“SOLIDARNOSC,” proclaims the sign out front. “Illinois Division Polish American Congress, Mutual Aid Association, Social Service Center.” Saturday-afternoon traffic streams by steadily here on Milwaukee north of Foster. Animated conversations in Polish, incomprehensible to me, halt abruptly in the front office when I enter to inquire about the Miss Polonaise Competition. A woman politely directs me to a room toward the back, where the eight judges are settling into white leather chairs.
The strikingly beautiful Alicja Zacharczuk, her long blond hair framing a dark-browed face, is at a loss for words. “Why am I doing this?” She echoes my question in singsong. Her mother, Bozena, is sitting beside her in the waiting area outside the judges’ room. “I know why,” Bozena replies in a strong Polish accent. “Because I pushed her. Because her grandmother, my mother, died one month and two weeks ago, and she wanted her to do this. Because–” Bozena begins to cry as she describes her mother’s long illness. “She had everything wrong with her. It was good that she finally died.” Alicja silently nods her head and draws close to her mother.
“As far as Polish heritage is concerned,” a judge asks her, “are you aware of some of the needs that Poland has at this time?”
The judges murmur approvingly.
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“What do you remember about our great Polish heroes?”
“Well, I know that they came over and fought in our war too to bring freedom, and I thought that they were very brave people.”
“It was her idea,” says Katrina Winiecki’s mother. She and Katrina’s father are keeping her company in the waiting room before her interview. “We were completely surprised. She just started this about three days ago. All of a sudden it pops up. Her grandmother had encouraged her to do this. Oh well–no guts, no glory.” Katrina, who’s petite with impressively wavy hair, is on the dean’s list at Saint Mary’s College, has plans to go on to law school, and has occasionally worked as a hair or shoe model. She forces herself to smile and pay attention to her mother while darting glances toward the interview room. “Yes, we keep the traditions,” her mother is saying. “We celebrate Wigilia every Christmas Eve. That’s a Polish Christmas Eve dinner that has 12 courses–it’s always meatless, you always eat the foods in a particular sequence.”
