Merton Brings Her Nomadic Sensibilities to The Tonight Show

February 10, 2018 § Leave a comment

22564171153_d436e8da6e_z

Alice Merton performed on The Tonight Show last night, singing what Jimmy Fallon called “the catchiest song of the year, by far.”

I’m posting this for two reasons:

One, to show how incredibly hip and relevant I am, since I wrote about her earlier this week.

And, two, to share a joke that the junior-higher in me just made up:

Why didn’t Fallon’s house band accompany Merton when she sang on The Tonight Show?

Because wherever she goes, she makes it very clear, “No Roots!”

[photo: “Fallon Tonight,” by Edgar Zuniga Jr., used under a Creative Commons license]

Advertisements

Alice Merton Sings about Her Rootlessness—I Wonder If She Knows She’s a TCK

February 5, 2018 § 1 Comment

25505871158_a06099206f_z

A few days ago, I heard a new-to-me song on the radio on my drive home from work. As the kids on American Bandstand were wont to say, “It’s got a good beat and it’s easy to dance to” (and by “dance” I mean “tap my foot”). I liked it so well that I found it on Youtube when I got home and it’s now a standard on my playlist (and by “playlist” I mean I’ve been listening to it over and over again).

The song is “No Roots,” written and performed by Alice Merton, and the part that caught my attention was the chorus, with its, appropriately enough, “I’ve got not roo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oots! I’ve got no roo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oots!”

I figured that could mean all sorts of things but thought it sounded kind of Third-Culture-Kid-ish. Sure enough, an internet search told me that Merton’s led a life of international relocation, moving 11 (or 12) times in her 24 years. Born in Frankfort, Germany, she moved to Connecticut, with her German mother and Irish father, when she was three months old. The family later moved to Canada, and when Merton was 13, they returned to Germany—where she learned German and attended high school—followed by another move, to England. Later, on her own, she was back in Germany again, where she earned a bachelor’s degree at the Popakademie (University of Popular Music and Music Business) Baden-Württemberg. (I’m piecing this together from bios and interviews, so I apologize if the details are off. The point is, she’s moved around a lot.)

“No Roots” has done its share of globe trotting, as well, with Billboard reporting that as of August of last year, it had climbed the top-ten charts in Germany, Luxembourg, Austria, and Switzerland. And now it’s crossed the ocean to take on the pop charts in the US, hitting number-one on Billboard‘s Adult Alternative Songs airplay ranking in December.

Merton may not call herself a TCK—or an Adult TCK—but she certainly speaks the language. The lyrics for “No Roots” include

I built a home and wait for someone to tear it down
Then pack it up in boxes, head for the next town running

and

I like standing still, but that’s just a wishful plan
Ask me where I come from, I’ll say a different land

with the refrain

And a thousand times I’ve seen this road
A thousand times . . .

I’ve got no roots, but my home was never on the ground

Merton wrote her first song, “Lighthouse,” when she was a 16-year-old student in Germany. She tells Billboard that the song was born out of her homesickness. “I just didn’t feel at home in Germany at all in the beginning,” she says. “That’s why I kept on searching for this lighthouse, I guess, which would take me back to Canada.”

Years later, her nomadic life once again provided inspiration, resulting in “No Roots.” Again to Billboard, she says,

I was on the beach, and I was just thinking to myself that I have no one place where I actually feel like I’m at home. I came up with the idea of having no roots—never being grounded to a certain place, but having your home with people who you love.

Talking with Tolga Akar, in an interview for a German radio station, she says that writing “No Roots” was helpful in processing her global transitions:

Once I’ve written a song I know how I feel about something. So this whole no roots topic was this topic that was just swimming around in my head, ‘cause I just felt like I just wasn’t at home anywhere. So I guess it’s kind of like therapy, because I only really knew how I felt about not having a home after I wrote that song.

But the therapeutic effect isn’t only in the creation of the song, for Merton, it’s also in the singing. Riff Magazine asks why her feelings of rootlessness didn’t lead to a “sad ballad.” She replies,

Before I went into the studio, I knew I wanted this song to be up-tempo. This topic at the time wasn’t a happy topic for me because I felt quite lost, but I didn’t want to look back at this song and feel sad while singing it, because I needed something that reminded me that it’s OK not to feel at home in one specific place. I knew that I wanted a hooligan-like choir to chant “roots,” so that it would feel even more uplifting.

