% in the Western world.)

About 95% of TCKs take at least some university classes. The highest numbers I could find worldwide for university entrance were in the USA, pre-covid, where 60% of high school graduates did at least some university study. And that’s just those who completed high school. It doesn’t count those who previously dropped out.

I’ve been to many international school graduations, and typically about one third of students have a cord/sash or other indicator to publicly display that they attained a straight A average. 

None of this is ‘normal’ anywhere in the world. But this is the ‘normal’ our MKs grow up with. This is the set of expectations they assume they must live up to. When they excel, they see that as expected — not something to celebrate.

Instead of celebrating their successes, many TCKs instead breathe a sigh of relief. They didn’t fail. This time. But soon enough, there’s another potential future failure to fear. 

Lessons about Failure

All this explains why, on that warm pre-storm morning in central Taiwan, nearly one hundred students watched me intently as I began to explain that the way so many of them felt inside — that pressure to excel, that fear of failure — was a common experience. That it was not a personal failing. And most important, that there was a way through it.

I shared two important lessons with them.

1) Failure is a stepping stone to success.

Ask anyone who has succeeded in their field, and they’ll tell you about the litany of failures on the way to their eventual success. No one gets it right the first time. And even if they did, that’s not how you learn. We learn far more from failure than we do from success.

Perhaps this seems obvious to you. But I guarantee, for most young TCKs this concept is a revelation!

2) Failure shows you who cares.

So many TCKs spend their lives trying to be good enough, trying to live up to something, with the unspoken belief that when they get it wrong, relationship will be negatively impacted.

And so I tell them. It is when we fail, when we get things wrong, when we show our human weakness — those are the times we see the depth of genuine relationship in our lives. That’s when we see who loves us for who we are, not for our performance. 

How Can Adults Help?

TCKs need to hear us talk about our mistakes, our failures, and our weaknesses. They need to know that we don’t have it all together — and that we never did.

They need models of getting it wrong, picking yourself up and trying again, and learning through the process. They need to know that they are loved and cared for even when everything goes wrong. We can’t assume they know these things. We need to say it out loud. 

We need to say, “You are more important to me than your grades.” 

We need to say, “I’ve failed so many times. It’s hard, but I got through it.”

We need to say, “I’m not perfect, and I don’t expect you to be.”

Many of the solutions I propose in this article seem simple, especially considering the magnitude of the problem. But that’s the point! There are lots of little things we can do that make a big difference for the TCKs in our lives. And now that we know how much these things matter, it’s time to start being intentional about doing them.

Do Your Kids Like It?

by Abi Little

Here is a tricky question to answer: ‘Do your kids like living in Cambodia?’

I was asked this question so many times last year when we were in the UK. It is such an important question but not one that is easy to answer.

It’s hard to explain the nature of moving your kids to another nation yet knowing they are likely to go back to nation number one eventually. Once you choose one transition, you inevitably choose many more. Domino effect.

The first thing I always say is that both of our kids would answer this question differently. The youngest came here when she had just turned five. Many of the ways she analyses and interacts with the world is very Cambodian in style. She knows to be respectful of older people, but she plays out with the local kids every day, speaking pigeon Khmer whilst using anything they can find to create elaborate and messy games. She has an accent which isn’t European or Asian but isn’t British either. 

And when we were in the UK, we joked that she was like a foreigner in a new land. She made comments like ‘I didn’t know there were fat brown cows in England’ and ‘Superdrug? What on earth do they sell in there? Drugs?’ My favourite statement was: ‘I don’t like trains. I always feel they are going to go without me. The tuk tuks wait for us!’

Does our youngest daughter like Cambodia? Yes, very much because she was young enough when we arrived to adjust quickly. Does she like England? Yes, very much so. But when we visit, we only do nice things. What would she make of ‘real’ life?’ What will she feel when she eventually returns? She will probably find it a huge adjustment. As will we.

How about our older daughter? She had just turned eight when we arrived and was very much attached to her life in the UK. She loved her school and her friends, our church, and, of course, family. She was always able to maturely articulate the loss she felt when we moved. But still, she got on with life in Phnom Penh. She made beautiful friends, but then those friends left. (People come and go so often here.) Then we moved again. I know I felt huge amounts of guilt for this. But she has grown into such a dynamic, funny, hardworking, kind and interesting human. 

About eighteen months ago, she told me she finally felt that God had a purpose for her in Cambodia too, not just for us, and that she was glad we had come here. 

She has beautiful friends, she loves church, and she has had amazing opportunities. But her heart is still divided. However, even at almost fourteen years old she can now, not only articulate well what she has lost, but can also recognise all that she has gained. 

Our children are and will always be TCKs. Third Culture Kids. They no longer inhabit their first culture, and they don’t entirely own their second one. They will always be shaped by both and identify in different ways with each. That’s not easy. 

Children face change even if they stay in one place. But we recognise that the change we effectively caused them to go through was huge and will impact their futures. For the good, yes, and also for the heartache that will inevitably come—for there will be loss again. That is hard to live with as a parent. But that doesn’t mean we made the wrong decision. It’s way more complex than that. 

My husband Sam and I agreed we would always be understanding, kind, and loving when they expressed their feelings about this move or the next. That their feelings (even if they felt/feel upset with us) are fair and valid. 

So, do our children like Cambodia? Yes, very much. Is it easy to be a TCK? No, it has its challenges. Are there rewards? Absolutely! 

But is it easy to handle change? For most, no. But aren’t there amazing and exciting and wonderful things to be learned when we go on an adventure such as this? To be surrounded by people who teach us new ways, new perspectives, new values? What a blessing. 

