Hey Guys,
This is
me. RaVonne Rhodes.
I was born
in Northern Minnesota to a white, Mennonite couple. So, yes.
I have a white, Mennonite face and convictions that fall under Mennonite
standards. So to all of you who are white
Mennonites…I look just like you.
The
hardest thing for me to swallow and even say to you is that I am a white,
American, Mennonite girl. As true as it
all is, everything within me wants to be separated from that title. Let me try to explain…
When I was
six years old my family moved to a small island in the Caribbean. I went to a school where all the students’ beautiful,
dark skin made my skin look ever so pale.
My friends were my brothers and kids on our street. I distinctly remember dreaming of the day I
would live in a small village like the one we would go to for quality time with
our friends or live in a big house on a point with a beautiful view of the
ocean. That island was home and I thought
I would be there forever.
After four
years on the small island, my family moved back to Minnesota for a year to
reconnect a little before we moved to Asia.
I loved being close to my grandparents and cousins, but sometimes it was
hard. I missed all my Grenadian family
and friends.
Sixteen
months flew by and we were suddenly on a long flight to Thailand. I hated it.
I didn’t want to move there, but that is where God was calling my family.
As I look
back on those eleven years of my life, I see God working in my heart. Thailand became home and Asia was a place I
didn’t want to leave for good. After
school my brothers and I would play with other TCKs in our housing development
or with our Thai neighbor. When I turned
fifteen, I got my motorcycle license. Almost
every day my brothers would pile on the back and we would drive to school. I had to learn to balance weight on two
wheels while at the same time not allow the moving of kids to wreck our
ride. Rice and spicy food. Hours at the pool. Multiple nationalities present at church every
Sunday. Learning a foreign language and
finding ways to communicate. It was all
a part of every day life. Every day I
would find myself around people who looked nothing like me. It wasn’t awkward or weird. They would ask me why I cover my head and why
I wear skirts all the time. I struggled to
know why and even to be ok with being different all the time, but as I grew older,
I began to understand the Word of God and what He was asking of me. I would learn from my Asian friends and find
myself inspired to reach out to people around me. They used what they had to worship God. It spoke to me and changed my view of life.
Eleven
years of being in Asia and four years of being in the Caribbean made me someone
different than the culture I was born into.
I stepped
onto American soil on December 13, 2017.
To a lot of people, it looked like I was coming home. Pennsylvania hasn’t ever been home to me
before, but it’s supposed to be now. It’s
hard. Every day I find myself wondering
what new cultural thing I will learn next.
Kinda weird, right? But let’s
look at it this way…
I feel at
home in a church service with other cultures.
I feel more at home when I look different from everyone around me. When the food is spicy and English isn’t the
only language being spoken.
As white
as I may be and as Mennonite as I may look, I don’t understand American culture
or Mennonite culture. I’m learning. Every day I find myself in awe of the way
something works. It’s just like it was
when I first went to Asia. Only here I
speak the language and look like the people on the outside.
In the
past year I’ve started a relationship with a guy from my church in PA. It’s been incredible. One of the brightest parts of moving to America, actually. But it has come with challenges. Our cultures are different. We see things differently at times. It’s hard for me to stay in one place for a
long period of time and be content with it.
Thanksgiving is an interesting holiday.
Churches do odd things to figure out who is going to be on a committee
or who will be the next pastor.
Sometimes church feels formal.
I’m grateful for people who have patience to explain
things to me. For people who ask about
my life. For people who allow me to do odd
things because I don’t know what’s expected.
It’s
hard. Relationships are difficult.
But
learning is a huge part of life. Especially
for a Christian.
If we are going to share the Gospel with the people around us, like we are commanded to do, then we need to learn the culture of the people we are reaching. That's a given. So learning should be second nature.
To all
of you TCKs out there today, learn all you can.
Our lives are different and we don’t always feel understood, but we can
learn from others. We can learn about
our birth culture or our nationality’s culture just like we learned to adapt to
all those foreign cultures in the past.
The
biggest thing I’ve learned in the past few weeks is to grieve the countless losses.
Cry about
those things you miss. Shed tears over
the fact that it’s hard and it hurts. Admit
that it isn’t what you thought it would be or that people don’t get it. Find someone who understands. Let God take your pain and frustration, your
losses and disappointments. Once you’ve
allowed Him to clean the wounds, He will be able to bring healing and restore.
It’s a journey
that’s hard. But let me tell you, EVER
SO WORTH IT.
We’ve been
given a valuable gift. Be who you are
RIGHT WHERE YOU ARE. Learn all you can
and pursue Jesus Christ with everything within you. You’ll never regret it!
Sincerly,
A Third Culture Kid
