Illustration: The Globe and Mail. Sources: Getty Images
Shannon Moneo is a freelance journalist based on Vancouver Island.
When I left the family home in Moosomin, Sask., to attend university in Regina, it was my 16th move in my short 18 years of life. My father, for reasons that were never clear to me, was constantly moving our family from place to place. While at times we had stints as long as three years – in Revelstoke, B.C., and Benito, Man. – in one single calendar year, I attended three schools in three provinces.
I was a gauche outcast in these schools, and with each move I became more bitter over my not-sweet teen years. Being accepted and having a social group, with all of its rituals and meaning, are much harder if the attempts have to be repeated every year, or every few months. Not engaging became my default behaviour.
Knowing that what little comfort you have created for yourself in a new place could be gone in a few months is paralyzing and can lead to destructive and angry behaviours that can carry on into adulthood. The number of moves I experienced may be extreme, but I wasn’t surprised to learn that research has come out showing the negative effects of childhood moves. A recent study confirms what many of us who have changed home multiple times as kids already know: It can contribute to poor mental-health outcomes as adults.
In July, JAMA Psychiatry published research results that found that moving during childhood was associated with notably higher rates of clinically confirmed depression among adults compared with those who did not move. The study, which included all of the 1.09 million people born in Denmark between 1982 and 2003, found that around 2.3 per cent were later diagnosed with significant depression. When the numbers were teased out, it was revealed that those who moved more than one time between the ages of 10 to 15 were 61 per cent more likely to be a depressed adult when compared with those who did not move, even when controlling for other factors.
Lead researcher Clive Sabel, a big data and spatial science professor at the University of Plymouth’s school of geography, told me that the study was initially meant to examine rates of depression for children living in income-deprived neighbourhoods. But as the numbers were analyzed, the effects of multiple childhood moves became apparent.
“If you move less, it’s better for you,” Prof. Sabel says. The study didn’t examine the reasons for moves or why frequent moves were detrimental. But, putting on his “human hat,” Prof. Sabel believes that the “disruption of social networks,” such as friendships, schools, sports teams or church activities, could be factors. Children require security and stability at home and school to become healthy adults, he says.
I’ve suffered my share of mental-health challenges and sorrows, starting in my 20s. Instead of Winston Churchill’s black dog, I liken my depression to a black crow, flying in and out of my life, pecking away, never knowing when it will descend.
Yet, not all adults view childhood moves as harmful. An acquaintance of mine moved about a dozen times in Eastern Canada because her father was an Air Force officer. She loved it and says it gave her an interest in the world, politics and people in general.
As Prof. Sabel says, “There are children who are just more resilient when born.” As well, having two mature and supportive parents, with jobs and in good health while earning a solid income, can mitigate the ill effects of moving, he says.
My friend Sally Titchkosky, born in Britain, moved eight times in childhood, including the big move from Britain to Guelph, Ont., where her father was a professor and author. Many of the relocations happened between Grades 7 and 12. While it was stressful, she credits it for her adaptive nature. “I rolled with it more,” she says.
After getting married, Sally and her husband settled in a B.C. town, where they still live, and had a daughter and son. “I wanted my kids to have friends who lived down the street,” she says.
In the two years leading up to 2021, 2.1 million, or 13.8 per cent, of Canadian households moved, according to Statistics Canada. Some kids face additional obstacles. In Canada, there were 61,100 children in out-of-home care in March, 2022, and many are subjected to frequent moves. Immigrant children face their own challenges, as do refugee children, who might come with trauma, language challenges or compromised health.
The fall back-to-school season can be particularly stressful for uprooted kids. While adults also experience the stress of dislocation, at least they have some control over the situation. Kids often can do nothing but ride the waves after Dad’s dictum that they’re heading to Edmonton from Vanderhoof, B.C., because the mill is closing or because Mom got a better-paying nursing job.
For most families, moving house is an attempt to make life better. The parents are motivated by higher-paying jobs, bigger homes or a more affordable cost of living. But before pulling up stakes, what’s at stake should be considered. Children’s personalities are a big factor. Outgoing and popular kids usually fare better, while introverted, bookish children like me are more susceptible to ill effects. Also, a move that follows the end of a school year is less damaging than in the middle. And sometimes, the monetary gains may be outweighed by later problems that come from disrupting the lives of those not-yet adults.
School boards can help make things a bit better for new kids in their classes. It shouldn’t be that difficult for schools to identify new students at the start of the year and to make a point of watching for signs of withdrawal, anger or abuse. And for students arriving after school has begun, that caring surveillance should be ramped up. I recall very few teachers who took any interest in the rejection or bullying I experienced. But I vividly remember and appreciate the humanity of the teachers who did. Perhaps new students can be paired with caring, engaged students who can ease transitions.
I will never truly know why my father thought it was okay to move our family so often. I know he spent time in a Catholic boys’ school and was sent to live with an older brother in his early teens, thus beginning a wandering life. Today, locked away with dementia, he cannot release his reasons or even his demons.
But I’ve tried to break the cycle, not wanting wounding wanderlust to become epigenetic. After my daughter was born in 1993, my husband and I moved once and we have remained in the same house since 1996, raising our daughter and son.
I recently finished a 10-day trip through Saskatchewan and Manitoba, visiting places I lived: Regina, Cupar, Kamsack and Moosomin in Saskatchewan; and Benito, Dauphin and Elphinstone in Manitoba. I couldn’t find all my former homes because of the 50-year gap. It was heartbreaking to see the general store in Benito completely gone, only green grass left standing. Or how several of those places are mere skeletons, with only the bones of homes remaining and the flesh of businesses gone.
But through those bittersweet moves, I learned much about our country. When I see a vehicle covered in dust, I know it came down a rural gravel road. Measuring rain by the millimetre? Must be from a farm. Visits to Hutterite colonies, First Nations reserves, Jewish wholesalers, moonshine makers, logging camps and Doukhobor settlements have helped me understand Canada.
My two children have enjoyed stability and the resulting predictability that comes from living in one home, but in the back of my mind, I feel they’ve missed out on learning about people outside their familiar bubble. A road trip isn’t quite the same as living in a place. Perhaps if my father had moved just half the number of times he did, a balance between mobile education and childhood-to-adulthood anguish would have been found.