Everything I Know About Being Polish
I’m an American with a Polish surname, but I am not very Polish. I don’t speak any of the language beyond a couple words, or know any of the folk dances and many of the traditions. I have for years maintained that everything I know about being Polish could be contained in a small essay. Here is an attempt at the essay. For starters, in my mind, there is no color in Poland, or in the early days of the Polish-American experience. That’s because all the pictures I have of my grandparents and their parents are in black and white. I think most people readily admit that their memories and imagination are affected by media, especially the media of photography and film. This has had both a lamented and lauded effect on the way we think. Lamented, because we cannot help wedding an image to our thoughts impacted as much as or more than the magazines, movies and television we have seen, to the point where we can even wonder if what we remember actually happened or was something we saw...