A few days ago, while driving on Route 2 towards Sultan, my Spotify Daily Mix playlist suddenly played a song I hadn’t heard in years. It was Republika’s “Biała Flaga” (“White Flag”), and the first verse was “Where are my friends?” (“Gdzie są moi przyjaciele?”). When I got home, the song was still in my head, and I kept asking myself this question: Where are our friends?

We left them behind when we moved. They left us behind when they moved. There were a few friendships from high school that survived our turbulent times and all the departures. Some lasted for years, but we stopped responding to their Christmas cards, and they stopped sending them. Some just faded away as we had nothing in common and nothing to say.

Then we ended up in Seattle and heard about the Seattle Freeze.

Most of us arrived here in our twenties and thirties, preoccupied with building careers and families. As immigrants, we had more to prove and had to work harder. There was barely any time for family and no time for friends.

Then we made new friends. The Seattle Freeze ended up being a myth that many use to justify their 60-hour workweeks or hobbies that do not involve social interactions. The fact is that we all crave to be part of a group, to have someone who will listen, to have someone who trusts you enough to share their problems, to have someone to play pickleball or hike together.

If you ever complained about the Seattle Freeze, trust me, all you need to do is go out and talk to strangers. And what better place to talk to strangers than a Polish Home restaurant?

I encourage you to share your stories about friends you had and friends you found here, and your take on the Seattle Freeze. We’ll be happy to publish them here and on our website. Send your story to editor@seattlepolishnews.org.

Bohdan Raciborski, Editor