Our kids are TCKs. Our kids are our kids (and in many ways they are like us). Our kids are robust because of their varied and unusual experiences. And our prayer is that God will use it all for good. 

Do our children like Cambodia? Yes! Do they like England? Yes! Are they glad they are TCKs? Yes and no. What does this make us as parents? Well, as Christian parents we trust that God has a plan for their lives and He will guide their paths, and we hope to help with that. 

So do our kids like Cambodia? Yes! And . . .

~~~~~~~

Abi and her husband, originally from the UK, have lived in Siem Reap, Cambodia, with their two children for six years. Three years ago, they founded Grace Church Siem Reap, a bilingual, multicultural church. Abi also established Devoted to Cambodia two years ago, a charity offering free English lessons to children living near the provincial dump. By improving their English, students gain access to safer, better-paid jobs in Siem Reap’s tourism industry, helping families break the cycle of poverty (See Littles in Cambodia on Facebook).   

Finally, Proof That Kids Can Thrive While Growing Up Overseas

Last month marked twenty years since I started working with TCKs and globally mobile families. I have always believed that international life is a great experience and that we all gain so much from it — no matter how young (or old) we are.

Yet through the years I have met a lot of young people who experienced a lot of pain during and following their international years. I have spent a lot of time listening to them and their stories, too. I joined TCK Training because I believe so much in the mission of preventive care: that there are practical things we can do to help families thrive through international transitions. 

Now, we have the research to prove it.

Preventive Care That Works

The field of preventive science is relatively new. While research into Adverse Childhood Experiences (ACEs) has been going on for nearly 30 years, research into Positive Childhood Experiences (PCEs) isn’t even 10 years old.

Last year, TCK Training surveyed over 1,600 Adult TCKs about their childhood experiences — both the hard things and the resilience-building factors. In September, we released findings on how both ACEs and PCEs impact long-term wellness for TCKs. The biggest takeaway was that 5-7 PCEs dramatically improve long-term outcomes for TCKs, whether or not they experienced childhood trauma.

There are several different studies measuring different protective factors. We modeled our research after Bethell et al’s 2019 study with seven Positive Childhood Experiences. We asked TCKs seven questions, and each time they answered ‘true’ or ‘mostly true’ they received a score of 1, leading to a total score of 0-7. 

  1. I felt safe/accepted when talking about my feelings with my family.
  2. I felt my family stood by me during difficult times.
  3. An adult in my home made me feel safe and protected.
  4. I felt supported by friends.
  5. I felt a sense of belonging during my high school years (around age 14-18).
  6. I engaged in community traditions I enjoyed. (These might include religious festivals, national holidays, school events, or annual gatherings.)
  7. I always had at least two adults in my life who genuinely cared about me (not including my parents).

The difference in long-term outcomes for TCKs with all seven PCEs vs TCKs with no PCEs was astounding. For example, TCKs with all 7 PCEs were:

  • 63% less likely to be diagnosed with anxiety
  • 72% less likely to abuse alcohol or use illicit drugs
  • 86% less likely to be diagnosed with PTSD
  • 2.1x more likely to say being a TCK was “the best way to grow up”
  • 5.4x more likely to say the TCK life was “wonderful, no regrets”

Yet this is only part of the story. High PCEs often come with low trauma. In order to really test whether PCEs were responsible for better outcomes, we divided our survey respondents into four groups. First we divided them into those with 0-4 PCEs and those with 5-7 PCEs; then we divided each of those groups by high/low trauma scores.

This meant we could look just at TCKs with high trauma, or just with low trauma, and see whether PCE scores made a difference within each group. Over and over, through dozens of different factors, high PCE scores made a difference for TCKs.

Even When Life Is Hard, Preventive Care Matters

We repeatedly saw that even when TCKs experienced trauma during childhood, those with higher PCE scores had better long term outcomes. For a TCK with 3 or more ACEs, also having 5-7 PCEs meant they were:

  • 38% less likely to smoke
  • 67% less likely to abuse prescription medication
  • 46% more likely to say that the TCK life was a good experience overall
  • 2x more likely to say living abroad made their family closer
  • 2.3x more likely to say the TCK life was “wonderful, no regrets”

Sometimes, the traumas that form an ACE score are hard for parents and caregivers to prevent. Bad things happen, even to good people, good families, and when everyone tries their best. For example, parents struggling with their own emotional or mental health during difficult international transitions are not always capable of parenting at their best, especially when solid support is in short supply. 

The good news is that protective factors are powerful — and many occur outside the home. Every family needs a village to provide additional support for their children, to create this protective shield against the difficulties of life.

Preventive Care Is for ALL Families

Yet preventive care is not just for those kids and families having a difficult time. Preventive care helps everyone! TCKs with 0-2 Adverse Childhood Experiences also benefited from the presence of Positive Childhood Experiences! Those with 5-7 PCEs were:

  • 38% less likely to abuse alcohol
  • 43% less likely to be diagnosed with a chronic illness
  • 44% less likely to experience suicidal ideation
  • 52% less likely to self harm
  • 63% less likely to have 25 or more sexual partners

The good news is that these protective factors make a difference in the lives of all TCKs, even when they are not experiencing childhood trauma. 

We Can All Make a Difference

Something that was clear across each group was the impact of PCEs on TCKs’ perception of their parents’ work abroad. If you’re anything like me, you’ve heard stories and read articles about missionary kids who felt let down by their parents’ work, by the missionary organisation they worked for, and even by God for sending their family to do such a hard thing. 

I think it is therefore really important to know that in our research, a TCK with all 7 PCEs was 2.2x more likely to be proud of their parents’ work abroad than a TCK with no PCEs. And whether they had low or high trauma scores, TCKs with 5 or more PCEs were 44% more likely to be proud of their parents’ work abroad. 

