By: Adrienne Sweetwater
(Para ler o artigo em português, clique aqui)
As intercultural consultants, we wear many hats. Sometimes, we’re the cultural expert, sometimes a pseudo-psychologist, sometimes the first “friend” an expat has in their new country, and sometimes a connector to other support networks for the expat’s family. Whatever the case, every family is unique in their support and cultural adaptation needs—and it’s our job to discover how best to aid their transition.
Working with expats is about working with people, not merely handling numbers or “talent” in the company. This is something that all service providers and HR/talent mobility specialists must keep at the forefront of every interaction. According to the well-known Holmes and Rahe Stress Scale, changes in residence rank among the most stressful life events a person can experience, scoring just below major events like the death of a spouse. When that move involves an international relocation, the stress and complexity increase exponentially. As global mobility professionals, we must always maintain the “human touch” and approach our expats in a way that makes them feel safe and disarmed. So much of what they’re going through is outside their control — and will continue to be — so it’s our role to acknowledge their emotions and hold space for them in their transition as much as possible.
I once conducted an in-person training at a newly arrived expat’s home in São Paulo. He had just moved from the United States, and his family had not yet joined him. During our coffee break, I noticed some family photos on his mantel and asked about them. He shared with me that his stepdaughter had passed away a year earlier from a fentanyl overdose. She was 24 years old when she died.
These kinds of vulnerable, deeply personal stories often surface while working with expat families. How we receive and hold this information makes all the difference in how the professional feels welcomed in their new country — and whether they feel seen and understood. No two intercultural trainings are ever the same. We customize each one to meet the specific needs of the family we’re working with, recognizing that we’re always dealing with questions of grief and loss.
It may not always be as explicit as the death of a loved one, but we are constantly navigating the grief of leaving behind a chapter of someone’s life: co-expat spouses who have given up jobs and career ambitions to accompany the expat; children who have had to say goodbye to friends; families who have had to let go of previously imagined dreams and ways of living.
My core recommendation is simple: treat expats like people. When you do, they’re also more likely to extend grace and understanding to your own humanity. Using phrases like “Unfortunately, I don’t know when your visa will be issued, and I realize how frustrating it is not to have clarity around your travel dates” creates space for empathy and human connection. Sometimes, it’s simply about sitting in the room and witnessing the honest feelings of the person in front of you.
Above all else, we must connect on a fundamental human level. There will be time for the logistics afterward.
Holmes, T. H., & Rahe, R. H. (1967). The Social Readjustment Rating Scale. Journal of Psychosomatic Research, 11(2), 213–218.