Polly Courtney - author of Golden Handcuffs: The Lowly Life of a High Flyer | Poles Apart: An Immigrant's Tale

P O L L Y C O U R T N E Y

Author of Golden Handcuffs: The Lowly Life of a High Flyer | Poles Apart: An Immigrant's Tale | The Day I Died: A Question of Identity

Polly's press & media appearances

Bonuses: The Fictitious Meritocracy

Square Mile, 2009

Work hard and play later?

Would You Take a Pay Cut?

Grazia, 2009

Company mag, 2009

No Place for a Pole

Guardian Weekly, 2008

Poles Apart breeds sympathy

Metro, 2008

British about Poles

Cooltura, 2008

Stay Here Forever

Goniec Weekly, 2008

Do Brits know more than we think?

Polot, 2008

The Story of Marta D

New Times, 2008

Breaking Stereotypes

Nowy Czas, 2008

Self-flagellation and the City

The Spectator, 2008

Women Inc.

Netherlands, 2007

Seksisme in the City

Volkskrant Banen, 2007

Der Grosse Geldregen

Stern Magazin, 2007

Rediscover your Passion - Go It Alone

City AM, 2007

Med Hand-Jern i City

Dagens Naeringsliv, 2007

Finansmiljøet i London - et Jobbhelvete

Karrierlink.no, 2007

Fear and Loathing in the Heart of the city

Cambridge Evening News, 2006

Beyond the City Limits

Guardian, 2006

Unlocking my Golden Handcuffs

The LSE Beaver, 2006

Sexism in the City

Metro, 2006

De Gouden Boeien van de City

FEM Business, 2006

Sexism and the City

Euromoney, 2006

My Glittering City Career Turned into Golden Handcuffs

Daily Express, 2006

Do Women Really Get a Raw Deal in the City?

Evenings Standard, 2006

Thursday September 4th 2008

A report published this week suggests that while migrants are making a positive contribution to the UK economy, they are not recognised for the boost they provide. Polish immigrant Matylda Kowalska agrees.

The benefits that migrants bring to local economies in the UK are being underestimated, according to a report published this week by public think tank IPPR. Matylda Kowalska came to London from Poland in 2003. Despite having a Master’s degree and a string of internships under her belt, she is still struggling to find a permanent job. She says that she is tired of being denied the chance to prove herself.

As a kid, life in Poland is great. The problem comes when you have to grow up and get a job. I was born in 1979, so I was brought up before Poland joined the EU. Unemployment was about 18%, and it was particularly bad for young people. If you wanted to work once you finished university you had to either move to a big city or go abroad.

Everyone knew that Poland was going to be in the EU, and we knew that when that happened we’d have a chance of getting better jobs. We talked about how exciting it would be to go to London and make something happen. I wanted to make a go of it. I wanted to get a proper professional job.

I had a typical Polish education – eight years in primary, then four years in high school before going on to university. I studied sociology for five years, which gave me an MA. It was a pretty ordinary university – it was the only one in my town to go to. In Poland, if you want to go to the best universities you have to go to Warsaw or Krakow.

I wasn’t able to get much financial support from my family. My mum worked in office administration and my dad had a small business. I wouldn’t say we were middle-class – that group only started coming into existence a few years ago. Before that you were either a doctor or a lawyer or you were fairly low-paid. It’s so different to England.

I decided to come over as an au pair. There are lots of agencies in Poland set up for that. They look for a family for you for a small fee, and if they find you one you have to pay some more. But the agency could only find me jobs outside London, so I started looking online. I sent emails, pictures, references and health checks to one family, and they invited me to live with them.

At the time it was too expensive to fly so I came by coach. It took 17 hours before we pulled in at Victoria station. I had to wait for the family to pick me up. It’s weird to go and live with someone you’ve just met through the internet. You really are going on a blind date – you don’t know what you’re in for.

For me, it didn’t work out. It was horrible from the moment I started living with them. The family had a boy of five and a girl of three. The mother was working in the city and the father was working too. The girl was quite sweet, but the boy was nasty and rude. I couldn’t control him and he wouldn’t do anything I said. When they were at school I’d have to do the washing, ironing, cleaning and cooking. In my free time there was always something else to do – that’s what happens when you’re living in your work. I got £50 a week pocket money, but that was almost entirely taken up by my English language school fees.

One day, the woman I was living with checked the computer and found out that I had been looking for another family to live with. I was ironing, and she came in and stood next to me – she was a tall woman – and said, "Are you looking for a new family?" I said yes. After that the situation got a lot worse. I was terrified and determined to get out of there.

In May 2004, one year after I came to the UK, Poland joined the EU. I asked myself, "What can I do to get a proper professional job in this city?" I was interested in market research, but I needed experience – I’d only worked as an au pair, a waitress and a sales assistant. So I prepared my CV and covering letter and offered myself as an intern. I must have sent out more than 100 letters but only got five replies – and they were all rejections.

I worked hard to pay for an agency that said they might be able to find me something. It was difficult, because of course I couldn’t afford to do a full-time internship; I had to apply for part-time positions so I could work the rest of the day. Eventually they found me a placement for four weeks as a marketing assistant. In the evenings I worked in a bar to support myself.

Since that internship I’ve gone from one low-paying freelance job to another. It’s given me some experience, but there has been no stability.

I don’t know if employers are discriminating against us – it’s more like there is just no interest. Others might have better qualifications, but I was offering my labour for free. Maybe they think my English or my qualifications aren’t good enough, but they never bothered talking to me to find out. All I wanted was a chance to prove myself.

Although many of my Polish friends are highly qualified, they still have to do bar and coffee-shop work. More and more people are going back to Poland as the economy improves there and gets worse here. I don’t know if many Polish people finishing their studies still want to come to the UK.

There was a time when lots of unqualified workers came here to do unskilled labour. But I came here to see the world, travel, learn English and get a professional job. I don’t know how I compare to the traditional labourers – they have different expectations and wants. Sometimes I see them on a bus, but I never talk to them. It’s weird, but that’s how it is.

I don’t know if I will go home now. I am used to London and I like its intensity. I like going out, I have more choices and life is more interesting. But I don’t know if it’s worth struggling any more: it’s been five years since I left Poland and I still haven’t found a stable job.

I’m worried about not being able to have my own house. I’m nearly 30 and I have the needs of a 30-year-old person, but because I came from somewhere else I feel like I’m always catching up – I’m behind in so many ways.

Of course my family want me to come back. I don’t send money home – if anything it’s the other way round. They have always been there to support me. They are worried about my instability here, and about what will happen to me when my present job ends this month.

Matylda Kowalska’s story has been turned into a novel, Poles Apart, by Polly Courtney, published by Troubador.