Part of caring for missionary families well is being the village they need to provide emotional support through life. Being the friends who form their community — sharing friendship, being ‘aunties’ and ‘uncles’ to their children, and celebrating traditions together. These things make a big difference in the lives of children growing up globally.

Learn more about the Protective Factors:

Free course on implementing PCEs

Read the free research report

Read the full research report

Watch the workshop explaining the research

Photo by Ryan Stefan on Unsplash

 

The Hidden Stresses of MKs Who Love Missions

Ormiston Gorge, Central Australia

I’m writing this from my sister’s dining table. Despite the depth of Australian winter, sun streams through the high windows, gradually moving across a beautiful original artwork by a local indigenous artist here in the central desert region of the country.

Over the past six weeks here I’ve leaned into my own artist heart by spending hours sitting in the beautiful red desert landscape, painting watercolours. If you’ve ever painted with watercolours yourself, you’ll know there is a lot of patience required. I paint a layer, wait for it to dry, then paint the next layer, slowly building a picture layer by layer, one colour at a time.

During this time as I’ve sat down at my computer, I’ve leaned into a different part of my heart, one with a different kind of artistry – data analysis. While research and data analysis may not sound as artistic, entrancing, and interesting to you as it does to me, it is something I am passionate about.

There is something akin to the patient layer-building of watercolour painting. The most interesting and important answers don’t come to light immediately. Yet as I filter and layer the huge amounts of data offered to us by the adult TCK community, pictures begin to emerge. In this post I am going to share with you just one of the pictures emerging over the last few months.

Surveying TCK Experiences 

In our cumulative decades of work with TCKs, we’ve heard some things repeated time and time again — opinions about their parents, opinions about their childhood, joys and struggles. When we developed our latest survey, we drew on that experience to see how widely certain sentiments were shared. 

Among them, we offered four key statements related to a sense of identity with parents’ work:

  1. “That I belonged to something greater than myself (identified with their work/purpose)”
  2. “Proud of my parent’s work”
  3. “Desire to ‘follow in their footsteps’ in some way when I grew up”
  4. “Indifferent to my parent’s occupation abroad (no different to anywhere else)”

We also offered four key statements around various stressors related to their experiences living overseas during childhood:

  1. “Pressure to be ‘perfect’ as my behavior reflected on my parent’s employer”
  2. “Anxiety as a result of duties assigned to me (i.e. tour guide, translator)”
  3. “Pressure to ‘perform’ while visiting our passport country”
  4. “Worry that misbehavior on my part might result in our family having to leave the country”

From this we had some wonderful initial stats, and some troubling initial stats – all of which we shared in our First Look research report. With more analysis over time, deeper connections led to a discernible pattern: groups who identified strongly with their parents’ work and purpose abroad also carried higher levels of stress, anxiety and/or pressure connected to it.

Similarly, the more indifferent a group was to their parents’ occupation abroad, the less likely they were to experience these pressures. For example, TCKs who grew up in corporate families were far less likely to express a sense of connection to their parents’ employment; in fact, nearly half said they were “indifferent” to their parents’ work, and only 16% felt a sense of belonging/purpose connected to it. Yet corporate TCKs were also far less likely to feel the various pressures listed above. “There seemed to be benefits to this ‘disconnect’ from parents’ occupation” (Corporate Adult TCKs & Mental Health: First Look at the 2024 Research).

What This Means for Missionary Families

This pattern is crucial when we talk about missionary kids. Missionary kids expressed a really strong connection to their parents’ work abroad – something most of us want to see and encourage! Three quarters of missionary kids felt proud of their parents’ work, and they also identified with the sense of purpose it created; more than half wanted to follow in their parents’ footsteps. Only 10% of missionary kids said they were “indifferent” to their parents’ work (Adult Missionary Kids & Mental Health: First Look at the 2024 Research). These are statistics to make hearts that love missions and missionary families leap for joy.

And yet.

More than half of missionary kids felt pressure to be ‘perfect’ while living abroad (compared to a quarter of corporate TCKs).

Even more missionary kids felt pressure to “perform” when they visited their passport countries. More than any other sector of TCKs – in fact, more than twice as likely than most other sectors, including corporate TCKs.

Why does this happen?

Let’s think about one missionary kid, rather than the huge group who contributed to this survey. Think of a child or teenager who is very proud of the missionary work their parents do. They feel their whole family is involved in this work, and so they feel a sense of connection, of being part of this work, and derive a sense of purpose from being in this overseas country in order to do this work. 

Because of their emotional investment in this work, they will naturally develop a sense of responsibility for the work. They want to do what they can do to help. But what does that mean, when their day looks like going to school and being part of the community? Perhaps they even ask their parents how they might contribute. And their parents let them know that simply living their everyday lives as witnesses is powerful. 

Because children can easily extrapolate concepts well beyond what well-meaning adults intended, soon we have a child who has internalised the idea that everything they say and do in public impacts the work their parents – their whole family – is doing. Slowly, they feel a burden of responsibility that goes beyond the everyday witness their parents intended.

