The Roma: Survival, Stereotypes, and the Fight to Be Seen

Black and white collage of Roma life: couples, musicians, and conversations. Street and building settings. Text reads "THE ROMA". Mood is candid.

For centuries, the Romani people have existed on the fringes of European society, a people without a homeland, constantly moving, constantly adapting. They are storytellers, musicians, metalworkers, traders—yet to many, they are still seen through the distorted lens of stereotype. Romanticised as carefree wanderers or vilified as criminals, their real lives and histories have often been ignored.

One of the few contemporary voices to offer an insider’s account of Romani life is Mikey Walsh. In his memoir, Gypsy Boy, he tells a deeply personal story of growing up in a strict Romany Gypsy community in England—a world defined by loyalty, secrecy, and deep suspicion of outsiders. But his upbringing was also shaped by violence. Walsh suffered physical and emotional abuse at the hands of his father and uncle, eventually making the painful decision to leave his community behind at just 15 years old. His book paints a bleak picture, depicting the Romani way of life as suffocating and isolated. “The Gypsy race is an old-fashioned and, sadly, a very bitter one,” he writes. “They live, breathe, sleep, grieve, love, and care for only their own people.”

Children playfully sliding on icy ground with dogs nearby. Wooden house in the background, other kids watching. Energetic and lively scene.

Why the Roma Distrust Outsiders

To an outsider, this distrust of others may seem extreme. But when viewed in the context of Romani history, it makes perfect sense. The Romani people have faced persecution, violence, and systematic exclusion for centuries, often being pushed to the margins of society and treated as second-class citizens. When a culture has been met with such relentless hostility, it’s only natural to turn inward, to protect one’s own, to preserve a way of life that has endured against all odds.

A group of people, including kids and musicians, gather in front of rustic buildings. Two men play instruments. A sunny, rural setting.

The Roma, often labelled “Gypsies” by outsiders, have been misunderstood from the moment they arrived in Europe. The name itself is a mistake, based on the belief that they originated from Egypt when, in reality, they came from northern India more than a thousand years ago. From the medieval period onwards, they were seen as outsiders and were often subject to harsh laws. In many parts of Europe, they were banned from settling, forced into slavery, or expelled altogether. Over time, damaging stereotypes took hold—Roma were branded as thieves, fortune tellers, and tricksters, an image reinforced by literature, art, and later, film.

Man in hat carries child on shoulder, walking past a rustic stone house in an empty field. The setting is monochrome and feels somber.

The Role of Stereotypes in Roma Persecution

One of the most enduring and harmful depictions of the Roma came from Victor Hugo’s novel The Man Who Laughs and its 1928 German Expressionist film adaptation. In it, Roma are portrayed as “comprachicos,” a fictional group who buy and mutilate children to turn them into beggars. This grotesque and completely fabricated idea fuelled fears about the Roma being dangerous and predatory. Stories like these laid the foundation for real-world prejudice, shaping the way societies viewed Roma communities for generations.

But while stereotypes painted the Roma as dangerous, the reality was that they were far more often the victims than the villains.

Two boys in an empty room; one on a bicycle, the other standing in front. Black and white photo, gritty wall background, serious mood.

The Forgotten Holocaust

During World War II, the Nazis targeted Roma as part of their racial purity policies. They were labelled as “undesirable” and deported to concentration camps, where they faced starvation, forced labour, and mass executions. Historians estimate that around 500,000 Romani people were murdered in what some have called the “forgotten Holocaust.” Unlike Jewish survivors, who were eventually acknowledged and compensated, the Roma received little recognition for their suffering. In postwar Europe, they were once again pushed to the margins, their voices unheard, their history ignored.

Even in the decades that followed, efforts to assimilate Roma communities often did more harm than good.

Three men in a room; one plays saxophone, another plays accordion. Black and white photos on walls. Rustic setting, relaxed atmosphere.

Attempts to Erase Roma Culture

In Communist Eastern Europe, governments sought to “modernise” the Roma, forcing them into fixed housing, outlawing their traditional trades, and sending their children to schools where they faced bullying and discrimination. These policies stripped many Roma of their cultural identity while never fully integrating them into mainstream society.

Musicians play violins and a double bass in a lively street scene, surrounded by a crowd. Black and white photo with a joyful atmosphere.

It was during this period that Czech-born photographer Josef Koudelka began documenting Roma communities across Europe. In the 1960s and 70s, he travelled across Czechoslovakia, Romania, Hungary, France, and Spain, living among the Roma, sleeping in their camps, and capturing their way of life through his lens. His photographs, later published in Gypsies, provided a rare and intimate look at Roma culture—not as outsiders saw them, but as they truly were.

A couple in formal attire gazes at the camera on a cobblestone street, flanked by old buildings. Black and white image, serious mood.

Challenging Stereotypes Through Art

Koudelka’s work broke away from the usual narratives of poverty and crime, instead focusing on the love, joy, and resilience within Roma families. His images captured moments of celebration, quiet reflection, and deep connection, showing a people whose culture was rich, complex, and deeply human. With the help of sociologist Will Guy, Koudelka’s photographs were accompanied by text that provided historical context, pushing back against the simplistic and often negative portrayals of the Roma that had persisted for centuries.

Three shirtless boys flex muscles in a grassy field. Wooden shack and fence in background. Other children and plants visible. Black and white photo.

The Roma Today: A Struggle for Recognition

But even today, the Roma remain one of the most marginalised groups in Europe. They still face discrimination in housing, employment, and education. In some countries, Roma children are placed in separate, lower-quality schools, limiting their opportunities for the future. Many Roma communities struggle with poverty, but rather than addressing systemic issues, governments often reinforce stereotypes, blaming the Roma for their own exclusion.

Two men stand; one plays a violin, the other adjusting his jacket. A child stands nearby. Floral patterns on a wall backdrop, no visible text.

Understanding the Roma Beyond a Single Story

Mikey Walsh’s memoir is just one man’s experience, and it is an important one. His story sheds light on the darker aspects of Romani life, particularly the rigid traditions and cycles of violence that exist in some families. But his is not the only Romani story. To truly understand the Roma, we have to look beyond a single narrative. Their culture is not just one of hardship and suffering—it is also one of strength, endurance, and an unbreakable sense of community.