How NOT to talk to an MK: a helpful guide

Some of the most difficult aspects of being a “missionary kid” are visiting churches and talking to people you have never met, or who you knew a long time ago and now have to pretend you remember who they are. This is always incredibly awkward, especially if the person asks really weird questions. I wanted to write this to try to… well, express how someone’s attempts to converse may be, um, well, appreciated. Quite a few are for people my own age (in previous years and now).

1. If you’re someone at our church who I haven’t seen in two years, here’s a couple things the really should remember:
2. I have heard how grown up and beautiful I am about 50 times already by the time you come up and say that. Thank you for the compliment, but if I don’t look too enthusiastic it’s because I’m a little tired of feeling examined and being commented on. I don’t mind it from someone we are friends with, but if I don’t know you very well it’s kind of creepy. Just ask someone who grew up as a military brat, too.
3. If you’re not a close friend or someone I would obviously have to know, please please please introduce yourself before you give me a hug and start interrogating me. It’s been too long for me to automatically put your face with your name! Introduce yourself before you go about touching me.
4. If you don’t know me, then when you find out I live in Africa, don’t stare at me with your mouth hanging open like a fish, or look at me like “woah, what’s up with THAT? How weird!”. That gets old. Fast. Even if you know absolutely nothing about Africa, you could still say: “Oh really? Wow, where in Africa?” Or, if I say I live in Uganda without explaining where that is, you could just nod and say “I’m not quite sure where that is” as opposed to “UGANDA??? Where the **** is THAT???”
5. If the last thing you heard about Uganda was Idi Amin’s regime, then ask something about political stability, don’t try to give me a lecture on Idi Amin, or ask if he’s still in power. I’ll just laugh. Hysterically.
6. “Do you like living in Uganda?” is one that is almost sure to make me want to poke a hot knitting needle through you. Honestly, it’s not that simple. “What do you think about it” is also really tough, but I guess it’s better, if you absolutely have to ask. Otherwise, you could just ask about school, other questions about life, and talk to me like you would any other teenager/kid and then figure out for yourself. Seriously, people, that question became unanswerable when I was, well, 12. Whether you mean to or not, that puts a lot of pressure on me to answer “yes, of course”. I’d much rather be asked something which I could answer with “it has its ups and downs but generally it’s a positive experience”. Really, you shouldn’t expect me to answer yes or no to a question like that, especially because a lot of you just don’t understand the complexities we deal with.
7. What’s even worse with that kind of question is how you respond to my answer. If I say “well, it has it’s challenges, but it’s mostly good”, you may ask what the challenges are. If I start to talk about them, your response is often “well, at least it’s a great experience for you. You know so much more than people your age in the States”. I know it’s a great experience. I know it’s a great country. I know that I don’t fit in with people in the US. And when you say something like that, it makes it seem like I have to be all happy go lucky all the time, and not ever admit that it gets difficult at times.
8. Another question that people in the US tend to ask which drives me up the wall is “Do you speak any African?”. What’s even worse is having an older person that you respect (or at least that you should respect) say “I’m sure you’re just fluent in the language by now, aren’t you?” I honestly wish that I had thought, when I was younger and cuter and was asked this kind of question more, to answer with “No, but I go to an international school and I can insult you in five different languages” (okay, it’s a bit of a stretch, but a quick message on facebook and I could find out those insults).
9. The hardest one that tends to come up is: “What is your mission there?”, or some other version of that. Missions are great. I have lived and breathed missions for most of my life at this point. But when you ask what my mission is, I don’t know how to answer. I’m a 17 year old girl who loves guitar, music, coffee, academic challenges, and service projects. I had been running an Invisible Children project at school, which was always my answer to that question, but that died this year for multiple reasons. I don’t have an answer to that question that I don’t feel means I’m not living up to expectations. Right now I’m going to focus on being a teenager and getting the grades I want. I don’t have to have a specific “mission” right now. Actually, my “mission” is being and becoming the person I want to be. Please don’t ask me something that causes me to feel that because I’m an MK normal teenage goals are not good enough.
10. DON’T EXPECT ME TO BE PERFECT! I may be tired, frustrated, or anything else. Please don’t expect me to smile perfectly, behave way beyond my maturity level, or fulfill your expectations of what an MK should behave like. That’s just plain not fair to me. Just remember I’m 17 (or whatever age I am), not a 40 year old incredible world saving missionary.

Finally, here’s an example of how a really major fail of a conversation with someone goes (no offense to the lady if she reads this, hopefully after reading the whole thing you will understand why this is frustrating?)…

This nice lady walked up to me on Sunday while I was on my own, gave me a big hug, and said “Oh, it’s so great to see you, you’re so grown up!”

I replied “Oh wow, thank you, it’s great to see you too!” though I had no earthly clue who she was.

Then she asked me: “So what are you doing with your mom in Uganda? Friendship evangelism?”

“Yes.”

“That’s great that you have your mission. Do you like it over there?”

“Yes.”

“How long will you be there?”

“I have one more year, then I come back for college.”

“College already?”

“Yes.”

“ You’re so grown up already! You used to be so young and small!”

After the whole conversation I still didn’t know who she was. If she had introduced herself, it probably would have gone a lot better.