Social Anxiety in a Collectivist Culture

Our son Caleb has struggled with social anxiety for a long time.  I use the word "struggle," but there've been days (and sometimes still are) when he's wrestled, battled, waged war, succumbed, or been all-out defeated by his social anxiety.  It's been a defining part of our parenthood journey as well as a defining part of our cross-cultural life.

We started seeing signs of social anxiety when Caleb was just 2 years old, but we didn't understand what was happening at the time.  We thought he was a difficult toddler and he'd simply phase out of it.  But he didn't phase out of it, and by the time he was 3 the struggle had increased, and it peaked at age 4 with several scenarios in which he was completely debilitated by the social situation he found himself in.  I have too many memories of our son falling apart, sobbing out of control, and literally hiding under tables or under beds or in the folds of my skirt in order to escape the social situation that was causing him stress.

Most of us feel like hiding from a social situation sometimes, but the picture below shows what our son actually did during the height of his social anxiety.  I laugh at it now (because it's so ridiculous), but the reality is that his 4-year-old self didn't know how else to cope with social anxiety any other way.  Hiding was his best strategy.

The onset of this particular struggle was distressing to us not only because our son was clearly unwell but because this was something he would have to work through and figure out in order to live life.  Most people can excuse a young child hiding under the table, but he will not be a child forever and neither will the hiding strategy be excused forever.  

Caleb's social anxiety was also distressing because by the time he was 3, we were headed overseas to live in a collectivist culture.

Our own American culture is individualistic.  We give priority to individuals - to their wants, needs, opinions, etc.  It's okay, if not applauded, for someone to stand out from the crowd.  It's okay to not participate in something if you don't want to.  It's okay to spend time alone and be a quiet introvert.

Conversely, collectivist cultures (like Kenya) give priority to the group.  People choose to align themselves with a group because there's strength in the group.  People find their identity in the group and will form group opinions and not separate themselves unless there's some drastic reason to.  People stand together (even literally) and don't feel the need to have space from each other.  The herd mentality is strong.  If someone starts an activity (like singing or dancing), others tend to join in.  People spend almost all of their time with other people because no one wants to be alone.

As you can imagine, living in a collectivist culture can feel like a nightmare for someone with social anxiety.

I once joked with a Kenyan friend that I'd never met an introverted Kenyan and she surprised me by saying, "Oh, my brother is an introvert."  It was the first I'd heard of introversion here and I was a bit relieved to know there were people here who could identify with some of our own introverted ways.  But then my friend said, "He liked to be by himself a lot as a child and was very quiet.  Everyone thought there was something wrong with him."

And I again found myself confronted with our old nemesis, Parental Distress, because it seemed to remain true that the average Kenyan does not understand people who like to spend time by themselves let alone someone with a distinct aversion to group gatherings.  Therefore, it also seemed to remain true that the average Kenyan does not understand our son whose behavior is rather un-average in this cultural context.

Our son Caleb has always needed extra space and time to adjust to social situations, especially in a new place with new people.  When Caleb displays signs of this need (such as distancing himself from others), a typical Kenyan interpretation is that he's shy.  And if someone in Kenya is shy, the appropriate Kenyan response is to come closer to them and encourage them to participate in the group because, the thought goes, being in the group is the best and safest place to be.

That thinking, however, is directly opposed to what Caleb thinks and feels.  Having strangers get in Caleb's face and tell him to come, come, come, while also putting an arm around him to physically direct him where they think he should go - well, let's just say it has never gone over very well.

He would cry, shake his head no and physically try to escape from their touch.  So they would try harder to bring him into the group, which made him resist harder, and we quickly had a dramatic scene on our hands.

Basically, everyone thought there was something wrong with him.

But there is nothing wrong with our son.  He has a weakness, to be sure, and needs help in managing his social anxiety and learning coping strategies for stressful social situations, but there is nothing wrong with him.

Interestingly, there were many times when I'd watch in frustration as a Kenyan tried to interact with my son who clearly did not understand or appreciate his need for space and I would think to myself, "What is wrong with you?"

I would allow myself to think there was something wrong with a Kenyan for behaving that way toward my child because, from my cultural lens, needing space is okay.  Wanting to be alone is okay.  Not wanting to participate in a group activity is okay.

From a Kenyan cultural lens, however, needing space is strange and perhaps unhealthy.  Wanting to be alone marks you as odd.  Not wanting to participate in a group activity just means you need more people to gather around you and encourage you to participate and then you and everyone will be okay.

Our son does not fit into a typical Kenyan framework.  He is misunderstood by almost every Kenyan who meets him.  Our usual explanation is to say that he's shy, because people can at least understand a shy person.  But the reality isn't that Caleb is shy - it's that he struggles with social anxiety.  There isn't a frame of reference for that here, however.

So our son's struggle has been our struggle too.  We've fought for him to have the time and space needed in new situations.  We've let him stay outside when visiting someone's home for the first time, and we've excused him from participating in group activities, and we haven't forced him to greet strangers.

But we've also worked and worked and worked to help him grow in this area so it won't be such a struggle.  We've brought him to places that were new to him while assuring him that he could stick close to us the whole time.  We've made him attend birthday parties even though he didn't play all the games or sing along with the rest of the kids.  We've expected him to greet people he already knew.  We've stretched him as far as we could without breaking him, and when he grows comfortable with something, we've stretched him again.

And that beautiful boy of ours has grown so incredibly much.  I will never forget the time he joined me on an errand and a stranger greeted him and asked his name, and without any hesitation or prompting on my part, Caleb answered the man as if it was an everyday occurrence for him to respond in such a way.  My mouth nearly dropped open.  I could hardly believe it was our kid who said that.

And I will never forget the day he walked into a house in the village without hesitation or any discomfort.

And I will never forget the day he shook the tambourine as we caroled around the wards of the hospital with a big group of people and liked it.

And I will never forget the day he participated in a relay race and then wanted to do it again.

And I will never forget the day he started clapping along to the songs in Sunday School like all the other kids were doing.

Our son has come so far.  Caleb has grown by leaps and bounds with his social anxiety and we know he will grow continually because God has proven Himself faithful to bless and help our son.  In the moments when he's still struggling and it's obvious that Kenyans are confused by him, I find myself wishing I could shout, "But he's come so far!  You have no idea!"  Which is true.  But getting someone to understand why our son is the way he is or trying to explain how far he's come from the days of hiding under tables isn't the end goal.  The end goal is recognition of and adoration for what God has done, whether anyone else knows it or not.  As Caleb's parents, who have been with him throughout this entire journey of social anxiety, we have been front-row witnesses to his struggles and subsequent victories, to God's grace and God's deliverance.

We've also become more aware of how deeply ingrained our cultural worldviews are and what we consider to be "right" or "wrong" until we stop and think about things from another cultural perspective.  What is true of Caleb's social anxiety - "He's come so far!" - I hope is also true of us as his parents.  I hope it can be said that we've come so far from when we first landed in this country - in our understanding of the culture surrounding us and in our ability to live our days filled with grace and growth.

That is the end goal.  Not to declare "We've done it!" but rather to say "We've come so far!" and to give glory to God along the way.