Hi, Hexagon Head!

This blog entry was inspired by my ex-colleague, Christina, who worked in public relations with me several moons ago. She saw my first Second Generation blog post and told me she studied a book called ‘Third Culture Kids’ whilst at University and that I should look it up.  So what’s a Third Culture Kid? According to the website; “... a person who has spent a significant part of his or her developmental years outside their parents’ culture. The third culture kid builds relationships to all the cultures, while not having full ownership in any.”

It would be dramatic of me to say that I was filled with such a resounding sense of belonging that the earth stood still and angels came down from heaven to welcome me into God’s house for a party. But being a second generation British Moroccan I felt a sense of relating to the description nonetheless.  I promptly bought the book from Play.com and told Christina that she should work in PR. The book is on its way, so I won’t go into its contents (yet) but the Powerpoint story of Mr Roundhead from the website struck me. I urge you to have a look at it if this interests you.

The premise? Your parents are circle-shaped ‘Roundheads’ and you’re living in square-shaped head ‘Squarehead’ land. The poor tyke trapped in the middle of these influencing groups keeps trying to become either one because they’re so confused. As a result, they become the shape in the middle – a hexagon head – not belonging to either. And your parent’s culture and the one they're living in both think the tyke's a bit wierd because they don’t look or act like them. Nice metaphor. I always likened my situation to being like a daffodil in a field of poppies, how romantic. But I am a self-confessed crap poet after all.

Ultimately though, it got me thinking about the displacement that young people can feel, characterised by a disconcerting sense of rootlessness whilst growing up. It’s something not addressed in every school – in my case, it certainly wasn’t in a Victoria Cross school in Rural Norfolk. During one’s early years, every child is (supposedly) equal. Then they read the news and books on society, class, race, identity, and so on, trying to find their place in the world. The jolt that I was a bit of a hexagon head must have come early on for me however because a kid in the playground said to me, “Are you black, or what?” I can’t actually remember this at all, in fact. But my Dad was there at the time and still thinks it’s hilarious. Not because I’m not black, but because this kid couldn’t establish why I was olive skinned with different textured hair to the remaining silky-haired cohort. He simply couldn’t find the words to express himself in the correct fashion. Also, as we all know, kids are blunt and ‘diplomacy’ has not made it into their monosyllabic vocabulary yet. They tell it how they see it, bless their smelly little cotton socks.

I could go on, but this is only blog number two after all. I’ll reel myself in for now. But I am comforted that there are other hexagon heads out there and by the fact that I can liken myself to a geometric shape. Are you a fellow hexagon head? Or do you hate the idea? Either way, feel free to comment and send me your views – I’d love to hear them.