Twenty young children shuffled into vacant classrooms at Our Lady of the Lake University on a sweltering Saturday in San Antonio in early July.
A younger group of children, aged 3 to 8, started in a class that is part art and part history, squirming in their seats as Irene Tymko pulled up photos on a tablet.
They were learning about the importance of flowers in the culture of Ukraine, including the sunflower, which has become a symbol of resistance against the invasion of Russian forces last year. In another class they created wreaths out of flowers.
The Ukrainian school in San Antonio, which opened at the end of May with the help of recent Ukrainian refugees and longtime Ukrainian Americans, meets every other Saturday with the goal of keeping the distinct Ukrainian culture alive while also giving recently dislocated families a respite from the foreign world they have been thrust into.
“It’s a little piece of Ukraine here in San Antonio, especially at this moment, with the war that has been going on,” said Zoryana Marynowitz, who volunteers at the school.
Marynowitz moved to the U.S. years ago and experienced a similar cultural project in Philadelphia, where she was when the war began.
Some students in the OLLU classroom were in Ukraine on Feb. 24, 2022, when shelling began as Russian forces invaded Ukraine in what Russian leaders expected to be a short “special military operation.” But more than a year later, war has continued to rock the country, sending families to flee to communities near and far, including San Antonio.
Others, like the children of Lesia Bizid, were born in the United States but have strong ties to Ukraine, including family members there who are still dealing with the threat of Russian shelling and occupation.
Olenka Bravo, who worked with San Antonio Councilwoman Adriana Rocha Garcia to start the school over the summer, said the idea is to maintain and foster the culture and traditions of Ukraine, which are at risk of being lost as children integrate into the U.S.
Rocha Garcia, the European liaison for the council when the war broke out, echoed that thought.
“I think of my own culture, and I never want my culture to be lost,” she said. “I want it to be passed down for generations. I have a child … and I don’t want him to lose touch with his culture, and that’s exactly what I want for other kids.”
The councilwoman, also a professor at Our Lady of the Lake University, worked quickly to connect Bravo with the university earlier this year after several other events to support the growing Ukrainian community in San Antonio, including a series of medical drives and a business workshop.
Bizid, who left Eastern Ukraine seven years ago following the annexation of Crimea and other Russian incursions into the surrounding areas, said that Russia has tried to minimize Ukrainian culture consistently over the last decade, relegating it to a dialect of Russian culture.
“That is Russian propaganda, and everyone in Ukraine knows it,” said Bizid, who teaches several subjects at the Ukraine school.
Some cultural influence remains in many former members of the Soviet Union, a massive country that was broken up in 1991 into Ukraine, Russia and 13 other countries.
“It impacted not only Ukraine; ask any person from Kazakhstan, from Uzbekistan, from Armenia … Estonia, everyone can speak Russian,” she said. “It doesn’t make them Russians or mean there is no Kazakhstan culture or Ukrainian culture.”
Russia has deliberately targeted Ukrainian cultural sites throughout the most recent invasion, looted museums, and replaced local currency, flags, and wedding certificates in captured territories, according to the U.S. State Department.
That, organizers said, is one of the reasons the school is essential.
Watching the war
The war in Ukraine was personal for all the school organizers in one way or another.
“When the war started, we hardly knew if Kyiv would be taken in 72 hours,” Bravo said. “And it was horrible because my family is from there. For me, it was really difficult because I knew if Russia took over, I could never go back; I would become persona non grata.”
Bravo said that for refugee children who have been forced to leave their homes and come to a new country, the school provides much-needed stability and support.
“For those kids who are going to go back home, it’s very important to keep up with everything. Because once they get home, they’re going to be feeling weird,” she said. “For them, it’s also very important to remember the rules and not to dissolve in America.”
Marynowitz has worked with Bizid and others to navigate how to discuss the traumatic and ongoing war with the children, who regularly ask for updates.
“This is a tragedy for these kids,” Bizid said. “They lost their homes, their toys, or even their relatives. It’s really hard for them to feel comfortable in a foreign country. “
Marynowitz recalled walking in on her daughter packing up toys amid the scramble to support Ukraine in the early days of the war, when she was still in Philadelphia.
“She said the kids in Ukraine need these more than I do,” Marynowitz recalled through tears. “And that’s when she was four.”
More than a year later, her daughter regularly asks when she will get to return to play with her new friends at the newly opened school.
But talking about the war is still difficult for the kids, especially those who came to San Antonio from some of the country’s hardest-hit regions.
“It’s definitely a lot, and maybe other kids at that age don’t understand that yet,” Marynowitz said. “But I feel like it needed to be talked about.”
But she is careful to not pry, she said, and taught her daughter the same.
“She definitely knows what’s going on. And she knows not to ask people about stuff,” she said. “Because you don’t want to traumatize others.”
Students are also learning about American culture and values, including a lesson recently on the Fourth of July. The children attend public schools across San Antonio and the surrounding areas, including La Vernia, east of San Antonio.
The varying language proficiencies make the lessons unique and challenging, but teachers have managed to split the class up to help novice Ukrainian speakers begin to learn English.
The school is in the process of incorporating as a nonprofit, with supplies and expertise coming from parents on a volunteer basis.
“We’re just parents, and that’s what we’re putting all together, just every idea that we have,” Marynowitz said.
Bravo said school and art supplies can be donated to help the school, which can be reached through their Facebook page.
Bizid said that as the war persists, the school is something she sees as her calling.
“For me personally, it means a lot, and I feel it’s like my duty as a Ukrainian. If I can do anything to help my country and my people, I will do it,” she said. “Teaching Ukrainian culture to these kids is my way of giving back to my country.”
This story has been updated to correct the spelling of Lesia Bizid’s surname.
