A grandmother’s story: migration in the early 1970s
One woman, now 92 years old, recalled arriving in France in 1972, following her husband. For her, France was a country of abundance – a land where meat was eaten daily, cars lined the streets, and even simple foods like butter and oranges seemed luxuries beyond reach in 1970s Poland. Her decision to migrate was not about dreams of the West, but about family ties and economic opportunity.
The adjustment was difficult: ‘The hardest part was language – language was everything,’ she admitted. The cultural habits and mentality felt alien, and she experienced discrimination as an immigrant: ‘We were treated badly by the French. It was enough just to be foreign to be seen as something lesser.’ She came to understand France as wealthier and materially richer but felt that Poles were intellectually superior – that as Poles, ‘we prefer to live by simple words, and Poles are better educated.’
She noted how different family life felt: ‘In Poland, the family bond always connects, but in France, children leave home early, and families fall apart.’ Many Poles she knew in France, she reflected, fell into alcoholism. She also found the French mentality fundamentally different, describing her experience as ‘more emotional than logical’. She believes that while many people associate the French with elegance, true style is confined to the wealthy elite – and that overall, Polish women have better taste and dress more stylishly than their French counterparts.
Nevertheless, over time she and her family built a life, supporting relatives back in Poland and maintaining a strong Polish identity through food, traditions and media: she still cooks Polish meals, watches Polish television and regularly attends Mass at a local Polish church – Église Notre-Dame-de-l’Assomption near Concorde – where every service is ‘full of Poles’. In her view, Polish rituals remain rich and vital, even far from home.
She also reflected on how French perceptions of Poles have changed over time. ‘Before, they treated us as good workers,’ she said, ‘but now this has changed.’ Even today, after decades in France, she describes herself unequivocally as ‘a Pole who’s in France’.
Though she still thinks about Poland, she feels too old to return now. Her advice to anyone considering emigrating is simple: ‘Go back to Poland – there you can feel at home.’ Beyond that, she says, it’s difficult to offer advice, acknowledging that migration depends so much on individual circumstances, mentality and expectations.
This experience of maintaining Polish identity while building a French life echoes in other stories I encountered. In Marseille, I met another woman of similar age who has lived in France since the 1950s – but her path took an entirely different turn. Now 92, she earned a doctorate and dedicated her life to studying African theatre dolls, showing how Polish migrants have contributed to France's intellectual life in the most unexpected ways.