This commentary is by state Rep. Tanya Vyhovsky, P/D Essex, a Ukrainian American.
I awoke on Thursday, Feb. 24, to a text message from my stepmother that read, “It’s a rough news day, started out the morning weeping. I imagine it will affect you too, but I hope not…”
I turned on the news to learn that Vladimir Putin had invaded Ukraine, a sovereign democratic nation and my family’s home for generations. As a Ukrainian American, I grew up with pictures of my grandparents and their boys in the streets of Kyiv. I have dreamed of the day when I would get to walk those streets and see the beautiful country of my family. I have traditional Ukrainian clothes from my infancy and childhood packed away for my children, and treasured Ukrainian art around my house.
But, like many children of immigrant families, my ties have loosened as I’ve gotten older. I still proudly tell people I am Ukrainian when they ask about my last name, and correct them when they inform me that there is no difference between Ukrainian and Russian.
However, without a strong Ukrainian community around me, I’ve drifted away from the day-to-day culture and language. This war has been a stunning pull back into my roots — only to see them going up in air raid smoke.
Knowing how painful it was to watch my dreams of reconnecting to my family’s homeland dissolve, I can’t imagine how horrifying this is for the courageous Ukrainians on the ground fighting for their freedom, in yet another avoidable humanitarian crisis fueled by ego and greed.
It’s been heartening to see the solidarity for Ukraine pour out. As a state legislator, I introduced an all-House resolution in solidarity with the Ukrainian people and the Russian antiwar protesters. I was overwhelmed with the way that all of my legislative colleagues and the public rose to support me.
I’ve attended rallies in solidarity with Ukraine locally, watched footage from rallies across the nation, and seen our state mobilize to rapidly send out humanitarian aid in an unprecedented manner. Political figures at all levels are taking a stand that this invasion of an independent nation is wrong — that this humanitarian crisis is appalling, and must be stopped. As a Ukrainian American, I am deeply grateful for the outpouring of support and solidarity for Ukraine and her fierce, bold and independent people.
But what has also struck me is that, while this conflict isn’t unique, the empathy our country is showing is. Sovereign nations and their people all across the globe are invaded regularly, and do not see this same outpouring of love, solidarity and support. The Syrian people, the people of Yemen, the Palestinians. Ethiopians, Iraqis, Afghans, those in Myanmar — sadly, this list goes on and on. How do we decide who is worthy of our support and solidarity and who do we ignore as they are persecuted?
I have no question that President Volodymyr Zelenskyy is a true hero and leader. When offered a way out of Ukraine he — now quite famously — responded by saying, “I do not need a ride, I need more ammunition.” He is there, on the ground, leading his people as a leader should, shoulder to shoulder with his people in their struggle.
This kind of leadership has given me an incredible sense of admiration for him. And I know that across the globe, there are other heroic leaders whose names will never make it into Western history books. Why does their courage and leadership, and the struggle of their people, matter less to us? Why is one group of refugees from a humanitarian crisis welcomed with open arms while others are left to beg for help behind barbed wire fences and wash up on beaches?
While my family’s homeland is at war at the hands of a dictator like Putin, I am struck by the privilege of whiteness and the privilege of Europeanness — even in war. I’m horrified by how often words like “civilized” have been uttered by the media to describe these victims of this despicable war. If white-appearing Ukrainians must be deigned “civilized,” what does that mean for the victims of other wars, where we have not responded with the swift solidarity and support seen for Ukraine?
I will continue to stand in solidarity with President Zelenskyy and the Ukrainian people, and with the antiwar protesters in Russia. I will continue to be thankful for the solidarity and strong support for their fight for independence and freedom. I will continue to be a proud Ukrainian American. I will treasure the connections I have made to the Ukrainian community in Vermont and beyond as I reestablish my cultural ties.
But I will do so with a close examination of my own privilege and a request that we all ask ourselves why some seem worthy of solidarity and support and so many others never see it. The response to the war in Ukraine has proven to me that we can do so much better than this. This can be a template for how we show up for anyone who is struggling with the ravages of war.