If you’re a TCK, or anyone lost and rootless, let “No Roots” remind you “that it’s OK not to feel at home in one specific place.” Sing along with Alice Merton. She’s got the words and the tune.

Or if it’s more your style, you can join the hooligan choir and holler out “Roots!”—with passion—every time it comes around.

(Kevin Rutherford,  “Alice Merton Puts Down ‘Roots’ at No. 1 on Adult Alternative Songs,” Billboard, December 20, 2017; Tatiana Cirisano, “Alice Merton’s Wanderlust Anthem ‘No Roots’ Heads to U.S. After Blowing Up in Europe,” Billboard, August 22, 2017; Tolga Akar, “Interview Alice Merton: Scandalous Pics and Real Roots!” Der Beat Von Berlin KISS FM, June 27, 2017; Roman Gokhman, “Q&A: Nomad Alice Merton Raises Anchor, Drops ‘Roots,’” RIFF Magazine, November 20, 2017)

[photo: “Alice Merton 12/11/2017 #37,” by Justin Higuchi, used under a Creative Commons license]

Seaweed, It’s Not Just for the Fishes

November 4, 2017 § 2 Comments

3421949942_e2dfb4e3e4_z

On Wednesday, while we were watching Game 6 of the World Series, I saw a commercial that featured a young girl introducing herself to her new classmates. Her parents met in Texas, she tells them, then relocated to Washington, and she was born at Fort Knox. Next came Georgia and then Korea. “Mmm,” she says, pointing to South Korea on the wall map, “Seaweed snacks.”

Her fellow students think that sounds pretty awful, but my son, who was born in Taiwan, yelled out, “See? See? I’m not the only one!”

She ends her introduction with “And now we live here for good.”

What were they advertising? I didn’t know, but I wanted to find the commercial online and watch it again. I Googled “home ad seaweed.” Google asked if I meant “home and seaweed” and showed me 5 Creative Uses for Seaweed in the Home, from Rodale’s OrganicLife: fertilizer, dietary supplement, East Asian cuisine ingredient, pet food ingredient, and beer additive. It also led me to a Wired article telling me, “This Seaweed-Covered House Is the World’s Coziest Sushi Roll” (“The primary challenge for the designers was turning an unruly weed into a consistent building material”), and The New York Times sharing that “Seaweed’ Clothing Has None, Tests Show” (“the labs found no evidence of seaweed in the Lululemon clothing”).

Thinking the commercial might be selling houses, I searched for “real estate commercial seaweed,” but that honed in on “commercial seaweed,” which gave me Grand View Research’s “Commercial Seaweed Market to Reach $22.13 Billion by 2024,” and “The Power of Seaweed, from the Wall Street Journal (“there’s growing evidence that seaweed might fit the bill as a raw material for biofuel, and one Indian entrepreneur is hoping to exploit it”).

No World Series commercial yet, but I didn’t give up. And through some combination of search terms, I found what I was looking for. The ad is from Navy Federal Credit Union and is titled “Here for Good.” I couldn’t embed it, but you can watch it at iSpot.tv.

Are you like the students in the commercial and you think that eating seaweed is more yuck than yum? Or are you like my son: “Edible seaweed? What’s not to like?” Either way, if you want to find out more about “the new potato chip,” edible seaweed (nori in Japanese, hai tai in Mandarin, or kim in Korean), take a look at KQED’s “Savoring Seaweeds: What You Need to Know before Diving In.” More options? Well Deutsche Welle would like you to know “Seaweed Wine Hits Germany’s Stores, and The Portland Phoenix wants to introduce you to “Seaweed Tea: The Next Big Drink Trend?

Of course, the chips aren’t made from potatoes, the wine isn’t made from grapes, and the tea isn’t made from tea. They’re all made from marine algae.

So, how long before you’re saying, “Mmm. Marine algae.”

