Melania Krych

I think people don’t realize how bad things were in America even before Trump. If anything, I see Trump as simply someone openly talking about the things the American government has been doing for centuries. By no means am I saying that what Trump is doing is okay – but he is honest about it. After all, the Biden administration deported an average of 57,000 people per month, while the Trump administration deported 37,660 people last month – and yet we never hear about Biden’s deportation plans. We praise liberals for their commitment to human rights, but what have they actually achieved?

They don't protect women's rights, they allow the genocide of Palestinians, they arrest students for protesting, they enable Russia to continue its crimes, and they restrict our freedom of speech. And yet we are expected to vote for them because they are the “lesser evil”? I keep hearing that the future "rests in the hands of young people" because the older generation caused this whole mess. I’m expected to protest, vote, organize – while being cut off from all of it.

What kind of democracy is America, if our only choice is between two evils, both backed by the same powerful interests?

I think when looking at America, we need to ask ourselves: “For whom was it ever good?” It has always been a good country for white Americans, and now it’s probably even better for them. But has it ever been a good country for women? Has it ever been good for people of color? I think we forget this when we idealize America. It was never a great country, and it will never be “great again” unless the past we're referring to is that colonial, racist empire that Trump wants to bring back.

Looking at the “American Dream” from the perspective of a post-communist country in Eastern Europe, it’s easy to idealize it. Nevertheless, I always try to remind people from Eastern Europe that the society, security, education, and healthcare we have here are worth a million times more than the idealized version of what their life could look like in the capitalist utopia of America.

I recently visited New York. Although it’s one of the most expensive cities in the U.S., the price hikes over the past year shocked me. I heard from friends that they can’t afford their rent because it was raised by 25%. Some of them haven't been able to find a job since last summer – and by "job" I mean any job, even in a café or grocery store. And these are people who graduated from prestigious universities like Columbia or NYU.

Food prices continue to rise. Last year, groceries that lasted me about 10 days cost around $120. When I came to New York recently, that amount had doubled. It’s obvious that Trump wants an economic collapse so that only the top 1% can afford anything – but what then? Are all the people that are unable to afford anything supposed to end up arrested and become another form of slave labor for the American empire? Is that Trump’s plan?

Homelessness in America is another thing I noticed become worse after being away for a year. To my surprise, I found that Americans have become even more indifferent to it than before. The rise in the number of people using drugs on the streets is terrifying, and the fentanyl epidemic is rapidly turning more cities into “zombie cities. ”It was already a serious problem during the pandemic, but now it’s even worse.

More and more people can't afford to pay rent — and more and more are ending up on the streets.

Although the sight of people using drugs frightens me, what I feel even more strongly is anger. Why is no one helping them? How can Americans be so indifferent, watching people die on the streets every day?

Now Trump wants to make homelessness illegal. He will use those who cannot be trapped within the capitalist system as another labor force for America's prison-industrial complex

America is slowly falling apart, like every empire, but its problems didn’t arise overnight.

The cracks in the foundation had existed for years in a country whose core was built on genocide and slavery, but now they can no longer be ignored. So how can the citizens of this country continue to look away and not take action? Because it’s easier to sit at home, distracting themselves with entertainment, social media, or daily responsibilities, than to confront the harsh realities of what is happening around them.It saddens me to realize that many Americans only grasp the seriousness of the situation when their own property is at risk. Only when their belongings, their sense of security, or their daily lives are threatened do they start to understand that change will not come from passive observation or waiting. The urgent need to take to the streets and demand action becomes clear only when the consequences of inaction are personally felt. But history shows us that by then, it’s already too late.

“First they came for the socialists,

and I did not speak out—because I was not a socialist.

Then they came for the trade unionists,

and I did not speak out—because I was not a trade unionist.

Then they came for the Jews,

and I did not speak out—because I was not a Jew.

Then they came for me—and there was no one left to speak for me".

Martin Niemöller

For the longest time it has been my dream to move to America but after living there for three years, I decided to move back to Poland. Just like my parents, I thought that living in America was going to offer me this big American dream, but that was not the case. I think due to the ways in which America is portrayed, I had this preconceived notion of what my life is going to look like but I was unaware of the jarring realisations that come with moving to the West. 