Or perhaps think of a child who enjoys their life overseas but suddenly finds themself in their passport country for home assignment. Every weekend they stand in front of a new group of strangers (some of whom call them by name and act like they know everything their family does) and perform stories or songs of what they do in the “foreign country” that is the only home they know. They field odd questions, talk about daily routines to laughter and astonishment, and throughout it all make sure to smile brightly because they realise at least on some level that their family’s livelihood depends on these people who know nothing about their life.

A child who on the outside seems to be invested in the mission and well behaved may be carrying a heavy burden of stress on the inside.

Leaning in with Intentional Care

Praising the benefits of missionary life without acknowledging the difficulties does missionary families and missionary kids a disservice. The picture emerging from the data is that these two sides of missionary kid life are connected.  Understanding that this connection exists allows us to be intentional about providing targeted preventive care that supports missionary kids and their families.

A Life Overseas is a great repository of resources for missionaries, member carers, and supporting churches. This includes a range of articles that acknowledge potential pitfalls in seeing missionary kids as extensions of their missionary parents. Three great examples of this are My Kids are Not Little Missionaries, 3 Ways to Care for the Heart of Your Missionary Kid and Don’t Call Your Kids World Changers. 

Another way to help MKs with internalized pressures is by asking great questions to facilitate open and honest communication. A Life Overseas also has some great posts with suggestions for questions to ask TCKs – whether you are a parent, a caregiver, or a supporter in a church lobby! These include: 10 Questions to Routinely Ask Your TCKs, 10 Questions Missionary Kids Would Love to be Asked, and Questions Third Culture Kids and Their Parents Love.

Of course, we always recommend learning about Positive Childhood Experiences (PCEs) and their proven relationship to long-term wellness. TCK Training offers a free video miniseries on PCEs designed to help parents implement these fundamentals intentionally in a globally mobile life. 

Meanwhile, I continue to paint – with watercolours and with data – as I complete a few projects that mean the world to me. I’ve been teaching my nine-year-old niece to paint watercolours, while painting a local ring-necked parrot she ‘commissioned’ from me.

And after months of painstakingly layering data analysis, I have completed new research on Protective Factors that Improve Long Term Wellness in TCKs (launching September 16th, 2025). You may not be a painter, but I hope you enjoy the picture painted in this research report. It provides joy and hope for all of us caring for the hearts of TCKs around the world.

Why I Compiled Letters Now Sent

By Megan C. Norton-Newbanks

When I first dreamed of compiling Letters Now Sent, Volume 1, I had no idea what would unfold. What began as a quiet idea—a nudge to create space for heartfelt, handwritten reflections—quickly became a deeply moving, grand experiment.

Inspired by Ruth Van Reken’s Letters Never Sent, I wanted to invite people who have lived cross-culturally to write letters—not polished essays or anonymous journal entries, but real, signed, vulnerable letters to and from the people who have shaped their journeys.

What emerged was a cultural archive. A chorus of voices. A tender mosaic of identity, loss, belonging, and celebration.

These letters are powerful because they are honest. They contain apology, affirmation, disappointment, gratitude, grief, and love. They come from people who have lived between cultures and across borders—people who’ve had to say too many goodbyes, who’ve wrestled with where they belong, who’ve discovered joy in unlikely places. These letters are not just reflections; they are historical records. Primary source documents that speak directly to what it means to navigate life in multiple cultural worlds.

Every letter in this book was written with courage. Many were written without knowing exactly how they would land. Some with laughter still echoing, others through tears. But all of them carry truth. And that, I believe, is what makes them so beautiful.

One of my mentors recently reminded me, “If it’s a real relationship, it’s a truth-full one.” That stuck with me throughout this process. I wanted this book to be a place where real people could speak truthfully—where the messiness of humanity wasn’t edited out but held gently.

There were moments when the editorial team and I hesitated. Some letters are hard. Some may be misunderstood. But we chose to include them all. Because in these letters, there is an invitation: to lean in, to listen with curiosity instead of judgment, and to honor the complexities of our shared humanity.

I hold deep respect for the letter writers. What they’ve done—what they’ve shared—is no small thing. They’ve trusted us with their stories. And now, as readers, we have a responsibility to receive these letters with care.

These are pieces of larger stories. We don’t get the whole picture, but we do get something real—something significant. And in that proximity, in getting close to someone’s heart, we discover that our human experiences are far more alike than they are different.

Our lives are not tidy. They are sweet and salty, spicy and sometimes sour. They are paradoxical, contradictory, beautiful, and hard. These letters show us that.

I often return to a quote from Kate Bowler’s Have a Beautiful, Terrible Day: “It’s not every day that you see it, but sometimes beauty sneaks up on you with a tenderness, a sweetness, so lovely it hurts” (p. 93).

That’s how these letters feel to me. They sneak up on you. They stay with you. They break your heart open in the best way.

Letters Now Sent is for anyone who has lived between cultures, loved someone who has, or simply finds beauty in diverse stories. These letters are not about passports or perfect endings. They are about presence, truth, and connection.

This book is a box of saved letters, offered to you with reverence. My hope is that, as you read, you will pause. Listen. Hold space for the mess and the wonder. And maybe, just maybe, you’ll see a bit of your own story reflected back.

With deep gratitude,
Megan C. Norton-Newbanks
Compiler & Editor, Letters Now Sent, Volume 1

Read the collection: Letters Now Sent, Volume 1 on Amazon

Editor’s Note: The beauty of this book is that the letters are written by normal, everyday people. But global readers here at A Life Overseas may also recognize other names in the book, many of whom have written (or whose work has been referenced) at A Life Overseas in the past: Marilyn Gardner, Ruth Van Reken, Lois Bushong, Anna Danforth, Tanya Crossman, Kathleen Smith, and Chris O’Shaughnessy. ~Elizabeth Trotter

