Nowadays there are labels for every personality type, preference, orientation, and anything else you can think of. People keep claiming to hate labels, but they keep coming up with more. I personally hate generalizations--I don’t like to box people into one label or category and assume that’s all there is to them. But I tend to find labels helpful, especially in understanding myself.
For example, I am an introvert. I had never even heard of such a thing until a few years ago, but once I read that first article about introverts, I immediately understood myself better. I have so many things to say, but I’ve always hated talking to people. When I was a kid, we just called that being shy. It was something to overcome. And I failed miserably at it. “Just talk to them!” My mom would say, “It’s not hard.” But it terrified me. Even though I could write for hours and email people novels, I just couldn’t make my mouth work. Turns out, a lot of people are like that. While I have learned to talk to people, I have never fully overcome the fear. I find excuses not to hang out with people because I can’t do small talk. Facebook is my dream come true--I can keep in touch with people without ever seeing them face-to-face.
Third Culture Kid is another label that helped me understand myself. I’m an American, but I was raised in Singapore. I lived in Singapore from the time I was 4 until I was 19 and left for college. I don’t fully fit in either culture so I’m what is referred to as a third culture kid, and I will be one no matter how old I get.
Possibly the most applicable label for me right now is that of Hidden Immigrant. When I lived in Singapore, I was obviously an immigrant. I was a blond-haired, blue-eyed kid who stuck out like a sore thumb. People would cross the street to touch my hair. I was asked more than once if someone could pull out some of my hair for a scavenger hunt. I was not expected to fit in. But in America, I look like everyone else. For the most part, I talk like everyone else. Everyone else expects me to think like them, to be fully American. But I’m not. I’ll never fully fit in even if I never leave America again. I am a hidden immigrant, always on the outside even while being on the inside.
