44 OCTOBER 2023 | THE FOREIGN SERVICE JOURNAL The cover of the Cairo American College 1963 yearbook (inset) features the driveway lined by royal palms leading to the front entrance to the school, a former palace previously occupied by Princess Hanezada and her family, situated in Cairo’s leafy suburb of Maadi. COURTESY OF JOHN R. WHITMAN pharaohs. One of us volunteers to present a “Cackle” (derived from the “Cairo American College Kick-off Lecture”), which is a short talk about one’s current personal or professional activities or a reflection on our time in Egypt or other, more current world events. After opening chatter, the Cackle lasts about 20 minutes, followed by Q&A or general discussion. The sessions begin at 8:30 a.m. Eastern Standard Time to accommodate those living in time zones extending from Japan to Europe. Sessions are recorded for the benefit of those who miss an event. Every Cackle has enriched us. Some have led to followup email transactions and a deeper dive informed by further research. So far, we have shared taking pilgrimages in Spain and Italy, observing elections in Bosnia, living life as an astrologer with an internet following, and being an American journalist in Berlin, Bonn, Hong Kong, Moscow, New York, Rome, and Warsaw during or after the Cold War. We have enjoyed Cackles recounting the flight of Norwegian royals to London to escape the Nazis, on learning to become an Egyptologist, the importance of learning a second language, the psychosocial characteristics of TCKs navigating the conflicts between the culture of their foreign experiences and that of their home countries, the identity challenges of being an adopted TCK, the demise of academic standards in leading universities, and the rigor required to learn from the literature of the Ottoman Empire. And we have discussed lifelong lessons from experiencing childhood trauma, enduring the devastation of drugs and rootlessness, and more. Connecting as Grown TCKs This contrived reassembly of once-carefree boys and girls has become an important part of our lives. Some of us are compelled to attend the meetings regularly, and even those too busy to join want to stay tuned. We wondered why, and we put the question to our colleagues. Here are some of their responses. I was born in Scotland to Polish parents, moved to the United States as an infant, and rarely stopped moving since. Soon after my father became an American citizen, he joined the U.S. Information Service (USIS), serving as a press attaché in Cairo, Seoul, and Paris where I attended American schools—all of which made my subsequent life as a foreign correspondent feel very natural. The initiative by some of my Cairo schoolmates to reconnect so many years later brought back a flood of memories, not just of Egypt but of other postings: riding horseback by the pyramids, getting my first exposure to tear gas while observing South Korean students protesting against the regime of military strongman Park Chung Hee, and celebrating the end of my senior year at the American School of Paris prom at the Eiffel Tower. My father, who often handled the programs of prominent American visitors, introduced me to the likes of Louis Armstrong and Robert Kennedy. All those experiences felt almost normal until I returned to the United States on our home leaves or, later, to attend college. I quickly realized that I could not casually sprinkle in such stories without looking like I was showing off to my new acquaintances, COURTESY OF JOHN R. WHITMAN
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