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Megan C. Norton-Newbanks (MA, MS) is an author, Third Culture Kid (TCK) consultant, intercultural trainer, podcast host of “A Culture Story,” and writer at adultthirdculturekid.com. Growing up as a U.S. diplomat dependent, she lived in six countries and has lived in four more countries as an Adult Third Culture Kid (in addition to six U.S. States). Her book, Belonging Beyond Borders: How Adult Third Culture Kids Can Cultivate a Sense of Belonging, equips and empowers globally mobile youth to recognize their cultural competencies and apply them in various contexts. She frequently leads both in-person and virtual TCK workshops, university retreats, and intercultural dialogue groups for a variety of international entities and sectors. Her writings and research are published in several magazines and online forums, and she currently manages the publication of several Third Culture Kid-specific books. Megan is actively involved with several organizations that support expats and Third Culture Kids (MuKappa International, Foreign Service Youth Foundation, Expat Valley, Families in Global Transition, OMF, Intercultural Transitions). For the past seven years, Megan has been the co-chair of the NAFSA Global Nomad/TCK Interest Group. She loves hearing TCKs share their stories and supporting their journey into their next “home.”

Hearing the Good and the Hard of Missionary Kid Lives

I have been working in TCK research for over ten years. That includes six large scale surveys (with 200-2000 responses) and over 600 interviews. The data I’m currently analysing comes from TCK Training’s 2024 survey of 1,643 TCKs around the world. It was a long survey covering a lot of topics and I wish I could spend ten hours a day delving into the details! For now, the initial data on missionary kids has a lot to say about their experiences. (The full First Look data drop is available paywall free.) 

In this post I will share with you four key things we learned about missionary kids (MKs) through the research:

  1. Most missionary kids are glad they grew up abroad.
  2. Good things and hard things are often intertwined.
  3. Missionary kids feel a lot of pressure.
  4. Emotional support and mental health are key.

1) Most missionary kids are glad they grew up abroad. 

Throughout my research I have learned many hopeful things about how TCKs perceive their globally mobile childhoods. The vast majority have positive things to say about their experiences, even though they may in the same breath acknowledge that there were also difficulties. In this latest research we learned:

  • 91% of MKs said growing up abroad was a good experience overall.
  • 76% of MKs said it made their family closer.
  • 72% of MKs said it was “the best way to grow up.”

2) Good things and hard things are often intertwined.

Life is rarely black and white. To truly understand the lives of missionary kids, we must hear the nuance in their stories — that there were hard things along with the good things. Even many MKs who had the most difficult experiences of childhood also saw positives in their upbringing.

  • 98% of MKs said, “I can see both good parts and hard parts in my story.”
  • 96% of MKs said, “There were hard times, but it enriched my life.”
  • 83% of MKs said, “I enjoyed my childhood, but I think some things could have been handled better.”
  • And only 7% of MKs said living abroad “ruined my life.”

3) Missionary kids feel a lot of pressure.

When TCK Training asked TCKs about various childhood experiences connected to their parents’ work, we found that missionary kids were much more likely to feel certain pressures when they were children.

  • 69% of MKs felt “pressure to ‘perform’ while visiting our passport country”; they were twice as likely as other TCKs to feel this pressure.
  • 54% of MKs felt “pressure to be ‘perfect’ as my behavior reflected on my parent’s employer.”
  • 27% of MKs said that as children they felt “anxiety as a result of duties assigned to me (i.e. tour guide, translator)”; they were twice as likely as other TCKs to feel this anxiety.

Through my interviews I have also learned that many missionary kids try to hide their stress from their parents, as they do not want to cause additional burden to their parents. They love their parents and recognise the strain they already carry. 

4) Emotional support and mental health are key.

While those of us working to support missionary kids have long seen impacts on their mental health, when the results came in, the numbers were still heavy. 

  • During childhood, 37% of MKs lived with someone who had a serious mental health crisis.
  • 34% of MKs reported experiencing a serious mental health crisis themselves during childhood.
  • 40% of MKs had been diagnosed with a mental illness during their lifetime.
  • 86% of MKs experienced symptoms of at least one mental health concern during their lifetime.

We’re also seeing that missionary kids are less likely to receive diagnoses than other TCKs. For example, while 47% of MKs experienced symptoms of PTSD, only 12% received a diagnosis (which is still nearly double the rate of PTSD diagnosis in the US population). 

Missionary kids are experiencing the impact of not only their own mental health struggles, but the struggles of their parents. One thing I’ve seen over and over through our research and working with thousands of TCKs and their families around the world is that when parents are doing well, they have the energy and capacity to care for their kids better. So not only do the TCKs need access to quality mental health support, but getting the parents this kind of support is crucial!  

There are a range of issues contributing to a lack of mental healthcare for missionary families. Many families lack access to quality mental health services due to a remote location, financial stress, frequent mobility, language access, or a combination of these factors. 

Stigma around mental health can also play a role in preventing MKs (and their parents) reaching out for the support they need. It is important that we talk openly about mental health and the ways we benefit from getting support.

Prevention Matters

The saying “an ounce of prevention is better than a pound of cure” (attributed to Benjamin Franklin) is appropriate here. I believe this data demonstrates the importance of preventive care for MKs and missionary families. My hope and desire is that we support families in such a way that we see rates of mental health concerns drop over time, and MKs flourish — on the field and throughout their lives.

