When I was eleven years old I heard my very first polack joke from a fellow public school prodigy. It was something to the effect of why they do not eat M&M’s. Being a naïve and sheltered lad I inquired, “what’s a ‘polack’?” My query was dismissed with “it’s a stupid person. DUH!” I must admit, many of those jokes were quite humorous.
For the twenty years
following, I understood polacks to be dimwitted Caucasians, because I could
relate.
Eventually, I
discovered “polack” was an insult for a Polish person. I had not had any
exposure to any Poles therefore I could not comprehend how being Polish would
make a person stupid by default. It was unrealistic to think such would try to
peel an M&M candy or attempt to pour two quarts of water into a Kool-Aid
packet. The jokes were no longer humorous to me; not because they were rude
ethnic slurs, but rather because Polish people don’t appear stupid.
I tried sharing this
epiphany with my partner, Harry. Mind you, although Harry is a well-educated
man, with dozen-plus years of university to his credit, English is not his
first language. Occasionally, I need to explain cultural differences or elaborate
on phases he has heard. I mentioned to Harry when I first heard a polack jokes
I had no idea what a polack was. He inquired, “a polack? Isn’t that a dinner
party where everyone brings food to share?”
I love a good malapropism, and this one was a gem.
The next time we are invited to attend a polack, I’ll prepare pierogis stuffed
with sauerkraut and kiełbasa.
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