[photo: “Wasabi flavored snack nori わさび风味のり,” by kattebelletje, used under a Creative Commons license]

“Lion”: As a Child, He Lost His Family, His Home, and His Country; As an Adult, He Started to Remember

August 9, 2017 § 4 Comments

2275174570_d966772089_z

Have you seen Lion? I actually hadn’t heard about the film until I saw the DVD on the “new” rack at the library. I should have heard about it, though. It didn’t win any Oscars, but it did get nominated this year in six categories, including best picture (obviously, I didn’t watch the Academy Awards).

What a powerful movie. It’s worth watching for anyone, but it is particularly relevant for those who have adopted or are contemplating adopting—especially cross-culturally—for parents with special-needs children, or for adopted children themselves.

Lion is based on the true story of Saroo, a five-year-old boy in India who is separated from his family after boarding an empty train, which takes him hundreds of miles from his home. He spends some time on the streets, is taken in by an orphanage, and ends up adopted by a couple in Australia. After growing up as their son, he begins to recall scenes from his previous life and longs to reconnect with his birth family. But “finding his way back home” is a monumental task.

The film is heartbreaking and uplifting, and not in a simple arc that leads directly from the the first to the second.

In Lion, adult Saroo is played by Dev Patel, who was nominated for an Oscar for best supporting actor. He is an impressive actor, but Sunny Pawar, who plays young Saroo. . . . he really tugs at your heart. You can get a glimpse of him in the trailer below. Listen to him call for his brother Guddu. Oh boy.

If you plan to watch Lion, you might want to hold off on the second and third videos. They tell most of Saroo’s story, so they’re full of spoilers. One is a Google Earth ad highlighting how Saroo used their product in his search. The second is from 60 Minutes.

If you watch the film, you’ll see that John and Sue Brierley adopted another boy from India, as well. His name is Mantosh. He was severely abused before joining the Brierleys, and he is a troubled soul. His real-life story, so far, lacks the bright edges of Saroo’s, and is darker inside. Ms. Brierley tells Mia Freedman, at No Filter, that Mantosh was “very upset” about how he is portrayed in the film, but she believes it necessary to show his situation realistically, not to gloss over the effects of his mistreatment—effects on him and their family. “It was important for people to see what can happen,” she says, “to face up to the terrible things that are going on, and still to this day, of course.” She adds,

The film for me, takes a lot of people deep, deep to—you know—to a place they don’t go to a lot or choose not to go to—don’t want to go to, don’t want to know about, think badly of.

. . . .

You know some of the stories I’ve had told . . . they’ve just astounded me, you know, the family stories, the things that people have felt they could say after seeing the film, admitting to troubles in their family, in their childhood. So I think it’s a worthwhile thing for people to see.

If you’d like to give towards helping the 11-million children living on the streets in India, watch the video below for information on the #LionHeart campaign.

(“Sue Brierley on what really happened to Mantosh,” interview with Mia Freedman, No Filter, April 26, 2017)

[photo: “Indian Countryside,” by Jaymis Loveday, used under a Creative Commons license]

When It’s Hard to Want to Want to Be Back [at A Life Overseas]

April 26, 2017 § 3 Comments

Our pictures are on the walls!

It’s been a year since I wrote about the long process I and my family were going through fitting back into life in the States and not yet feeling at home—still not having our pictures hung up. Since then, quite a few things have changed, and I would be remiss if I didn’t pass that on as well. I have a new job and my wife is able to stay at home, and we’ve unpacked our pictures and they’re all hanging in the house we’ve been able to buy.

We are so grateful for the ways God has helped us move forward.

But though it’s been over five years since we came back, we can’t say that the transition is completely behind us. It’s still there, just now in less obvious ways.

IMG_20170424_171754700

This post is about reverse culture stress, but it’s not about the difficulties of fitting back into a home culture or family culture or church culture. It’s about the undercurrent of feelings that flow in the opposite direction of our physical move. It’s about the difficulty of wanting to fit in. It’s about the difficulty of wanting to want to.

What are some of the things that hold returned missionaries back from pouring our whole hearts into settling in? What are the feelings—good or bad, right or wrong—that can keep us from jumping into this new chapter? Here are a few I’ve noticed. . . .

Finish reading at A Life Overseas. . . .

