Finding Home as a Third-Culture Kid

Being a third-culture kid isn’t always easy. We may now fully embrace the moniker and carry it proudly as a badge of our multicultural upbringing and global perspective, but for children and teenagers still grappling with questions about their identity, the experience can be mired in confusion and complexities. 

Perhaps no one understood this better than Bastiaan Spil (Class of 1999), who was born in the Netherlands, moved to Indonesia as a toddler, and for most of his formative years, attended an English-speaking school surrounded by a melange of nationalities and cultural backgrounds. It wasn’t until years later, as a confident, eager entrepreneur filled with ambitions, that he was able to appreciate his journey as a third-culture kid. 

Today, Bastiaan is the founder and creative director of Elements Concept, a producer and distributor of handcrafted, minimalist furniture greatly inspired by the legacy of Indonesian craftsmanship and artisanal traditions. While he now sees the stepping stones leading up to this moment as foundational to his success, the path they created wasn’t always smooth.

“I was struggling with identity and the question of ‘Where do I belong?’” he recalls. “I wasn’t quite Dutch, I wasn’t Indonesian — I felt kind of lost. I mean, JIS was a great school, but I also felt kind of lost at that age, going through puberty, longing to be part of a group, part of a clan or a tribe. I just couldn’t figure out where I was at, and I was an only child as well, so I didn’t have any brothers or sisters to relate to or share that experience.”

After graduation, Bastiaan moved to the Netherlands to study economics. Still longing for that elusive sense of identity and belonging, he thought he would find both in his “home country”. He would soon discover, however, that the transition wouldn’t be as seamless as he had hoped.

“It was like reverse culture shock: I had lived in Indonesia all my life, and then I went back to what was supposed to be my home country. In my mind, [the Netherlands] was like the Promised Land,” he explains with a chuckle. “It was a rather immature, childish idea: ‘When I go back home, it’s gonna be all the things that I expect to have, all the things that I’m kind of missing.’”

Without realizing it, Bastiaan would tap into the vast reserve of resilience that third-culture kids are more than familiar with. He adapted and persevered, making lifelong friends while completing a degree in economics. And while he was happy to finally have “that piece of paper in my pocket”, he couldn’t shake the question: Now what? What’s next?

For one, he decided to see more of the world, embarking on an adventure that included a motorcycle road trip from Utah in the United States all the way down to the south of Morocco.

“A friend and I made that trip on a very small motorcycle, like a moped, going 40 kilometers per hour. It took one and a half months! We tried to get back, but the motorcycles broke down completely,” he laughs. “That was the first time that I really entered the world — it was complete freedom. That was a beautiful chapter. I realized there was so much to discover out here.”

What also came next was a pivot to art school, following a passion for drawing Bastiaan had fostered since his childhood days in Jakarta and JIS. This new creative path, instead of clashing with his economics background, opened his eyes to future possibilities combining his artistic and entrepreneurial sides. It also led him back to Indonesia, where his parents were still running a successful business designing and producing accessories and small furniture for a well-known Dutch company. 

The decision to pulang kampung triggered childhood memories of being “surrounded by accessories and boxes full of furniture. I remember making a labyrinth with the boxes; it was a cool, cool way of creating my own world.”

Little did young Bastiaan know that his fantastical labyrinth adventures would foreshadow a bright future in furniture and interior design.

“I joined [my mother’s] company, I started designing products. I engaged with many different customers. I was rediscovering Indonesia and, I guess, myself in that way. I soon realized I wanted to do my own thing.”

And so, in 2016, he launched Elements Concept, seamlessly blending modern aesthetics with Indonesian craftsmanship to offer a stylish range of home decor. What began as a small retail venture has grown into an international brand, with Element’s handcrafted pieces furnishing luxury locations like Potato Head Beach Club in Bali, Kilo Lounge in Singapore, and Iconic Hotel in Mykonos.

Now, Elements Concept focuses on export and custom orders, working with hotels, restaurants, and cafes worldwide. But beyond business success, Bastiaan’s journey has led him to a deeper realization about identity and belonging — themes he grappled for so long to understand.

“I learned that [one’s identity] is not given to you; you need to build it yourself. Anything you want, you have to create yourself. If you want friendships, you need to invest in the people around you, you need to spend time with them, do fun things, pay attention to their needs, and build up good friends around you — that is the family that you build up. If you want a home, you have to build one.”

Is he still searching for a sense of identity? He pauses, then lingers in a moment of silence that is both comfortable and poignant. His smile, meanwhile, speaks to the self-assuredness of someone who has embraced the complexities of his upbringing.

“I’m not looking for that anymore. I guess at a certain age, you accept that these things are also inside of you. You accept that identity is not black and white; identity is such a complex spectrum of things. If you always think that you’re like a strange creature and you’re like an alien, then it’s always going to be strange," he says. "But if you accept that complex spectrum, treasure it, and recognize the value of having a different perspective on life and having different backgrounds, you have a broader viewpoint of the world — and that is very powerful. It has given me a lot of freedom."

Looking back, he wouldn’t change a thing.

“I’m very proud that I have embraced that whole part of my youth, also all the struggles that come along with it — with identity and with finding a home. And I’ve embraced everything, and I’ve created a life that I’m extremely happy with. I’m very happy.”