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The Overseas Perspective: Raising a Foreign Service Kid
On the eve of his departure, I asked my son, “Do you have your diplomatic and regular passports?”
“Mom, seriously!” he replied, rolling his eyes. “I’ve done this before!”
Tomorrow, he’s flying from Moscow, our home base, to Romania with his school baseball team, and I won’t be there.
He’s right—he’s been traveling across borders since he was in sixth grade, visiting places like Dubai and Singapore without me hovering around to check his documents or find the nearest restroom. Logically, I understand he’s perfectly capable of managing this on his own, yet it’s tough to accept that my little boy can navigate the world without me.
My first airplane experience happened at 20, as a college student heading off for a semester abroad. Back then, my parents walked me to the gate at LAX and waved goodbye as I boarded. My 15-year-old, the eldest of four, has a very different upbringing. As a diplomat’s child, he holds two passports—one for international travel and another for trips back to the U.S. He flew for the first time at just 5 weeks old. I’ve lost count of how many countries he’s visited—15? 20? Yet, the thought of sending him off without me still makes me uneasy. It strips away my illusion of being able to keep him safe.
Kids in diplomatic families are unique. They can read body language better than most, a skill they develop from frequently changing schools and making friends with kids from various cultures. They tend to be well-informed about global issues; my children can identify Palestine on a map and explain its absence on others. They navigate the Moscow subway by themselves and can order falafel in Arabic, whether they’re in Amman or Jerusalem. It’s impressive, yet it also terrifies me at times.
But there are simpler things they miss out on. They can’t track their height yearly on a bedroom wall or name their best friend from ten years of school because friendships shift with every summer move. Sleepovers with grandparents and cousins aren’t an option, and skateboarding outside can be tricky due to lack of sidewalks or safety concerns.
As I watch my kids grow, I wonder: Is this lifestyle worth it? Sure, they’ve experienced amazing things—walking on the Great Wall of China, swimming in the Mediterranean, and even riding camels. They’ve met presidents and secretaries of state.
But there are darker moments too. They’ve sought refuge during embassy alarms, cried over friends moving away, and worried when their dad, a special agent with the State Department, rushed out to handle a security threat. They’ve faced schoolmates who challenged their American identity and dealt with the anxiety of watching their dad board a plane to Iraq, unsure of his return.
Is the trade-off worth it? When they’re adults, will they cherish these experiences or lament the “normal” childhood they missed?
I can’t predict their future feelings. All I know is that I’m raising smart, confident kids who will thrive in complex, multicultural environments. They don’t hesitate to jet off to Kuwait for baseball games. But I also see flawed, vulnerable children who have nightmares about losing their dad and who have learned too much about love and loss at a young age.
Now, my firstborn is leaving me. At just 15, he’s off to the airport, too far for me to swoop in and help if he gets into trouble. Sometimes, it feels like this foreign service life has made me a bit obsolete. Not long ago, he was dragging a Thomas the Tank Engine suitcase, and now he’s packed his own and is walking out the door.
While pacing the empty house, my phone buzzed.
“Mom,” the text read, “Did I need to use my diplomatic or my regular passport?”
Looks like he still needs me, after all.
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Summary
This piece reflects on the experience of raising a child in a foreign service family, highlighting both the exciting opportunities and the emotional challenges that come with such a lifestyle. The author contemplates the balance between adventure and the longing for normalcy that many diplomat kids face.