Even though I am technically not an immigrant since I was born in Brooklyn, I can relate to what it feels like to be an immigrant because of my childhood. I was born in Brooklyn in December 26, 1995; there I spent a majority of my first year. However as my family was having financial hardships, they found it very to difficult to find the time and money to provide and care for me. So, when I still wasn’t a year old, I moved to Poland to live with my grandmother. I spent approximately three years in Poland only coming back to the US for a few weeks in the summer to see my family again. In Poland, I was raised to be Polish with Polish morals and attributes, influenced by Polish culture. As I grew up around the age of 3, I could already read, write, and speak fluently in Polish. I would’ve also went to my first year of school to Polish pre-K but my mom decided that it would be better for me to wait until American pre-K. I understand that she didn’t want me to get too accustomed to living in Poland but the damage was already done.
When I returned to America for good about 4 years old, my whole world turned upside down. These children here didn’t speak Polish like the ones in Poland. I had no way of communicating with them yet other than a few lines of broken English that were well known and commonly used in Poland. I felt like I was born again into a new world this time. I got so used to calling Poland my home that when I was uprooted I went through shock. Nothing mattered to me anymore because I wasn’t in Poland. By the time I began to accept my new surroundings is when I realized that I would have to start all over again. This gave me the motivation to do well in schools here. Even before I started, I forced my mom to teach me simple things like the alphabet and numbers. In school, I struggled for a while both with academics and friends. The way children interact in the two countries was so different in my mind. In Poland, children would be so much more open with each other. They would horse around and rough house and weren’t afraid to get dirty. Yet here, everyone was afraid to touch anyone almost.
Growing up I still had somewhat of an identity crisis. I was not sure where I belonged, whether I was Polish or American. However as I grew older, I began to meet more kids in the same situation as me that they came to America at a young age too. Together we began to form our own hangouts and our own slang. Soon enough we felt we have achieved our own identities as Polish-Americans and did not have to rely on each other as much when it comes to making friends and being independent. I feel like I have learned so much from being both Polish and American and that I have both of my heritages to thank for the excellent position I am in now in life.
