becoming a British citizen

 I’m becoming a British citizen.

What does it mean exactly? It’s easy to think of it as just paperwork, an administrative thing that doesn’t really change anything about me. But it does. It does matter. It’s adding another layer to my identity.

I’m having to pledge my allegiance to the King! I know that sounds completely outlandish — but does it?

When I was 13, I made my Scout promise, and that was HUGE. It was such a big event in my life. You were only permitted to take the promise when you had been deemed ready and worthy. I had been in Scouts for something like two years before I was allowed to make my promise. I knew this day was coming. I was getting ready for it for months beforehand. I was saying the words of the promise before going to bed, like some kind of prayer. I’m sure I could still remember it now, nearly 30 years later, because that promise meant a lot to me. I was becoming part of something bigger than myself — something I really admired and longed to be a part of. It meant being permitted among people who shared values with me, forming a sort of brotherhood, a group to which I belonged. Oh, I was taking that so seriously. I thought about the words. I was reading about what it meant to be a Scout. I was very emotionally attached to that concept.

I did have some troubles with friendships back then, so becoming a proper member of the Scout movement was very meaningful to me, because it meant that I didn’t have to be liked by other teenagers — rather, I could take this step and then be accepted into the group regardless of not being able to form close friendships.

The celebration of it was significant as well. You never knew when it was going to happen, so you needed to be prepared, which of course is part of what being a Scout means. “Be Prepared” is the movement’s motto. I was prepared. I was waiting for the day when I would be called.

The ceremony was done at night. I was woken up in the middle of the night, put my uniform on, and then walked into the forest where there was a campfire set up for me. The whole group listened to a little storytelling from the leader about the significance of the promise and the movement, and then I took the oath in front of everybody gathered by the fire. I was given a cross, which was a symbol of me becoming a part of the movement and having taken my promise.

I remember that like it was yesterday. I was 13. That was 27 years ago.

And now here I am — another promise ceremony, to become part of a nation. And yes, like with Scouts, I did choose to be here. I found values that I admire and share, or aspire to. I found a way of living that is, well, really quite a good way of living. I found people I care about, people I made friends with. And probably most significantly of all, I had my children here, and I’m bringing them up here in Britain. They are British.

And now it’s time for me to be British.

So how do I feel?

It’s such a mixed bag.

I admit, I like my life here, and frankly, I would find it very hard to imagine a different life now. Fifteen years on, I’m a different person. And there is so much I appreciate about it — often not consciously.

When I arrived, I did not consider that this was going to be my home. I didn’t want it to be my home. I came because I was young. I didn’t have a better idea for my life, but I thought it was going to be good to try, to learn — and I did learn. I learned a lot, and I like a lot about living in Britain.

I like the fact that I can speak and read English with ease — that is an absolutely game-changing ability and a huge advantage in my life.

With the language, I also learned a different way to think. I do speak to myself in English now, and I find that this language — and I mean British English in particular here, as Americans express themselves differently — has really shaped the way I express myself, speak, and think. And that has enriched me hugely. It changed me. It gave me an entirely new and different perspective.

I love access to British culture. I absolutely admire BBC documentaries and children’s programmes, but also entertainment more generally. I found so many high-quality productions, and I don’t think I would have found that anywhere else in the world, so I’m very grateful for this.

I’m a big fan of BBC Radio 4 — its podcasts, documentaries, and informational content. I find it very well done: thoroughly researched, well presented, accessible, and, most of all, interesting. Because there are plenty of things that can be talked about, but not all of it is done in a way that actually keeps me interested. I’ve been a subscriber to some programmes for years, and I still enjoy every new episode that comes out.

I think that’s beautiful.

I really benefit from the fact that I can work part time while earning a lot more than I could have earned in Poland doing the same job. I have better career prospects here — even though I might not have taken full advantage of them, I appreciate the choices I have. I’ve been working part-time for more than 10 years now, so for most of my working life. And I can afford the kind of life that I enjoy and value. I can invest in the things that matter to me. I have modernised my home and got rid of all fossil fuels. I can afford all the children’s activities, trips, holidays, entertainment, and leisure. I really have a very comfortable life, and I really appreciate that.

