As a Ukrainian American, I’m horrified to see Biden give up on my homeland
It started with a flood of increasingly desperate messages. Are you awake? Oh God, this is horrible. I feel like I’m in a living nightmare. The people I love are listening to the sounds of planes and missiles. Meanwhile, here in the US, I am listening to the most frightening sound of all: the sound of our president giving up on Ukraine
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Your support makes all the difference.To be of Ukrainian descent on 24 February 2022 is to be a pseudo-celebrity. Messages from friends and classmates pour in. Reporters reach out for a quote or an interview. Everyone, without fail, asks if I still have family in Ukraine. As if it makes a difference. As if not having family there would make the slaughter more bearable somehow.
As it happens, I do have family in Ukraine. My relatives, as far as I know, are safe – for now.
When Putin began amassing troops on my country’s border, Ukrainians kept calm and carried on. The same message rang out everywhere: Stay positive. Support Ukraine. Don’t panic. This plays directly into the enemy’s hands.
I stayed positive and didn’t panic. Not until today.
It started with a flood of increasingly desperate messages.
Are you awake?
Oh God, this is horrible.
I feel like I’m in a living nightmare.
I called the country director of the nonprofit I run in Ukraine. I didn’t want to look at the news; I wanted to hear it from him. “Putin attacked everywhere,” he told me. “All regions, all big cities. There are no more airports.”
My contact had to get back to preparing bomb shelters. I hung up and sprang into action – busyness, it turns out, is the best way to ward off despair. I answered calls. I talked to reporters and connected them to students on the ground in Ukraine. I sent messages of reassurance. I made donations and contacted other shell-shocked Ukrainians. I collected footage of Ukraine to share.
I saw a video of a soldier’s dead body lying by a tank. I saw a video of a mother rushing her toddler into a bomb shelter as missiles flew. I heard so many explosions on those videos. They felt out of place in the residential neighborhoods from which the footage was taken.
I still cannot believe people I love have to hear these explosions in real life, have to see the planes flying overhead. People tell me they’re scared. Again and again, they ask me how to stay calm. I don’t know how to answer them. It’s night in Ukraine, but people are afraid to sleep. They’ve heard the planes are coming to bomb cities. They stay awake, waiting for the sirens, the whoosh of missiles, explosions.
Meanwhile, here in the US, I am listening to the most frightening sound of all: the sound of our president giving up on Ukraine. More meaningless words, more empty threats. Joe Biden’s message is clear: no boots on the ground, no military support. Even the sanctions aren’t as strong as they could be, stopping short of cutting Russia off the SWIFT global interbank payments system.
My godmother calls from St Petersburg. They’re surprised too – they had expected small skirmishes in the east, not a full-out war. “But listen,” she says. “What else could have happened? Ukraine’s a small country. It’s got to be in someone’s sphere of influence. The US and Europe clearly aren’t stepping up to support it. So it’s gotta be Putin.”
As much as I hate to admit it, she’s right. And perhaps that’s what hurts the most. As an immigrant, I was raised on the idea of the American Dream, of America as the good guy, the defender of liberty. The First World War and the Second World War seemed relics of the distant past, their lessons learned.
Democracy isn’t something to take for granted. There are always dictators with global ambitions waiting in the wings. There cannot be peace without the “good guys” – even flawed, struggling good guys – offering protection and support.
My parents brought me to the US when I was a child, but I have always identified as Ukrainian. Two years ago, I created a nonprofit to help Ukrainian youth. ENGin, my organization, connects young Ukrainians to English-speaking volunteers for free online language practice and cultural exchange. Our mission is – or was? – to transform Ukraine through the power of one-on-one, cross-cultural connections; to create a generation of Ukrainians fluent in English, spurring investment, economic growth, and international collaboration.
Over the past two years, we’ve worked with nearly 6,000 young Ukrainians in all regions of the country, and 5,000 volunteers all across the US and beyond. Building these connections strengthened my own relationship to my homeland, making the recent events that much more painful.
There are demonstrations worldwide, and social media is filled with support for my country — but after Biden’s speech it all feels rather meaningless. Ukraine is not strong enough to fend off Putin alone. What are our choices? Die by the thousands for our freedom in an ultimately fruitless fight, taking out thousands of Russians with us? Or surrender to Putin outright, say goodbye to the country we’ve been painstakingly building over the last 30 years?
When I woke up today, Putin had attacked my country. I’m afraid that when I wake up tomorrow, my country will no longer exist.