New Zealand’s ‘Third Culture Kids’: Creating Identity From the ‘Other’ Box

Third Culture Kids, or TCKs, are accustomed to not fitting in.

Coined by American socialist Ruth Useem in the 1950s, the term describes children who grew up living in a foreign country, often the children of diplomats, business or military employees.

Whether they’re mixed-race, impacted by a childhood spent relocating from place to place, or settled in a country different to the one they were born in, TCKs come from migrant families who, in general, move overseas for work or better living opportunities. 

Boosted international trade and capital flows created a period of ‘hyper globalisation’ during 1990 to 2008, and since then international migration has continued to increase. It’s estimated that if all expat families were to be put in a country of their own they'd make up the fifth largest population in the world.

The latest UN report on international migration found that the pandemic had slowed travel everywhere, but Oceania still has the largest share of international migrants, when compared to the local population from those regions. 

In Aotearoa, reclamation of Indigenous values, language and ownership has been an ongoing process. Underlying racism causes challenges for TCKs growing up here. Although Aotearoa prides itself on diversity, media and the works of various artists and musicians show that although not everyone is racist, racism in New Zealand is still present, and has had debilitating effects on minority populations.

When it comes to personal identity and feeling a sense of home, researchers have found TCKs to be a vulnerable population because they’re often still developing their identity outside of conventional boxes. 

“In their formative years, a TCK frequently builds relationships to all of the cultures, while not having full ownership in any,” writes David C. Pollock in his book, Third Culture Kids: The Experience of Growing Up Among Worlds.  

Here, that experience can find you deeply connected to the land and people, without fully understanding how or why. Indigenous culture is one that people from many cultures can connect to on various levels.

Sometimes, however, and depending on who you are talking to or where you are, you are swiftly reminded that you are still an outsider.

VICE spoke to 3 New Zealand-based TCKs about their experiences growing up, and the challenges they have faced from their unique position of identifying with many cultures at once, to find out more.

Joe Daymond is a 27-year-old Māori-Fijian TCK whose parents work in IT. He runs his own media company, West Park, and has a new 8-part series coming out on Comedy Central UK and SKY called Bouncers.

When he was 5-years-old, Joe and his family lived in Malaysia and India. Born in Wellington, he said living in Asia gave him the tools to morph between class or cultural situations, which he was grateful for. 

“I can walk into any room and feel comfortable. I feel like I can talk to anybody. And not just on a small-talk basis, but genuinely converse and learn about their life,” he told VICE. 

West Park was backed by Māori Television last year. The show was “created to allow more accessibility for in-between people”, like Joe. 

“Our new show, The Boys Are Decorating is about getting men into interior design as a means of expressing themselves in a way that they maybe haven’t been able to,” he said. 

As a Polynesian TCK Joe said he struggled to find access points to his own cultures, and that “constantly feeling like an outsider” was where he drew values to build his company around. 

“Some days I feel Māori. Some days I feel Fijian. Some days I feel Pakeha. I accepted that I will forever be fluid in this, and the thing I take away from that is the privilege of even being able to be a part of those worlds, regardless of where I see myself in them,” Joe told VICE.

Joe said that, for him, TCK mental health was extremely relevant to address, specifically in New Zealand.

“It’s very easy to fall in the cracks as a TCK,” he said.

“I think we know how to think outside of ourselves, as we’re constantly expected to. It’s a weird feeling, never being a part of something. But when you’re constantly on the outside looking in, you know what’s beautiful about something, you know what needs to be worked on, you see things in perspectives that others cannot.”

“I think that’s a genuine superpower and something I not only continue to do for my community, but something I’m constantly doing for myself to make sure I’m holding myself correctly in the spaces I can occupy. I’m always looking at them from the outside.”

Athandiwe Ntshinga, or Thandi, is a singer and songwriter whose stage name is Amarafleur. She is the daughter of a recently retired diplomat, and she and her family have lived in India, Tanzania, New Zealand and Hong Kong. 

Attending international school in New Delhi and private school in Wellington, she said New Zealand was the place where she experienced the least overt racism. The one time she did, her parents quickly pulled up to the school and demanded an explanation. Not long after leaving that school she heard an assembly was held about “how not to be racist”.

“The most traumatic thing I wish I didn’t have to experience so young was discrimination, like racism and xenophobia,” she said.

“India, as an example, is such a strange dynamic. Being Black already is completely bizarre because according to the caste system you'd naturally fall to the very bottom. There’s this very weird experience where you’re being treated like shit and the people there are sometimes nice and sometimes really awful,” she said. 

“Also, you’re not poor, because you’re there as a part of a diplomat family. So it’s like, well what the fuck is going on here?.”

The first time Thandi heard the term TCK was when she was in India. After looking it up she realised, “okay, this isn't some random cool sounding word. This makes sense”. 

“I’m not sure what or who I identify with on a cultural level. How I've experienced life is not the same as someone who's lived in Johannesburg their entire lives,” she said.

“For me, you can be a passport holder of a specific country, and not really know what it’s like to be from there, which is always very confusing.” 

Growing up, music was a culture she could relate to no matter what country she was in. She says Aotearoa was the place that showed her she could do more with music than just make it in her bedroom. 

“NZ is where I realised it can be something that becomes great. It was encouraging because you could speak to someone about RnB and they could tell you about it back. There were connections to sounds, too, like how Samoan church hymns are so close to Xhosa church hymns, or the way people sing and deliver vocals,” Thandi told VICE.

“Even surnames in South Africa – like the name Manu, it’s a name over there, but it’s also a name here. I know a Congolese person called Manu as well, so it’s stuff like that. New Zealand, for me, is where I needed to go to not feel weird anymore or different and realise there are connections that exist to home outside of home.”  

Aysha owns Auckland-based fashion brand, Schmood By Lola. She is a Nigerian born TCK who has lived in England, South Africa and New Zealand. The daughter of medical professionals, her experience as a third culture kid has allowed her the ability to switch accents at a whim. Sitting in her cosy two bedroom apartment in St Helier Bay, Auckland, she said her “accent changes easily but not on purpose”. 

“I’ve learned to be able to read rooms and speak accordingly. I’ll go from English to African then I suppose this little hybrid mix of New Zealand. As it should be. People struggle to get that here, they’re like how do you have different accents?!,” she said.

“I have to explain it’s because I lived [in those places] at a certain point in time, I was in England then South Africa, then Nigeria and right now it’s New Zealand, so how can you expect me to only be one?”

Extending her creative repertoire to hosting Afrobeat festivals in Auckland, she said the events are “diverse and full of different cultures and age groups, I’ve realised how big the market for African music is in New Zealand.”

“Black culture is just too much of an influence in this country for it not to be acknowledged. I definitely remember a time when Afrobeats wasn’t popping here. It started picking up like pre-covid and popped off during.” 

“To be African in New Zealand is really trippy. It’s interesting because people will drop the n-word left right and centre but are quiet as a mouse when it comes to the injustices. You’re taking a culture, without respect and acknowledgement to the people. I have met a few allies though.”

Hosting creative events is all part of her “education integration” plan as an entrepreneur, she said.

“Getting people to participate and interact with African cultures first hand will teach a lot of things and contribute to creating that safe space”, she said.

Aleyna Martinez is a freelance writer based in Aotearoa.