One of the many reasons I love my work at TCK Training is that we believe that international life is a good thing and that it can go hand in hand with a healthy family life. We work to create quality preventive care resources, and we share our research freely because we believe quality research is a critical component of exceptional TCK care. We want caregivers, parents, and supporting churches alike to be equipped to care for TCKs well! 

 

This article expands on data shared in “Key Takeaways for TCKs” in Mission Frontiers, May/June 2025.

Photo by Kasturi Laxmi Mohit on Unsplash

Could God Be Preparing TCKs to Meet the Deepest Needs of This Generation?

Motherhood photo by Mukil Menon.

Growing up overseas offers children an incredible opportunity to develop a global perspective based on the lived experiences of forming personal connections across cultures. I’ve certainly seen that unfold from my own childhood, and in my work as an expat consultant, I’m watching the next generation carry forward a global mindset that is making an exceptional impact on relationships, identities, and a strong witness for Christ. But this doesn’t happen by accident. 

My own story began as an American child living in Cameroon, where my parents served as Wycliffe Bible translators. Our missionary life started the day our ivory family of six spilled out of our Nissan truck and into the lives of an ebony clan who would become family, changing me forever. Two decades earlier, an elder of their village had written a plea to Wycliffe for a Bible translation in his language. He unknowingly forged the path that would make me a Third Culture Kid — someone who spent a significant amount of their childhood years abroad. 

Growing up in Cameroon shaped me profoundly. It made other people’s experiences anything but distant. News of war in Africa wasn’t a faceless story. I shared life with people who were killed or displaced in Cameroon’s Anglophone Crisis. My husband is a TCK whose family lived through not one, not two, but several evacuations from war-torn countries. The people who experienced days without potable water, dehydration, hushing their babies while hiding in the bush, homemade bombs going off at social gatherings, retribution for speaking out, the terrible silence of ghost towns, and the wailing of women were not nameless people in a news article to me. 

A childhood spent with these people also made their joys anything but distant. The children they birthed were babies I carried on my back and celebrated when they brought home their first report cards. Witnessing the people of my childhood hold the Word of God in their own language for the first time wasn’t just a media post I swiped past. It was sacred and deeply moving — the culmination of sharing 20 years of my family’s life with a community that fed me beans from the same bowls as their children, taught me their songs and stories around kitchen fires, boiled herbal medicine when I was sick, and cried shouts of joy when they hugged me home from boarding school. They were worth sacrificing for, and they felt the same way about us.

Growing up between worlds gives children the chance to experience the love, joy, loss, pain, and victory of our global neighbors in a deeply personal way — one that often moves them to action later as adults. Often unaware of their own strengths, Adult TCKs tend to be highly sought after in today’s job market due to essential skills that were developed as a result of their globally-mobile childhood. 

According to wealth management companies Creative Planning International and Sable International, ATCK skills include compassion, empathy, adaptability, open-mindedness, independence, resilience, problem-solving, and the ability to consider multiple perspectives.1 These qualities are increasingly rare and extremely attractive in a Western backdrop marked by divisiveness, screen saturation, and overstimulation. This growing recognition is fueling the rise of world schoolers, families who choose to work remotely to provide real-world, cross-cultural experiences as the foundation for their children’s education.

Globally raised children are poised to make a significant impact on the next generation on a spiritual level too. Their experiences abroad foster carefully curated skills that will directly address the projected societal deficiencies of Gen Alpha. Experts predict that Gen Alpha will face psychological challenges from digital lives, including unsustainable pace, relentless change, lack of genuine connection, lack of face-to-face contact, risk-aversion, real-world interaction deficiencies, fragmented attention, and more.2 Additional challenges include social fragmentation, polarization, and difficulty forming meaningful relationships. We already see warning signs of this in Gen Z.

God’s heart for all people compels us to prepare ourselves and our kids with the tools necessary to minister to each generation’s unique challenges. 1 Timothy 2:3-4 reminds us of the breadth of God’s heart: “This is good, and it is pleasing in the sight of God our Savior, who desires all people to be saved and to come to the knowledge of the truth.”3 So, how will we reach them?

I believe today’s TCKs are uniquely positioned to minister to Gen Z and Gen Alpha’s challenges with a clarity of the gospel that is a direct result of their global upbringing. TCK Training’s 2024 survey of 1,643 adult TCKs representing 92 nationalities uncovered exciting information about the third culture kid experience.4 Their strengths align remarkably well with the skills needed to meet future challenges:

  • 93% of adult TCKs report having a broad worldview — a crucial skill in addressing complex spiritual questions in an information-saturated generation.
  • 83% see themselves as bridges between cultures — a critical capability in holding the core truth of scripture in tension with an increasingly polarized culture.
  • 83% report compassion as a strength — a necessary trait as Gen Alpha is projected to be more deficient in meaningful face-to-face contact than previous generations.
  • 82% report adaptability — an essential skill as Gen Z and Gen Alpha face complex issues with unprecedented access to information.
  • 78% report open-mindedness — an important tool in an increasingly globalized world. 

When I consider the reported strengths of TCKs, I can’t help but wonder if God is purposefully building Gen Z and Gen Alpha TCKs to minister to the wounds of their own generation. Is it possible that God will use their upbringing between cultures to bridge the gap and equip them with a profound clarity of the lived gospel? Might this powerfully shake the world and bring healing to our spiritual sickness? 

But here’s the caveat. This only holds true when it’s done well. 

