Polish Immigration -- a Journal a Journal

Polish Immigration -- a Journal

A Journal Entry from a Catholic Polish Immigrant

The voyage across the sea was treacherous, and the water splashing on the deck was cold as ice, but the hope, the fantastic hope of seeing the Great City was the calmest and warmest force within me that kept me going through the seasickness and the cold. My voyage started in Warsaw and it seems like it lasted for years and years. So great was my excitement that I became seasick many times. It was actually fortunate that we did not have a lot of food because that way I was, I think, less seasick than if I had been full.

Poland is a beautiful country, but there is very little hope of making any money. Sometimes we cannot even have dinner because there is nothing to eat. I have seven children and many other Catholic families from my village are in a very poor situation because of the fact that there are too mouths to feed and no food to give. So it is true, this hope for a better life has motivated me to leave my country, my home, my family and my friends and venture out into the dark, strange world that will be my future home and hopefully my children's children's home. America. The word is so sweet. Yes, there must be hope, for the tens of hundreds of people, without economic hope, such as I, have come here for a reason, and have stayed here and provided for their families back in Poland because they have had hope which has found them a job, an income, and a new life.

I have been in New York City for a month now, having passed through the long process of the Ellis Island 'community' that is so well organized. I was amazed at the efficiency of the immigration officers, their ability to understand all of us non-speakers and the majesty of the City after stepping back on the boat that was headed towards Manhattan. It was such a joyous moment to see the skyline, closer and closer, and to feel the hustle and bustle, as Americans say, of the city.

A few days after I arrived one of my friends from my hometown met me and helped me get a job. It was very surprising to me and I consider myself very lucky to have someone I can trust who was able to help me. I wrote my family soon after and told them of everything, but I doubt that they received the letter yet. I must, however, practice my English, and not my Polish, and that is why I started this journal. My job allows me to rest for six hours, I work the other 18 hours almost non-stop with two small breaks for lunch and dinner, but I like my work and I now try to utilize as much time as I can before going back to work to rest, write, read and try and get to know the city. I do not have enough time because it seems to fly, but there is reward in working. I finally have enough money to start thinking about sending some home, and I certainly have enough food. For this reason, my financial condition is better than in Poland, where there is really no hope.

There are many things that are different about America. At first, I was surprised by the fact that I found so many Catholics in America, many of whom have been very willing to help. However, there are also some Americans who are not so willing to help immigrants. One such man is my landlord. The tenement in which I live is on the outskirts of the city in a place called Brooklyn. The rooms are very small and we live six in a room, but I hear it is better than in Manhattan, where it is almost 20 people in one room. My landlord is a very mean man. He is always angry, and I do not understand why. I come from a city where, even though people are in a dire situation, we utilize humor and nice gestures to help each other. When I met my landlord I was very nice and at first, I thought he was angry at me because he did not understand my English, but now I see him angry at everyone and I have realized that even if I pay my rent on time, he will continue to be angry. My landlord is a Protestant and I have heard also that he does not like Catholics. So I have come to believe that he is a bit racist.

There are, of course, other Americans who have this racist attitude, but I sometimes understand them. I mean, we are coming from a strange country and to Protestants, or those of other religions, it is us who have a strange religion, and we are taking their jobs without even speaking proper English. I guess I would be upset too if they would come to Poland and they were taking my job.