When I got there I wouldn't say that I missed my old life in Poland. Everything felt new and exciting and I felt like «I made it» but the longer I spent time in the US the more I realised the sad realities of America. Life in the East is highly focused on community: I know my neighbours, I get my fruits and vegetables from a local market stand, my friends buy me beers when I’m out of cash, but my experience in America was the complete opposite of that. Unless you’re in a borough where you grew up or have built a community, all your experiences are transactional. I found myself thinking that I’m forming a relationship with someone to quickly later on finding that they wanted something from me, blurring the line whether friendships can exist outside of work or status.

What was the most difficult for me when I was there was really understanding my identity in the realm of the US

In America, I am perceived as a white girl and my identity as a Polish person is not necessarily considered unless I bring it up in a conversation. This was really difficult for me to understand because I feel like I'm coming from a country that focuses on identity so much. I felt like that was just being stripped away. I couldn't really identify myself with where I lay in the US. Should I be considered an immigrant or should I be considered a Polish American? It was really unclear for me. I was aware of the privileges that I have in America due to being a white woman but I couldn’t identify or relate to the white American women around me.

I didn't really feel at home there unless I was in a neighbourhood such as Greenpoint where I was able to socialise with Polish people, and when it came to my university, I only met one other Polish person. It wasn't until I became friends with a Ukrainian guy who came from an immigrant family. He understood exactly what I was talking about. The Americans only perceived him as a white boy and he was unable to identify with white American men either. We would discuss our similarities and differences of being Polish and Ukrainian and the terror that's happening in the world right now that most of our peers in America seemed to ignore. I think that America is so centralised in its country and politics that a lot of issues outside that don’t concern people there just seem to be irrelevant and I think especially when you are an immigrant you can find yourself feeling lost. 

That friend of mine made me realise how much I miss my country and how much I miss my community because he was the closest to what felt like a community to me in America. It's a weird experience to be an Eastern European because, on one hand, most Eastern European countries have been historically oppressed but on the other hand, you do carry the privilege of being a white person and should hold yourself accountable for having that privilege. 

It's just not talked about enough how much history affected Eastern European countries and especially in the West I don't see many people being aware of what happened.

I remember how in one of my classes an American kid didn’t even know about what’s happening in Ukraine. «What war?» they said and I couldn’t believe what I was hearing

I got so angry, how can one not know? Everything there is centralised in their country, excluding anything that doesn’t focus on it or on their ideals of individualism. I couldn't take it anymore - «America this, America that», - no news about another country, while their country is one responsible for most war crimes in the world and is simultaneously one able to stop these wars.

In New York, I lived in the Ukrainian neighbourhood of the East Village, hoping it would bring me a sense of peace. Instead, I found it felt rather fabricated. I didn’t hear any Ukrainian on the streets, and most of the neighbourhood seemed to be gentrified by hipster white Americans and students looking for affordable housing. I often found myself wondering what this meant for those who once called the neighbourhood home.

The contrast between the original culture and the modern, more commercialised environment evoked a sense of nostalgia for what was lost, which was only enhanced by what is happening in Ukraine right now

Similarly, I saw the same thing taking place in Greenpoint. What was once known as a thriving Polish neighbourhood was no longer the same. Each month I’d go - another restaurant would get shut down and another person I’d known would move out since they could no longer afford it. What struck me most was the change in the people around me. Many residents who lived there for a long time were being pushed out due to rising rents, and the cultural landscape I had initially felt in a way at home, began to feel more homogenised. Both Ukrainian and Polish communities were pushed out of neighbourhoods they once considered their own, now they move a couple miles further away from Manhattan to another neighbourhood they will call home until it happens again. 

All my time while I was in America I questioned: why not choose the calmer, community life? Why is this the dream? Feeling isolated in the four walls of my New York apartment, waking up every day to the loud noises outside, seeing faces I don’t recognise every day. Why not move back home and have community, support and a sense of safety? I realised that as I was complaining about all of this I only had one option. I packed my things and I left. My dream is not to be surrounded by shiny things and a job that boosts my sense of self. I want to feel like I belong somewhere, a place where neighbours say hi to each other, a place where others take care of each other, a place we can call home.