Come find me over here:
https://whatsantjereading.blogspot.com/
Reading
For Better Posture, World Peace, and Improved Dentition.
Fiction, Poetry, Drama. The term itself is defined in this blog's first post: "What is Third Culture Literature?"
Come find me over here:
https://whatsantjereading.blogspot.com/
For Better Posture, World Peace, and Improved Dentition.
Among other things, I have been writing fiction.
Slow Time is published by spuyten duyvil press.
It is TCL in a way similar to Pearl S. Buck's The Good Earth in that it presents a kind of fantasy of belonging, of being claimed by a place. It does have a military brat character. Also, were I to analyze it as though I had not written it myself, it does bear many of the hallmarks of third culture literature, even when third culture literature doesn't seem to be about traveling.
Buy it here: https://www.spuytenduyvil.net/slow-time.html
I was very fortunate to present with Dr. Jessica Sanfilippo-Schulz in a talk for the World Food Programme's Family Liaison Outreach Community (FLOCK). Our work was on TCK and CCK memoirs.
Here are some of the books I spoke about and some I would have spoken about if I had had more time:
I started with Salman Rushdie's Imaginary Homelands (1981), which is essays not memoir per se. The titular essay, "Imaginary Homelands" has some lovely lines about geographic and temporal distance meaning that what is remembered as "home" is actually fictional. Rushdie is not strictly TCK, though definitely multiply displaced (India, Pakistan, The UK, years in hiding from the fatwa, the United States).
I paired him with Michael Ondaatje's family history Running in the Family (1982)--for Ondaatje, trying to piece memories together requires collaboration. Ondaatje is TCK (former Ceylon, now Sri Lanka, UK, Canada).
Akwaeke Emezi's memoir Dear Senthuran (2021) considers the result of multiple moves (nothing and no one seems real after a while). Here (as in their autobiographical novel Freshwater), Emezi is interested in the psychology of ogbanje. Their work makes me feel as though my brain is melting . . . a good thing in small doses. Emezi is Malaysian/ Sri Lankan/Nigerian/ American.
I ended with some words from Pico Iyer (card-carrying TCK). His Global Soul (2000) is iconic in writing about travel and dislocation.
And finally, Aminatta Forna's The Devil that Danced on Water (2002). I suspect her very recent The Window Seat would have excellent material too.
Ideally, especially for the World Food Programme audience, I would have liked to consider a couple of TCK travel narratives, perhaps jumping off from the award winning blogs listed on this site and my own work from years ago on that topic. Something I have yet to investigate is TCKs in international aid writing memoirs. I know those must exist, but haven't put the work into hunting them down yet. I can recommend non-TCK Jessica Alexander's Chasing Chaos: My Decade In and Out of Humanitarian Aid (2013) as an interesting starting point in that genre.
And what about Ottessa Moshfegh's amazing Homesick for Another World (2012). Short stories. Love them. Why have I not written about them yet?
In the FLOCK talk, I plugged my own book. Here it is:
It deals with seventeen TCK fiction writers, and has a good bibliography (c. 2013).
Gerald Durrell My Family and Other Animals was one of my favorite books when I was ten.
“Third Culture Kid” and the Literary World
Date: Friday, June 4, 2021
Time: 60 minutes. 9:00am EDT (New York) / 1:00pm GMT (Accra) / 3:00pm CEST (Vienna) / 9:00pm SGT, AWST (Singapore & Perth)
Location: Online (via Zoom)
Cost: FREE. Open to all.
Join the FIGT Research Network for a discussion on the ‘Third Culture Kid (TCK)’ concept and research with Dr. Antje Rauwerda.
I need “TCK” in my work. Do you need it in yours?
“TCK” catches an experience of displacement that is usually invisible in Literary Studies.
As a college professor in a Literary Studies major, I spend a lot of time thinking about authors like Michael Ondaatje, Ian McEwan and Barbara Kingsolver: each of these is a TCK, but they are marketed as Canadian, British and American. If their novels get taught in university courses, they are grouped with the novels of other Canadian, British and American writers. Focusing on the passport nationalities of these authors in marketing and teaching leaves out a great deal about the internationalism, dislocation and other TCK experiences they share.
