I was eight months old when my mom’s side of the family, my parents, and I immigrated from Ukraine to the United States. I was four years old when I went on my first annual summer trip to Ukraine. I was 13 years old when, for the first time in nine years, my annual Ukrainian summer was canceled due to Russia’s illegal annexation of Crimea and ongoing tensions in the Donbas region. I was 20 years old when I visited my grandparents in Kyiv, unknowingly probably for the last time, and I was almost 21 years old when a full-blown war took over my home country.
My Experience in Ukraine
In Ukraine, I had the time of my life. Every summer, I spent two months with my paternal grandparents in Donetsk, Crimea, and Kyiv, seeing my dad’s side of the family, going to plays and concerts, and doing everything a child could dream of. I spent most of my time in Donetsk, where I was born and where my grandparents resided. Since they owned several houses throughout Ukraine, we spent a few weeks of the summer in Crimea and Kyiv as well. In Crimea, we used to go to this hotel almost every day to use their pool. We’d spend all day hanging out in the sun, reading, going down the huge waterslide, and I have very fond memories of eating chicken tenders with fries every day for lunch, which was, obviously, amazing. Sometimes we’d go to the beach, which was unlike any other beach I had ever been to. I remember what stood out to me most as a child was that instead of a sandy beach, there were rocks and small pebbles. That image is forever ingrained in my brain.
I don’t have many memories from Kyiv just because we didn’t spend a lot of time there, but it was usually the arrival and departure destination, so we’d always make a stop there. I have memories of driving from Donetsk to Kyiv (or the other way around), which was a nine-hour drive, and along the way, we’d stop at this restaurant that served the most amazing Borscht and bread.
I also remember my grandparents had a dacha, and we’d go there for a night or two every summer. A lot of my dad’s old toys and model airplanes were kept here, and it was so cool being surrounded by activities my dad enjoyed when he was younger. The dacha was a nice and relaxing environment (except for the mosquitos), and I remember cherry-picking, playing the accordion, and playing badminton in the small courtyard. All of these memories are very dear to me, and I’ll cherish them forever.
My Grandma
None of this would have been possible without my grandparents, but more importantly, without my grandma. I love my grandparents deeply, and my grandpa was a huge reason for our trips, luxurious dining experiences, and comfortable lifestyle, but at the center of all of this was my grandma. She spent every minute of every summer for nine years with me (and my younger brother, once he started joining me four years later), finding ways to entertain us and keep us happy, healthy, and well-fed (always). Even when I visited my grandparents this past December, there was a surplus of food, which kept my stomach very satisfied.
I remember as a child, in Donetsk, my grandma would take me to this children’s play zone a few times a week, and I was so happy. There was nothing better than go-karts, bouncy castles, arcade games, and pizza and soda after a few hours of running around. And if you think about it, what kind of grandma wants to be in that kind of environment? Mine, because she knew it made me happy.
I admire my grandma a lot, and in more ways than I’d like to admit, I feel that we are very similar. When Russia invaded Crimea in 2014 and separatist movements broke out in Donbas (where Donetsk is), we could not go on our usual trip to Ukraine. Instead of giving up and accepting an abrupt ending to our summer trips, my grandma took me and my brother to other cool places. In the summer of 2014, we went to Spain and in 2015, we went to Bulgaria. In 2016, after two years of not going to Ukraine, we went to Odesa, which is a beach city in southern Ukraine, and although it was good to be back, it was definitely different than the Ukraine I was used to. The summer of 2016 was our last time abroad with our grandma, and now, I wish we had so many more. I’m so grateful to my grandma for doing everything she could to make our summers amazing.
The Current Crisis
Two and a half weeks ago, when I read that Russia had invaded and declared war on Ukraine, I burst into tears. I thought about my grandparents, who had already had to leave behind their home and comfort in 2014, and the thought of them having to do it again broke my heart. I thought about Ukraine, a place I had only ever thought of as beautiful, sunny, warm, peaceful, and welcoming, and its destruction. Since then, every morning I would text my grandma to ask how she was doing since she was in Kyiv all alone (my grandpa was out of the country). Every time I texted I could only hope and pray that she would respond and that she was still alive, which she thankfully was, but her responses were less than ideal. I cannot describe in words how scary it is not knowing if your family is alive and being aware of the fact that that status could change in a matter of minutes, and I hope that none of you ever have to experience that. I hadn’t slept well for a while since then, and only the other day I started getting back into my regular sleeping schedule. If I was such a mess, I don’t even want to think about how my grandma was.
Luckily, a few days ago, my grandma made it out of Ukraine and into Romania. The evacuation process was extremely nerve-racking for everyone, especially my grandma, who had to spend a night at the refugee camp at the Romanian border. Do you know how sickening, saddening, and heartbreaking it is to think about your grandparent having to sleep in a tent, in a sleeping bag, with a bunch of strangers in the same situation because someone decided to invade your home for no good reason? After that night, she made it to the capital city and is now staying in a nice hotel there and will be coming to Colorado in the next few days. But the last few weeks have been a living hell. Again, I can’t even imagine how it felt to be someone experiencing all of this, but witnessing it from the outside was terrible.
A Sense of Ukrainian Nationalism
Even though I don’t remember living in Ukraine and I’ve spent 99% of my life in the United States, I can’t say that I’ve ever identified with being American. I know that sounds ridiculous because I am a U.S. citizen, I’ve been through the American education system, and so much of my life has been influenced by American culture, but I have always been proud to be Ukrainian and felt much more in touch with that part of myself than I think anyone would expect. Much of Ukraine is Russian-speaking, so growing up (and still to this day), my family and I speak Russian at home. I love Ukrainian music, Ukrainian culture, Ukrainian food, even the Ukrainian language is beautiful and I want to learn it, now more than ever. I’m so grateful and lucky that my parents carried our Ukrainian identity throughout our life in the United States for the last 20 years, and they are a huge part of why I feel such a strong sense of Ukrainianism.
When I was younger, the feeling was hard to conceptualize, but being back there in my early 20s a few months ago, I felt a very strong sense of Ukrainian identity; I felt “at home”. I love that I’m Ukrainian and that I have knowledge and experience of a culture much different than that of the United States. When Ukraine was invaded, and I saw all of the social media posts of the Ukrainian people fighting for their country and being so proud of it, my sense of Ukrainian nationalism was heightened to a level I’d never experienced before. If I didn’t feel it enough before, I definitely feel beyond proud to be Ukrainian now.
Ukraine is a beautiful, peaceful country, and the Ukrainian people are proud of where they come from. Putin’s unjustified invasion of Ukraine is a crime against humanity, and to have personally witnessed how his cruel actions have taken a toll on my family is a pain that I cannot describe. I will always remember Ukraine as a happy place, one where I spent so much of my childhood, and one where I felt safe and protected. I hope that one day, the citizens of Ukraine can once again feel safe, protected, and happy in their homeland. For now, please educate yourself on the Ukraine-Russia crisis by reading articles like this one and donate to reliable resources which can be found here.