An Open Letter to the Kind People in My Host Country [at A Life Overseas]

February 20, 2017 § 2 Comments

518803063_75cf6d6dc1_b

Dear neighbors:

When my wife and I and our four children stepped off the plane in your country, with our 12 carry-on bags—and all our plans, enthusiasm, expectations . . . and naiveté—you welcomed us. In fact, the customs agent greeted us with a smile. And during the following years that we lived among you, we lost count of your kindnesses.

We weren’t refugees, we didn’t arrive on your shores having been forced out of our homes, we weren’t stranded. We had chosen to come. You didn’t find us naked and bloodied at the side of a road, but still you were often good Samaritans to us. When you saw us sitting on the curb, so to speak, facing roadblocks or not sure where we were headed, so many of you did not simply walk by on the other side.

For this we thank you.

To our language teachers who patiently, ever so patiently, led us through vocabulary lessons and guided us on the nuances of your culture, laughing with us but not at us, thank you.

To the food-cart vendors who listened to us practice the names of what they were selling and cheerfully rewarded us with wonderful tasting snacks and meals, sometimes putting something extra in with our order, thank you.

To the policeman who loaded up our family in his patrol car and took us home after we got lost on a walk, even though we ended up being only three blocks away from our apartment building, thank you.

And to the people near our home who didn’t think the worst of a family, who, for some reason, was riding in a police car, thank you.

Finish reading at A Life Overseas. . . .

[photo: “Post Office Shoot8,” by Bryan Pearson, used under a Creative Commons license]

On Home and Moving and Childhood Anxiety, from Jess Archer, a Voice of Experience

July 29, 2016 § Leave a comment

3183077340_f713327c6c_z

As the daughter of the director of Billy Graham’s North American crusades, Jess Archer had moved 12 times by the time she was 14—going from city to city and country to country. This, she wrote this week in Christianity Today, turned her into “the poster child for generalized anxiety disorder.”

In her article, she groups relocating during childhood with experiencing divorce and being in foster care as “major traumas” that weaken or destroy the concept of home and can lead to “serious anxiety disorders in kids.”

When it comes to describing the trauma of moving, some Third Culture Kids and some TCK parents would agree whole-heartedly; others would say they don’t understand what all the fuss is about. But can we all agree that moving produces anxiety, even if it’s not of the serious-disorder kind?

Archer goes on to give advice on how to ease our children through transitions, including preparing them, taking time to say goodbye, protecting their routines, and praying over them.

I especially like her prayer, offered for an anxious child at bedtime. I like it so much that I don’t mind that she uses the word season (just a pet peeve of mine). I like it so much that I’m praying it for my children. I like it so much I’m praying it for my wife and for myself, and for my friends in transition, too:

God of peace, this child needs rest. Her body is tense and her mind is wired. Nothing in this space feels like home. Good shepherd, loosen the knots of anxiety. Infuse her with hope of a grand design for good in her life. Show her that a new season is coming, and that you make all things new.

Amen.

You can find Archer’s post, “Too Many Transitions Can Traumatize Our Kids,” at Her.meneutics (Christianity Today, July 25, 2016). And if you’d like to read more of her thoughts on finding stability as a child in a life filled with change, go get a copy of her memoir, Finding Home with the Beatles, Bob Dylan, and Billy Graham: A Memoir of Growing Up Inside the Billy Graham Evangelistic Association (Westbow, 2015).

At her blog, Archer includes the following excerpt from her book:

What people wanted to ask me growing up the way I did was: Can you tell me what it means to have a home? They wanted to ask me, but they didn’t have the language for it, and I was only a child. They thought, How would she know? She’s just a young girl.

Instead, people asked me a standard set of questions: How many places have you lived? Which was your favorite place? Which was the worst place to live? But what they really wanted were answers for their own lives. When I said I didn’t really have a home, they shivered for themselves . . . displacement at the core of every heart. The haunting need to know a place is yours forever, but the deep fear that it isn’t. Because I didn’t have a permanent home, I wrestled better and harder than most adults with the need for one, and by the time I was a teenager I had burned through to an expanded definition.

And amen again.

[photo: “Big Pilot,” by Chris Murphy, used under a Creative Commons license]

Where Am I?

You are currently browsing the home category at Clearing Customs.

%d bloggers like this: