Growing up in Poland with a complex history as the daughter of a resistance fighter, who never surrendered to the communist rule, was a challenge in itself. My father was a member of Battalion Parasol of the Home Army (AK Parasol) and fought in the Warsaw Uprising during the Second World War. My grandmother’s brother died at Dachau concentration camp. My aunt’s husband survived Auschwitz. My childhood tendency to ask honest questions did not go well either. There was a period of struggle to convince my father to let me study art rather than architecture, the latter being his preference.