Tonia: I recognized I needed to be strong for my daughter

“Russia has invaded.  School is canceled.”

Tonia*, a 41-year-old teacher and single mother, received this message from her school’s director on the morning of February 24, 2022, the day Russia invaded Ukraine.  She was required to call the parents of her students to tell them school was canceled that day.  Who knew—and who knows—how long this war will last?

“I started to cry,” Tonia remembers.  “My colleagues and I were all crying.  We were in shock and felt this immediate sadness. We feared for our children and loved ones.  We realized that a lot of families’ sons would suddenly be mobilized to defend Ukraine from Russia’s unprovoked assault.  I trembled with fear.  It was hard to believe this was actually happening.  I telephoned my friend and learned that her husband was already activated.  As Ukrainians, we became united in that moment, in our fear and in our grief.”

A deep, emotional chasm formed, delineating Tonia’s life before and after the start of war.  Tonia grew up in a Ukrainian Orthodox family in southwestern Ukraine, near Odessa, in a town along the Danube River.  She graduated from university with a degree in elementary education and worked as a teacher.  She is the primary caregiver for her bright, seven-year-old daughter, Liza* with auburn braids and a love of drawing.  Liza’s artwork is the featured image in this story.

“Thanks to God, there were no bombings in our town that first day,” Tonia said.  “There were rocket attacks on military installations several miles aways.  We could hear the explosions and feel the tremors which increased our fear.  We scrambled to find windowless areas to hide in our flats and homes—-interior rooms and corridors felt safer.”

Tonia’s decision to leave Ukraine after the Russian invasion was exacerbated by personal factors.  She is fiercely protective of her daughter Liza, committed to ensuring her well-being.  Tonia ended her marriage after her husband engaged in psychological abuse and child manipulation, common tactics of controlling partners. Tonia and Liza left home on June 27, 2022, four months after the war started.

“I packed documents, a backpack of everyday necessities including an umbrella, toys for Liza and her sketchbook,” Tonia said.  “Liza brought her favorite stuffed animal, a kitten she calls ‘Koshenya’ (Ukrainian for “Kitten”).  She still sleeps with ‘Koshenya.’”

They journeyed over 700 miles, over several days, in a bus overflowing with refugees, to arrive in Krakow.  It was long.  It was tiring. 

“We waited for 12 hours at the Ukrainian-Polish border,” Tonia said.  “I remember seeing all these evergreens through the window, planted in rows, lining the roadway.  I lived for years in southern Ukraine, near the Black Sea, where there aren’t so many fir trees.  This was different…and beautiful.”

Tonia and Liza disembarked at Krakow Glowny, the city’s central bus and railway station on July 2, 2022, after a five-day busride.  They were totally worn out.  They were dazed by the hum of activity as the area swarmed with refugees and volunteers offering assistance.

“I remember standing at the railway with Liza, with our few belongings,” Tonia said.  “I was afraid to move. I didn’t speak the language and Liza needed to go to the bathroom.  I was feeling vulnerable, tired and scared.  I’d barely slept on the bus and was deeply exhausted. I wondered at that moment if it would have been better for us to have not left Ukraine.  I RECOGNIZED I NEEDED TO BE STRONG FOR MY DAUGHTER.  My daughter had no one else at that moment to help her.  I gathered my thoughts.  I realized I could be brave.”

“Volunteers gave Liza and me a real helping hand,” Tonia said.  “They opened their hearts and genuinely cared about us.  They connected me to people who could help us settle in.  We received a level of assistance I never truly felt before.”

Tonia mentioned a surprising and highly valued technology providing key assistance:  a free, online chat service for refugees, staffed by Poles and available via Telegram 24 hours a day, 7 days a week.  Tonia established contact with “Martynka” on June 27th—the day she left Ukraine–and “Martynka” began acting as a virtual case manager helping with immediate and longer term needs.  Tonia continues to reach out to “Martynka” as needed AND “Martynka” proactively initiates check-ins as they acclimate and plan next steps.

Once in Poland, “Martynka” connected Tonia and Liza with a lifeline of free support. Tonia was referred to Salam Lab (www.SalamLab.pl), an all-encompassing migrant assistance program in Krakow.  Connecting with this organization allowed Tonia to secure free housing–for one year–plus free access to childcare, healthcare (e.g., physical and psychological), legal counsel, translation services and assistance with navigating the vagaries of a new culture and a new bureaucracy.  

“Monika, the Director of the help center, was amazing,” Tonia said.  “She was really kind and attentive to our needs.  She helped in so many ways and connected us with a special program that offered a full year of support. I was finally able to calm down.  I now realize all the possibilities for Liza and me to recover some sense of normalcy.  I feel safe. I no longer worry that Liza and I might end up homeless, on the street.”

I asked Tonia, if she were able to speak to Vladimir Putin directly, what would she say to him.  Her response reflects the unreality of a sovereign nation being invaded, unprovoked and unjustifiably.

“It is so hard to imagine what I would say in this unimaginable circumstance,” Tonia said.  “I think I would tell him, ‘We never invited you to our home.  We lived peacefully, with happiness and stability before your invasion.  We never invited you to our home.’”

“I think it’s important for Americans to know how much we appreciate their support, in the war effort and in refugee relief (e.g., financial support from the help center),” Tonia said.  “I want Americans to know only the TRUTH about this war.  Ukrainians want and deserve to feel ‘at home’ in their country.  Ukrainians want to feel safe.  Ukrainians want to be with their families, celebrating holidays in their homeland.  Ukrainians don’t want to have to bury their loved ones because of this senseless war.  It is unfair that Russia chose to invade Ukraine, breaking 21st century rules of respecting established borders while unleashing deadly attacks and forcing so many people to suffer.”

“I hope the American people will see that Ukrainianas are strong, kind, generous, hospitable and open-minded people,” Tonia said.  “We do things with big hearts.  This war, after so many agonizing days and months into this tragedy, has united us in our grief, in our suffering and in our little victories. Ukrainian citizens at home are doing what they can to support our young boys who are soldiers—from baking bread to preparing food for them amid shortages, little money and mangled infrastructure. We want to be independent and able to support our people.  This is very important for people to understand:  Ukraine never asked for any ‘help’ from Russia.”

“I am really, really grateful to people who helped my daughter and me feel safe,” Tonia said.  “I genuinely appreciate the non-Ukrainians who have taken time to understand our plight and chose to help us, with open hearts, without expecting anything in return.  It is important for me to be USEFUL, to work and contribute.  It is my way to express gratitude for the help Liza and I are receiving.

SPECIAL THANKS TO Maryna for her wonderful translation assistance!

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*Pseudonym

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