Homeward Bound through our Cultural Beginnings & Customs

[Hack]

My ancestors came to the States just after the US Civil War and homesteaded farms in northern Lower Michigan. I'm 4th generation, I guess. My family has always lived in Michigan. In fact, my parents still live in my hometown, which is the town that they grew up in and the town that their parents grew up in.

Home to me is a little town...4500 people...mostly people of German and Polish descent. In fact, I am half Polish and half German. Home to me is a town dominated by a Catholic Church on one end of town and a Luthern on the other. A Catholic Church that begrudgingly accepted Vatican II, for that matter. Home to me is homemade kielbasa from a tiny butcher shop in Polishtown (aka the neighborhood my mom grew up). Home to me is polka bands at every family wedding. Home to me is hard-working, and hard-drinking, loud, rowdy people. Home to me is having 33 first cousins on my mom's side because she had 10 brothers and sisters. Home to me is a bowling alley/restaurant that on Thursdays has pierogi, bigos, golabki, golonka, czernina (duck blood soup) on the buffet. All you can eat for $6, I might add.

On the German side, we were indoctrinated on my dad's side of the family...my grandparents grew up in households that spoke both English and German. I know a little German that I learned as a child. My grandparents traveled to Germany extensively after the war to find their roots. They would bring us little gifts and chocolates, I remember. At Christmas, my grandmother made the best stollen. And sauerkraut with every meal, it seemed.

The culture of both the Polish and German community is still very alive in my little hometown. There is a town festival every August that has element of both cultures.

Jake

[AtLast]

Originally Posted by Hack

My ancestors came to the States just after the US Civil War and homesteaded farms in northern Lower Michigan. I'm 4th generation, I guess. My family has always lived in Michigan. In fact, my parents still live in my hometown, which is the town that they grew up in and the town that their parents grew up in.

Home to me is a little town...4500 people...mostly people of German and Polish descent. In fact, I am half Polish and half German. Home to me is a town dominated by a Catholic Church on one end of town and a Luthern on the other. A Catholic Church that begrudgingly accepted Vatican II, for that matter. Home to me is homemade kielbasa from a tiny butcher shop in Polishtown (aka the neighborhood my mom grew up). Home to me is polka bands at every family wedding. Home to me is hard-working, and hard-drinking, loud, rowdy people. Home to me is having 33 first cousins on my mom's side because she had 10 brothers and sisters. Home to me is a bowling alley/restaurant that on Thursdays has pierogi, bigos, golabki, golonka, czernina (duck blood soup) on the buffet. All you can eat for $6, I might add.

On the German side, we were indoctrinated on my dad's side of the family...my grandparents grew up in households that spoke both English and German. I know a little German that I learned as a child. My grandparents traveled to Germany extensively after the war to find their roots. They would bring us little gifts and chocolates, I remember. At Christmas, my grandmother made the best stollen. And sauerkraut with every meal, it seemed.

The culture of both the Polish and German community is still very alive in my little hometown. There is a town festival every August that has element of both cultures.

Jake

I really enjoyed reading this! I have so little knowledge about Polish and German immigrant journeys, really, so this brings me so much more about customs and traditions for each.

I do have a friend from Poland that I am learning more from as she is first generation and her parents live in NY and very connected to areas of Polish people. she brought me some Polish chocolate recently as a gift for taking care of her daughter (my friend) post surgery. And I got to hear her stories of immigration and what it was like to be from Slovic roots under oppression. Her parents were killed in the camps during WWII. I just learn so much more by having someone tell me their story face to face.

I love hearing about family traditions and customs that get passed on!I love hearing my friend speak Polish with her Mom. For some reason, I just feel more at peace when I am around people speaking different languages. Guess its that home thing going on for me! Also, with all of the opportunity I had to speak other languages, I have no talent at it at all! My Italian and Spanish is horrible!