I very much appreciate the cultural environment I interact with. The way people speak to each other — politely, kindly — I admire that. I really love that you can count on being treated with respect at all times. I’m not going to talk about the things that annoy me about the cultural ways of expression in Britain, like polite patronising and ambiguous responses that I absolutely loathe. I’m just going to point out the things that I really enjoy: that prevailing importance of being kind — that is something so special about Britain, and so precious. People, from a very young age — including my children — are taught to be kind, to be respectful, to be considerate. And that is, in my view, an absolute foundation of the way this nation is constructed and functions.

And I love it. I absolutely love it.

I love education here. We had a very good experience with schools and preschool settings that are built on a different set of values from the Polish system. I really think that serves young people very well. I really like the fact that my children have been exposed to this caring, appreciative environment that helped them grow confidence and self-love, that helped them manage difficulties in a positive way. I’m grateful for this.

In fact, I wish I could go back in time and give that to myself and my husband. We went through a very different educational environment, which left us with very different ways of thinking about ourselves and what we can do.

And also a work culture: there are standards of behaviour that at their heart have respect, support, and openness — opposite to patronising and dismissive attitudes. That is something I really value.

I have also discovered interesting people on the fringes of British culture — people who perhaps are not the most stereotypically “British,” but who are very much part of its diverse culture. I’ve really enjoyed those interactions and the learning they offered. They have definitely enriched my life, and even if this is not “British” as such, it is my experience of Britain, so I think that still counts towards my personal appreciation of it.

To the list of institutions I appreciate about Britain, I will add the National Trust. My changing attitudes towards it nicely illustrate my personal journey as an immigrant to Britain.

When I first became aware of it, it honestly made me laugh. Charging horrendous prices for maintaining and showing me around some grounds — often consisting of a massive lawn and, of course, the café with scones and jam — struck me as a really peculiar institution. I laughed at people who paid for membership just to admire a bit of a park. But then I started to notice there was much more to National Trust estates. I started to appreciate the environmental work they do, the cultural work they do, and also how they contribute to creating spaces for different groups in society — families, elderly people, groups of friends — to enjoy the countryside in a very British way. The estates are very well managed, there are facilities, there is parking, but it is still nature, beautiful gardens, as well as history. Travelling around, I found that National Trust sites are really quite special in the way they are maintained and the way they are made convenient. And now I’m a proud member of the National Trust. I don’t think I’m spending too much money. I feel like I’m supporting a good project, and I do enjoy the parks and gardens they offer — even though I could go for a walk and see a similar range of beautiful flowers in the little woods by my house, I still go to National Trust estates just because it’s so lovely.

So there it is. I’m British.

Here is the flip side though. Moving abroad has done another thing to me. It has made me realise how Polish I am. It confronted me with a different culture, and that made me very acutely aware of my own way of thinking and doing things — things I didn’t realise were not just mine alone, but were coming from my culture: the Polish culture.

And that is a difficult thing to come to terms with, because I did not grow up proud of being Polish. On the contrary — the atmosphere and the narrative I grew up in were very dismissive of Polish culture, the way the state operates, the way people are, and all its flaws. The negativity towards Poland and Polishness was all around me. I grew to see it as my own.

Then, coming to a different country, I suddenly found myself being proud of the way me and my people approach life. I started to feel very superior in my cultural habits.

I’d notice that with regard to food, the way people manage finances and the decisions they make, shopping, transport, attitudes towards work, ambition in life, relationships with nature, leisure time — everything.

I’ll try to explain on the example of attitudes towards nature:

I look down on the British only ever interacting with nature if there is a parking lot and café next to it, and ridicule them for thinking they are really into nature when they walk from pub to pub on a concrete path. Brits don’t go out if they don’t have “proper” outdoor equipment, even if they are making a mile-long walk. I can’t get over the kids who don’t go to the woods or the river just to play — they have to have a “forest school” organised first. Or even worse, they don’t sign up for a forest school because they are not that “outdoorsy” — they consider going into the garden, which consists of a very manicured lawn, as “being outside.”

But then, at the same time, I myself appreciate the fact that there are maintained footpaths everywhere, gates, signs, and that there is a pub almost everywhere you go, in case you need refreshments. And then I admire the people who use this outdoor infrastructure more extensively than I do — people who walk from coast to coast, organise cycling groups, go camping. That is all really inspiring and awesome.