Over the last few generations, the international community has learned painful lessons about the importance of intentional parenting in the expat context. We would do well to learn from what works and what doesn’t in raising kids abroad. While the TCK experience offers a valuable and rich foundation, mishandling it can lead to grave repercussions. TCKs are at higher risk for Adverse Childhood Experiences (ACEs) than other populations, which can result in long-term physical and mental health complications when left unattended.5 

Does this mean parents should avoid raising children abroad? Absolutely not. 

Consider this analogy: I’m at risk for plantar fasciitis. Should I avoid walking, hiking, or running? Recent studies show that a sedentary lifestyle is as harmful to my health as smoking and diabetes. In fact, not exercising was found to increase risk of death by 500%.6 Avoiding exercise is not the answer to my fullest and healthiest life. Instead, I researched triggers and mitigating factors and pursued an active lifestyle while investing in supportive shoes, stretching, and taking breaks when I detected pain.

In the same way, parents can raise TCKs while addressing specific risks and implementing mitigating factors. Due to mobility, the number one risk factor for TCKs is loss of connection—with primary caregivers and with community. Stress for parents, frequent moves, and the loss of familiar environments all heighten this risk.

This is where the power of TCK-informed parenting comes in. If loss of connection is the primary risk factor for TCKs, what would happen if TCK connection were centralized in the expat community? 

In 2019, Dr. Christina Bethell conducted a study of 6,188 people at John Hopkins to determine which childhood factors built resilience instead of fragility in adult mental health.7 She found that even children who had experienced mild to severe trauma in childhood went on to have greater resilience and better mental and emotional health in adulthood if they also had positive connections with primary caregivers, peers, and the community.8 The study further showed that Positive Childhood Experiences, or PCEs, had a cumulative effect in that the more PCEs a child had, the greater their health in adulthood.

This study’s impact on preventive care science leaves us with hope that increasing access to PCEs may alter the trajectory of children at risk for trauma and higher ACE scores. It further explains the significant and lasting difference that caregivers and the community make in raising a healthy generation.

The eight PCEs are:

  1. The ability to talk with family about feelings.
  2. The sense that family is supportive during difficult times.
  3. Feeling safe and protected by an adult in the home.
  4. Feeling supported by friends.
  5. Feeling a sense of belonging in high school.
  6. Participating in community traditions.
  7. Having at least two non-parent adults who genuinely cared (Pinetree Institute).
  8. Belonging to a multi-generational group. 

Each of the PCEs center on connection, starting with the primary caregiver and then extending to the wider community. Children who consistently had 6-7 PCEs were 72% less likely to develop mental illness in adulthood. Those who had 3-5 were 50% less likely to develop depression and poor mental health.9 Everyone plays a stewardship role in building vibrant childhoods — from parents, to peers, and the wider community. 

Many of us in the expat community are painfully aware of crash-and-burn stories of TCKs whose needs were put on the backburner in a passionate pursuit of global work. Even armed with these insights as a TCK mom, I was not immune to my own blindspots and moments of disconnection. However, as an expat family instructor, I am deeply encouraged by today’s TCK parents and their strong commitment to centralize the needs of the family as a launching point for effective ministry, not a secondary consideration.

It is true that TCKs are at higher risk than other populations for a high ACE score largely due to mobility and loss of connection. Yet the good news is clear: Positive Childhood Experiences grounded in meaningful relationships have a protective and lasting effect. Even in the face of adversity, children who experience strong family bonds, supportive friendships, and a sense of belonging are significantly more resilient and healthy.

As an expat parent, it is within your hands to nurture your child’s potential to become spiritually whole themselves before becoming a globally aware citizen who brings God’s healing touch to their generation. It starts with TCK-informed parenting — knowing the risks, focusing on connection, and raising spiritually and emotionally vibrant children. The stakes are too high to remain uninformed.

If you would like to know where to start, here are resources I recommend.

Footnotes
1 Sengelmann, Peter. Benefits of Living Overseas with Children. Creative Planning International. (September 23, 2024). Accessed 01/29/2025; Shrosbree, Leanne. 10 reasons growing up abroad gives your children a head start in life. Sable International. (June 6, 2019). Accessed 01/29/2025.
2 Nellis, Joe. What does the future hold for Gen Alpha? Cranfield Executive Development. Accessed 01/28/2025; Haidt, Jonathan. End the Phone-Based Childhood Now. The Atlantic. (March 13, 2024). Accessed 01/29/2025.
3 English Standard Version Bible. Bible Gateway. Accessed 02/08/2025.
4 Crossman, T., Wells, L., Vahey Smith, E., & Kanabar, S. (2025, January 20). First Look: Data from the 2024 Survey on the Impact of Childhood Global Mobility on Adult Wellness, 52. Retrieved from https://www.tcktraining.com/research/first-look-data-from-the-2024-survey
5 Ibid., 9.
6 Mandal, Anaya. Not exercising is worse than smoking, diabetes or heart disease finds study. News Medical Life Sciences. (October 21, 2018). Accessed 01/28/2025.
7 Bethell C, Jones J, Gombojav N, Linkenbach J, Sege R. Positive Childhood Experiences and Adult Mental and Relational Health in a Statewide Sample: Associations Across Adverse Childhood Experiences Levels. JAMA Pediatr. (2019):e193007. Accessed 02/01/2025.
8  Pinetree Institute. Positive Childhood Experiences (PCES). Accessed 02/01/2025.
9 Bethell C, Jones J, Gombojav N, Linkenbach J, Sege R. Positive Childhood Experiences. JAMA Pediatr. (2019):e193007. Accessed 02/01/2025.

 

This article expands on data shared in “Key Takeaways for TCKs” in Mission Frontiers, May/June 2025.

Photo by Mukil Menon, Unsplash.

The Truly International Scope of the TCK World

If you’ve spent much time around A Life Overseas, you probably know that Third Culture Kids (TCKs) spend at least part of their growing up years living outside their passport countries, expecting a return ‘home’ to a country at least somewhat foreign to them.

