Grieving and Transition

Afrikaners & Other Racial Minorities from South Africa to the USA 🇺🇲 
Jonathan Michael Biddlecombe
 
Grieving and Transition
 
Nearly 30 years ago, in 1997, my wife, our two young children, and I left Cape Town and moved to Dallas, USA. We arrived as students, but this move had been carefully planned long before our departure. In preparation, we sold our home in Muizenberg, cashed in our pension and savings, and let go of most of our furniture and possessions.
This period was marked by deep grieving. Although we loved our home country and wanted to stay, the political and social changes unfolding at the time—following the ANC’s rise to government—were increasingly concerning. We came to realize that, for the sake of our children and their future, South Africa would no longer support the life dreams we held for our family.
 
We sought professional counseling, which was immensely helpful in guiding us through the emotional process of leaving. I share this because, amid the planning, excitement, and sheer exhaustion of preparing for such a massive move, emotional pain and grief are often overlooked. It is vital to recognize and acknowledge one’s emotions, vulnerability, and limits.
 
As a husband and father, I felt responsible for holding everything together: supporting my wife and children, managing passports and paperwork, planning resettlement, arranging studies for my wife and myself, enrolling the children in new schools, securing transport, finding a safe place to live, and constantly thinking ahead. In the midst of all this, it is essential to talk—either with one another or with someone trustworthy—about fears, anxieties, dreams, regrets, concerns, and hopes. Often, one is not seeking answers, only a listening ear while processing the past, the present, and the uncertain future.
 
My wife and I would spend hours simply talking through everything. Our children carried their own stresses: leaving their school, home, friends, and—most painfully—extended family such as cousins, aunts, uncles, and grandparents. A completely new and insecure chapter opened for them. Children are far more perceptive than we often realize; they absorb parental stress, uncertainty, and fear. A new environment, new clothes, a different climate, culture, and accent all contribute to their insecurity.
 
From a psychological and spiritual perspective, our faith played a central role. We have a strong belief in God, and we trusted that He was guiding our steps. While this may not be everyone’s experience, it was ours. Doors opened for us in remarkable ways. Despite very real human emotions, fears, and struggles, we believed our ultimate source and provision came from God.
We planned as best we could, but ultimately had to release control and entrust our efforts to a higher power.
 
The journey was not easy. We were initially very much on our own, without family nearby. However, we soon made friends, and people gathered around us to help us settle into what felt like a strange and unfamiliar culture. Although the United States is vast and diverse, its culture differs significantly from South African culture. Managing expectations—about friendships, communication, social norms, and relationships—was one of the most challenging aspects. This became a steep and humbling learning curve.
 
Historically, South Africans in the U.S. were sometimes known for projecting superiority or dogmatism. Adapting to a new culture required humility and openness. Thirty years later, as more South Africans arrive as refugees, I sincerely hope—and believe—that this transition will be met with a more humble and gracious spirit.
 
Despite the hardships, I want to emphasize that America and its people are generous, kind, and filled with goodwill. Each state is different. Living in the Midwest South, we have experienced exceptional friendliness and kindness. Moving to the United States was the best decision my wife and I ever made for our family.
 
For those arriving now—especially those on state medical assistance—I strongly encourage engaging in individual or family therapy. Not because something is “wrong,” but simply to talk things through with professional support, guidance, and encouragement. This helps bridge emotional gaps between partners and children and aids in understanding cultural and relational expectations. Ignoring these issues and hoping everything will simply work out often leads to greater strain later.
 
If you are faith-based, I also recommend finding a place of worship—a church or synagogue—where you can meet people, build friendships, and receive spiritual encouragement. The first few months to a year will likely be the most difficult, as everything is new. Even though we speak the same English language, words, expressions, and meanings can differ significantly.
 
Make an effort to form friendships with Americans rather than limiting yourself to fellow South Africans, however tempting that may be. Building relationships across cultures accelerates integration and understanding. This move is a life-altering decision that will affect nearly every aspect of your life. Thankfully, most South Africans adapt quickly and successfully.
 
Always remember why you left South Africa and what led you to become a refugee. America is a country built by immigrants, and those who work hard and integrate are welcomed and supported. As more South Africans migrate to the United States, we welcome you. Place God first in all your ways, hold your immediate family close, and allow yourself to relax and trust the process. Doors will open as you move forward with diligence, humility, and hope.
 
Dr. Jonathan M. Biddlecombe
01/27/2026