Thinking
On Tuesday 26th of February, Year 9 students had the opportunity to spend a day with a parent and explore the world of work. I decided to spend the day with my mother who, on Tuesdays, takes a day off her regular job to volunteer together with a group of fellow volunteers to teach English to Ukrainians who have recently arrived in the UK.
What struck me at once, were the friendships and community of the Ukrainian students. It is difficult to believe that most of the students had never met each other before the war in Ukraine. If someone didn’t understand something said in the lesson, the others would endeavour to help them by translating the word back into Ukrainian or would help them in other ways. Another striking characteristic of the students was their appetite to learn. When a new word was introduced, all would chime into a chorus, practising the new word and its proper English pronunciation.
The lesson is divided into two parts: a grammar and written session and a conversational lesson. I was lucky enough to be given the opportunity to lead the conversational part of the lesson. I decided that in the 10 minutes slot allotted to me to lead the lesson, it would be interesting to hear everyone’s stories and testimonies about their hometowns in Ukraine. What is their hometown known for? What did they enjoy most about living there?
The day of the lesson fell almost one year to the day when the war broke out, changing all these students’ lives. I was overwhelmed by the candour with which the students spoke; they found it important to share their stories and spoke proudly and with longing about their country and hometowns. With so much to say, my allocated 10-minute slot was extended and lasted well beyond the end of the lesson.
The seven students in the class had never met each other before the war. All but one of the students are female. This is because Ukrainian men have had to remain in Ukraine either for conscription to the army or to work to sustain the country. They came from different parts of Ukraine, which is a vast country. One student is from Bucha, which is near Kyiv. Another from Chernivtsi. And others from Crimea, Kryvyi Rih, Odessa, Zaporizhzhia and Kharkiv. They also come from different backgrounds and religious traditions. Ukraine is home to Christians, Jews and Muslims. The students have had completely different life experiences. One woman, for instance, is a senior paediatrician, another an accountant, one is an influencer, one is a young mother while two are still students. There is a wide range of ages among the students, from those in their sixties to one who is still a teenager. Equally, they have had very different experiences of the war, from those who escaped from the heavily bombed Eastern part of Ukraine to one who had herself hosted refugees in her home in the West of Ukraine near the border with Romania as the refugees she hosted awaited permits to cross the border into Europe. They have had to leave their worlds behind: parents, husbands, siblings, children, grandchildren, friends and more. But the class was united by their love for their vast, beautiful country and their hope for the war to end so that they can return one day to their homes and the lives they left behind.
These are three of the seven wonderful testimonies I had the privilege to hear:
The only male student on the entire programme of 40 students has come to England with his grandmother. He is seventeen years old, and younger than some pupils at NLCS. He has not seen his parents for nearly a year. He is also a tech whizz and started studying remotely for a Computer Science degree at a university in Kyiv.
He comes from Kryvyi Rih, which is in the centre of Ukraine, and according to him, is not a special town. Boasting neither impressive architecture nor picturesque scenery, it is a very industrial city surrounded by mines and quarries. It is known for being the longest city in Europe, and it is famous for being President Zelensky’s hometown.
But for him, Kryvyi Rih is home. He misses his school, he misses his local supermarket, he misses his friends, he misses his parents and his 9-year-old sister. And he most enjoyed the sunrise and sunset which he used to see from the bridge he crossed every day as he walked to and from his school when the sun would cast a familiar golden light onto the restless seas below.
The second student is from Kharkiv. She was emotional when realising she could only speak about her hometown in the past tense. Kharkiv, as she remembers it, no longer exists, because it is the second most shelled city in Ukraine after Mariupol. She remembers her hometown with its grand historically significant architecture, its monuments, elegant boulevards, its world-renowned university and natural beauty. In fact, Kharkiv used to be the capital of Ukraine before Kyiv. But what she misses most about Kharkiv is her art studio, the smells of the paint, and the feel of the paint on her fingers and hands.
The third student reminisced nostalgically about her home in Odessa. She misses most the smell of Odessa – the smell of the sea that is all pervasive, the smell of spring, the smell of the fruit trees in her home’s garden, and she even misses the unpleasant smell emanating from the fish market on long hot summer days. As well as the sea breezes, the beach, and the famous Potemkin steps in Odessa, which lead down to the port and have made countless appearances in famous films. She also spoke fondly about the magnificent architecture in Odessa and her family’s beach club.
Hearing the testimonies of these displaced people was moving and meaningful. When hearing about events in the news, or seeing pictures of the conflict, it is too easy to forget about the individual lives that have been affected by the war. Lives that have had to be put on hold and have been so abruptly interrupted, people who have lost their homes, and who have been separated from their loved ones. What struck me most was the bravery of these seven people who I had never met before my “Take your Daughter to work” experience, who had the courage to share their stories with me even though they found each other’s stories harrowing.
To my surprise, this was the first time they had shared their experiences with each other, something they recognised was important. And all of them ended their talk with an invitation for me to visit their homes in Ukraine when the war comes to an end, and it is safe enough for them to return and rebuild what they have left behind. This invitation, from strangers with no homes, was undoubtedly a reflection of their immense optimism and faith in a return to normality in Ukraine, or possibly a reflection of the enormous gratitude they feel towards the United Kingdom for its warm hospitality while they are displaced from their own homes. Or perhaps both.
Lia, NLCS student
In the lesson, Lia asked each of the students to write a sentence about what they missed in their hometown, which she then used to create the poster below:
