A TCK LIVING WITH UNRESOLVED GRIEF HEALS THROUGH HER MEMOIR

As the daughter of a Korean diplomat, she had a privileged global upbringing. She studied at Oxford University, then started a promising career working at a Big Four accounting firm in London.

“On paper, I had everything going for me,” she says.

But behind the scenes, Lee was suffering from depression and drinking throughout most of her twenties.

“In truth, my mental health issues started much earlier; it seemed maybe I was just born this way,” she adds.

Lee’s epiphany happened when she came across the book “Third Culture Kids: Growing Up Among Worlds.”

“I imagine many readers may already be familiar with what’s widely recognized as the TCK bible, but I’d never heard of the term ‘TCK’ before. And boy, was it eye-opening — and so validating — when I did!” Lee says.

As someone who moved countries every three years growing up, Lee was a “classic” TCK. She exhibited all the hallmark personal characteristics and relational patterns. For instance, her tendency to dive deep into friendships, which she’d always assumed was a personal quirk, proved in fact to be a TCK thing.

But there was one section in particular that really spoke to Lee: the bit about unresolved grief among highly mobile people like her.

“At first, I winced,” she says. “Grief sounded melodramatic. No one had died. But then I started to recognize the many significant losses and abrupt endings in my life that I hadn’t come to terms with, even all these years later.”

Growing up, everything changed every three years. Not only my house, school and friends but the food, the language, the culture, the climate, the color of people’s skin —everything.

And with change came loss. None of Lee’s friendships lasted over three years. Three years was their shelf life. After that, with one flight, she’d be on the other side of the world trying to make new friends. Rinse and repeat.

Lee vividly remembers saying her final goodbye to her friends in the United States when she was fourteen.

“My mom came to pick me up after our last sleepover, and I sulked in the backseat,” Lee says. “My friends huddled around, leaning into the car. They tried to hold on as my mom gently stepped on the accelerator. It was like a hearse driving away. My friends wept, and it felt like a part of me really had died.”

Although Lee’s mom would praise her for how well she adapted and how easily she made friends in each country, these losses accumulated in her and manifested themselves as the various stages of grief—denial, anger, bargaining, depression. She needed to grant herself permission to grieve, to mourn her losses, so that one day she could reach the final stage: acceptance.

For Lee, the healing process took the form of writing. As the first lockdown hit the United Kingdom in March 2020, she tried to disentangle the big mess that was her thoughts, feelings and memories and arrange them into words, sentences and paragraphs. The writing was terrible, and the timeline jumped all over the place. But none of that mattered. She just needed to get it all out.

As part of the process, Lee looked through old photos and memorabilia and was surprised to find herself crying while rereading old letters, some written to her nearly two decades ago. This was unresolved grief.

“I’m proud to say that three years on, the messy first draft has evolved into a published book, ‘Girl Uprooted,’” She says. “It’s my deeply personal story of being uprooted many times over and finding a sense of identity, belonging and home. It’s also my story of healing from unresolved grief.”

Lee’s book is available on Amazon and Barnes & Noble.

To learn more about her journey, scan the code below. cultursmag.com/a-classic-tck-living

By Hayden Greene

olite Society” is a playful romp from writer/director

Nida Manzoor, who previously directed two episodes of the new run of “Doctor Who.” The story follows Ria (Priya Kansara) and her sister Lena (Ritu Arya, last seen in “Umbrella Academy“) in England.

Ria is a bright high schooler determined to go viral for her martial arts and Lena is struggling to find herself after dropping out of art school.

When Lena suddenly is courted by the town’s most eligible bachelor, the rich and successful Salim (Akshay Khanna), Ria engages in a mission to save her sister from what she believes to be a terrible decision.

Ria enlists her two best friends and one frienemy and a battle between the motley crew and Salim’s mother, Raheela (Nimra Bucha) ensues.

The movie feels like a mix between “Kill Bill” and “Kick Ass.” It doesn’t seem to take itself seriously and the twist at the end adds to the ridiculousness of the storyline. The characters seem believable even in their unbelievable situations, and Manzoor has infused Pakistani culture throughout the film. In fact, it’s a great depiction of the immigrant story in England.

Pakistani people are the second largest ethnic minority in the United Kingdom (U.K.) The vast majority of the families originated from the Azad Kashmir and Punjab regions of Pakistan. The U.K. was a common destination for Pakistanis after World War II because of British colonization of India.

When Pakistan became independent, the country remained a member of the British Commonwealth and a small group came over to work in steel mills and as doctors to work in the National Health Service (NHS).

Growing from an initial community of 10,000 in 1951, there are now 1.5 million Pakistani-British nationals, mostly in England, with London having the highest density.

We have covered this trope in past columns: the immigrant parent with very high standards for their children.

This is a theme that runs throughout this film. We see it in the conversation about Lena going to art school as opposed to going into medicine or law. She even verbalizes it when asked about what she does. Her response is “I disappoint my parents.”

We see this repeatedly in films about Chinese moms, or African parents or any culture that was formerly colonized. The descendants must prove that they are worthy, lest they bring shame to the family name.

In “Polite Society,” the director seems to poke fun at this idea, but the reason the wedding is a big deal is that it raises Lena’s profile, and therefore the family status. It causes them to cast a blind eye to the red flags. All except Ria.

During one scene, Raheela mentions Ria’s menstrual cycle in front of Salim, mortifying Ria. Raheela encourages her to be comfortable talking about her body and its biology (we later find out that Reheela and Salim are very interested in women’s biology).

It’s a plot vehicle for the movie, but it’s a genuine issue for women around the world to discuss their bodies freely and what’s happening to them.

We have covered this trope in past columns: the immigrant parent with very high standards for their children.

The conversation ranges from the economics of menstrual items to female circumcision in certain countries, which is still current practice. Manzoor seems to reiterate that when you demystify women’s health, you lessen the chances for atrocious medical practices.

Eunice Huthart, the woman that Ria idolizes, is a real-life stuntwoman. A world-class level Judo fighter, she was a contestant on a show called “Gladiators” and was the only U.K. woman to go from contestant to gladiator, assuming the name Blaze.

Afterward, Huthart pursued a career as a stunt woman working on films such as “GoldenEye,” “Titanic” and “The Fifth Element.” She rose through the ranks and became the stunt coordinator for “Alice in Wonderland,” “V is for Vendetta,” and “The Rise of Skywalker.”

• Someone describes Lena as “looking very pale and not in a good way,” which is a hint of colorism among formerly colonized nations. European pigmentation is considered to be more desirable, causing darker-skinned members of society to be shunned and discriminated against.

• We see matchmaking referred to often in the movie and one could argue the twist in the end is the ultimate attempt at matchmaking. Arranged marriages are still very common in Asian and African countries.

• The soiree at Raheela’s house is the celebration of Eid, which marks the end of Ramadan, a month of fasting for Muslims.

• Salim is the ultimate mama’s boy, but we love this line: “Behind every successful man is a tired mother!”