My family is your typical Polish family. My dad came to America from Poland in 1986 when he was twenty years old, and although my mom was born in America, her parents were born in Poland. Like many of my uncles, my dad never went to college, instead obtaining a vocational and technical degree. They work blue-collar jobs, such as construction and welding. Meanwhile, my brother and I grew up in a Polish household, listening to Disco Polo and eating kielbasa. While I am not fluent in the language, I can decently interpret it and speak the more common words. I am proud of my heritage, however, as I grew older, I realized the impact it had on my life and how it made me “different.” Since I was a child, I always spoke certain words in Polish. While some people call their grandmother Granny or Grandma, I call mine Babcia. In addition, my aunts to me are Ciocia and my uncles are Wujek. Around my family, I can freely speak the minimal words I know in Polish without anyone giving it a second thought. However, around my friends I receive many weird looks. As a child, naturally …show more content…
Many of these traditions revolve around the Polish church. My family is Catholic, however, we have certain traditions that differ from other American Catholics. For example, on Christmas we break op∤atek, a special wafer, with other members of the family and share wishes for the new year. In addition, on Easter we wear Krakow folk outfits to church. While these traditions may seem unusual to outsiders, they are my daily life. I would not be the same person I am today without them. Normally, I do not feel like an outsider compared to my American friends, however, events like these remind me of who I truly am. Other than in my home, the one place where I can openly express my heritage is my church. My church gives me a small piece of Poland where I can share my traditions with other people who experience a similar life like