But I still feel very superior in my way of experiencing nature, which is much more down to earth and casual. But at the same time, I’m finding I enjoy a café at the end of the walk. I complain when there’s no toilet. Living in the UK has changed the way I interact with nature too. The same goes for other aspects of life and culture.

And now, with the prospect of becoming a British citizen, I’m finding that, in a sense, I got trapped in this feeling of superiority of my culture. I’m having to bring myself to appreciate things that are British, to make a conscious effort to notice them, appreciate them, and make them my own. On the other hand, I don’t want to dismiss the Polish part of me, which I have become kind of proud of through living in the UK. That creates a rather uneasy opposition in me. It’s not easy to hold two things there together without judging them as better or worse. I guess that’s one of the things I find hard about becoming British.

And here is an even harder issue to come to terms with.

A big part of my life in Britain has been the experience of being an immigrant. And that is a difficult thing, because it is so conflicting.

I frankly love being an immigrant. I like the fact that I can come from elsewhere, bring all my cultural baggage, my personality, my lack of knowledge of the language and customs, etc. — and I can still not only function, but thrive in this country. I love it. And I love the fact that I’ve met many, many people in Britain who, like me, came to live here from all over the world, and we could all be part of this amazing culture and contribute to each other’s richness. I’m not in the slightest ashamed of the fact that I’m an immigrant. That’s who I am.

But equally, the very second that it is pointed out, I am furious. I absolutely hate somebody treating me as an immigrant. So yes — I am one, but I do not want to be treated as one.

I guess the same goes for Black people, or people with any other minority identity: they can be proud of their identity, immersed in it, but they do not want to be treated differently because they are part of that group.

It sounds illogical, a bit contradictory perhaps, but that is very much my experience.

As an immigrant to Britain, I love Britain for not treating me as an immigrant, as the “other.”

That comes back to this kindness, respect, and tolerance towards people — that I can be an immigrant without constantly being made to feel like one.

When I was approved as a British citizen and invited to the ceremony to take an oath to the Crown, my emotional reaction was not one of joy. I rather wanted to show my middle finger: You’re not going to tell me who I am!

Coming from Eastern Europe, I have inherited the deep mistrust towards the State. Deep down, I carry the sentiment that, by definition, “The State” is oppressive. That has awakened now when I’m called to pledge my allegiance to the United Kingdom.

The welcoming, diverse, open environment that welcomed me when I first came has now started to feel threatening. The political situation is changing, and the nationalistic, anti-immigrant narratives and attitudes are becoming stronger. They are labelling me as an immigrant, encroaching into my rights, treating me as somehow less worthy. And that causes resentment.

I didn’t choose to pursue citizenship because I deeply wanted it. Rather, I thought: well, if you’re not happy with me living here as an immigrant, I will follow the process and become a British citizen, so I can be just the same as you are.

And the fact that I was, in a way, made to do that really steals the joy out of it.

I’m also observing a fast-paced change in me on that subject.

Just a year ago, we got citizenship for the children, and that was provoked by the same thing. We did it because Reform UK won the local election, so we thought we’d better regulate the children’s status, so they couldn’t be denied being British in the future.

But when they got that status, I felt really happy. I felt like that was something to celebrate.

We went out with British flags. I made them a crisp sandwich. We had ice cream in Beamish. I was looking at them and thinking: You are British. You have always been. This is part of your heritage. You are growing up here, and now you also have legal recognition of that heritage of yours.

I thought that was lovely.

I was really proud that they could be both Polish and British, that they could belong here and there, and that they formed part of this amazing, diverse, open, and civilised country.

But then, when it comes to me, I really feel different.

I feel like I’m being made to become somebody I’m not.

And of course, when I think about it, I also am British now. And now I’m having the legal reality of it recognised. I’m being formally admitted into the British nation.

But I feel like something is being taken from me.

I really felt at home with the concept that I was Polish, yet I was living in Britain, and that was okay. Not just for me, but also for my colleagues, customers, friends, and wider community.

I didn’t have to conform to be British. I didn’t have to change anything about myself. I just functioned in British society as Polish.

Now I’m having to declare myself British and pledge allegiance to the King.

I would really rather be Polish in Britain.