The TCK experiences of the authors result in some surprising thematic similarities in their fictions, but without “TCK” as a term, there isn’t really any way for me to analyze how their novels are similar.
My discipline has highly theorized analytical terms like (im)migrant, diaspora, transnational, global, postcolonial, borderland, and liminal, but these do not capture the experience of spending one’s developmental years outside one’s passport nation.
My presentation will first offer a brief and utilitarian description of some of the words used for internationalism in my field, with an emphasis on how they overlap with and differ from our construction of “Third Culture Kid.” (I will provide a take-away glossary.)
I was recently at Transnational Literature's "Follow the Sun" Conference. I was on a Third Culture panel (organized by Jessica Sanfilippo Schulz) with Jessica, and with Anastasia Goana (the dream team: we have paneled together before. I hope we get to again). "At" of course means "on zoom". Look! Here we are (Anastasia for the photo credit):
Zoom notwithstanding, the conference did what conferences are--at their best--supposed to do. It stimulated thought/ exposed me to new ideas/ made me want to weep gratefully that other people out there in the world think that some of these issues are interesting too.
I gave a paper on Third Culture and how it could function as a kind of nationality (nods to Benedict Anderson and Joanna Yoshi Grote, as well as Danau Tanu's work, which got me thinking along these lines in the first place). I went on a bit of a tear about academia and methodological nationalism within our disciplines (which tend to be defined in terms of nation and so, even if our institutions like the hipness of "transnational" and boundary-crossing terms, these same organizations that fund our research and employment are stubbornly resistant to them). And . . . I wrapped up with some consideration of privilege, the problem of relegating host countries to mere backdrops, and shame.
Bambo Soyinka, who is sharp and articulate, and a pleasure to spend time thinking with, said of our panel as a whole that the issues of shame, denial and privilege kept surfacing. Did they always have negative connotations, Bambo asked.
My answer was no. In fact, I think turning to look those issues in the face is precisely where positive insights will emerge. I want to write more about this. I am, vaguely, beginning to cook a piece that deals with Jane Alison's The Sisters Antipodes and Sisonke Msimang's Always Another Country and the question of adult perspectives on a childhoods of comparative privilege.
In what I have so far on the question of shame, in a longer-playing article on TC Nationalism that I can't seem to get published, I quote Tanu's interview of an adult TCK dubbed "Afra"who grew up in Algeria. That adult says of their childhood during times of political unrest, "I miss the riots." Tanu notes that "some TCKs speak of developing countries as though their poor economic conditions or sociopolitical unrest were like adventure rides." Oof, right? At first, that TCK interviewee sounds like a bit of a jerk, except that what they really said had a specific intonation: "'I miss the riots,' said Afra, 'with knowing humor.'"
Stop the train: that "knowing humor" changes everything. 'Afra" misses the riots (they miss their childhood home and its conditions), but Afra knows it is ridiculous, crazy, wrong, privileged, shameful, to say such a thing.
My contention is that the adult perspective on privileged childhood experience is something TCK scholars absolutely HAVE to deal with. Here (from the article I haven't yet published), is why I think so:
What do you think? Jessica Sanfilippo Schulz (who is quite the power-house in third culture literary work these days) wrote this to me in an email: By the way, regarding the comment about shame/guilt of last week, it is a recurrent theme in the four texts I have analysed (PhD thesis). As you illustrated, it is something that seems to occur retrospectively in adulthood. My first four chapters examine life writing written in adulthood and shame and guilt is always there, TCKs and refugees. BUT: in chapter 5 I explore life writing written by youth, and so far, I haven't come across shame and guilt much. Just at the beginning of one Vlog entry I am looking at and I am currently wondering how to tackle it / label it / explain it. I am writing the final chapter right now and will keep an eye on this theme. Another thing that I have noticed is that shame and guilt (so far the texts I have read) are only noticeable in texts by women. I haven't come across it in any of the other texts I have read by men. I therefore think that when it comes to looking at Jane Alison, you might want to compare the text with a memoir written by a man.