When you picture TCKs, what do you see? Who do you imagine? An American missionary kid living in Africa, or Asia?That child is certainly a TCK. So is the Cameroonian daughter of a UN employee growing up in Tanzania, the Singaporean businessman’s son growing up in Thailand, and the children of a Brazilian missionary growing up in Lebanon. Each one of these examples resembles a TCK I know.

TCKs don’t just grow up around the world. TCKs are from every country in the world!

Seeing the Diversity of TCKs

I first learned about the TCK world in the context of a large international church, where families from over 70 countries met together each week for worship. It was ten years after my own teenage repatriation.

The young people in the youth group where I volunteered came from a variety of backgrounds. Some were missionary kids, while others had parents in the diplomat corps, the military, or multinational businesses. Still other parents worked in international schools, local universities, or ran their own businesses.

When we ran youth camps (and had to register with the local police), I would carry a stack of 100+ passports to the administration office of the conference centre to fill in paperwork. I knew TCKs from Brazil, Burundi, China, DR Congo, Finland, France, Germany, Guatemala, Guyana, Hong Kong, Indonesia, Japan, Madagascar, Malaysia, Nigeria, Russia, Singapore, South Korea, Switzerland, Taiwan, Uganda, Uzbekistan, Venezuela, Zambia, and many more nations. (Incidentally, the paperwork process also helped me learn the Chinese names for many nations!)

One of my favourite parts of my first book, Misunderstood, is near the back. There is an appendix called “Global Contributions” which lists all the countries that the 270 TCKs I interviewed and the 750 TCKs I surveyed came from and lived in. The 165 territories listed include 153 of the 193 UN member nations. My TCK cohort came from 86 different passport countries. The first section of the book is short, but it quotes eight TCKs bearing eight nationalities: Australia, China, Indonesia, Hong Kong, New Zealand, the UK, the USA, and Zambia.

Listening to the Stories of TCKs

It is so important to hear the stories of TCKs, including missionary kids, who live very different lives than what we might normally associate with the ‘picture’ of a TCK. They have important things to bring to the TCK table. 

Through the years I’ve continued to listen, and learn, from more stories.

I’ve learned from the stories of missionary kids growing up in indigenous communities in their own passport countries (in Brazil and Australia) about the great cultural and linguistic differences they face within their own borders. 

I’ve learned from the stories of Indian and Nigerian missionary kids at ‘home’, where moving to a new state can mean the community has a different language, a different religion, a different culture — and different expectations to go along with each. Places where your name can mark you as different and not belonging, all without ever leaving your passport country.

I’ve learned from the stories of Chinese missionary kids living in the Middle East and Central Asia, stuck between languages and cultures, without access to other TCKs, living vicariously through the internet. 

I’ve learned from the stories of Brazilian missionary kids, changing countries and school years mid-year (something an Aussie TCK like me can commiserate with), always pushed back but never moved forward due to language barriers and curriculum changes. Many ended up finishing high school at age 20. Others were left either without the curriculum capacity to attend university in Brazil or the finances to study elsewhere. 

I’ve learned from the stories of missionary kids growing up on ministry ships that travel the globe. These TCKs often have parents from different countries and/or cultures, and they may even have been born during a stop along the way. They build their own international culture on board ship as they travel. Finding a sense of belonging in any single culture can leave them feeling out of their depth. 

I’ve learned that my experience as an Australian TCK going to an American school in the USA resonates with a lot of South American TCKs going to local schools in different Spanish-speaking countries, Taiwanese TCKs going to school in mainland China, and African TCKs going to school in a neighbouring country that, while also English-speaking or Francophone, was culturally very different.  

Hearing Global Voices

When voices that have similar or parallel experiences to our own are easy to find, we must put in effort to find the voices that are different. That effort is so worth it! While a lot of TCK literature and conversation comes from primarily western voices, with primarily white and English-speaking backgrounds, there is a much wider variety to tap into. Here are some suggestions if you want to listen to more stories:

The Round Trip Stories podcast is currently doing a season on Third Culture Kids and has TCKs from a range of backgrounds sharing their stories.

The Living With No Roots podcast is hosted by an Ivorian/Congolese TCK who grew up in Lebanon. Interesting reflections as well as some guests who share their own stories.

Talks with a TCK Friend is a podcast hosted by a Filipino TCK who has hosted a range of TCKs from different backgrounds for conversations about their experiences.

The Global Chatter podcast shares stories from TCKs and expats all over the world with a very diverse set of experiences.

Some older podcasts (no longer updating) also hold treasures of stories for those who want to listen. Some of these include TCK Tales podcast, Third Culture podcast, Barely African podcast, When Life Gives You Calamansi podcast, and Third Culture Stories (which captures the TCKs of Asia forums).

There are also books written by TCKs from non-western backgrounds, and there is much we can learn from their insights. These include Girl Uprooted by Lena Lee, The Third Culture Teen by Jiwon Lee, and Tales of a Diplomat’s Daughter by Marie Suazo.

I always have my ears open to listen to more stories, so please share your own suggestions for us in the comments!

Coming soon…

As a researcher, I believe another important way to hear TCKs’ voices is through quantitative research. In my role as TCK Training’s research director, I am currently neck deep in data analysis following our latest survey. I was delighted to find 93 passport countries represented amongst our survey’s 1,643 respondents. We have enough variety in responses to compare responses between TCKs from USA/Canada, the other Americas, Europe, Africa, Asia, and Australia/NZ. I am so excited for what we will learn as we listen to these voices! Stay tuned for the first major drop of data in early 2025.

 

Photo by Atikh Bana on Unsplash