30 years ago I left my homeland…
Ukraine was in disarray, having just regained its independence from the Soviet Union. My mom knew there was no economic future for me in the country with a shattered economy, on the brink of collapse, and made the most selfless and sacrificial thing any parent can do: she let go of me not knowing how little we would see each other. Mom, I understand you now, because I don’t see my children as much as I wish I could.
Caryl Bloem, pictured above, agreed to my mom’s pleading and worked hard to bring me as an exchange teacher to Pinewood Elementary School in Mounds View School District, Minnesota. I started Tuesday after Labor Day of September 5, 1995.
I was 22 years old. I just graduated with a degree in teaching English as a foreign language; and at the US Embassy, in response to why I’m going to the USA, I proudly said, “The reason for my visit is to teach English!”. I got my visa by a miracle from God who worked through Rod Grams, MN State Senator at that time who intervened on my behalf at the Ukrainian Consulate in Kyiv. There is so much about that story that I decided to write my memoir in 2018: From Borsch to Burgers: A Cross-Cultural Memoir.
On September 3, 1995, I packed my bag, full of Ukrainian souvenirs, to teach Americans about my culture. There were more souvenirs than all the clothes I owned. The dark green sweater I am wearing in that picture was borrowed from my girlfriend. The denim light blue skirt was A-line, long and made me look tall, fashionable, and very un-Soviet. I got that skirt from an American from Jacksonville, Florida. I translated for that group during their missionary trip in 1993. They brought a bunch of second hand clothing to give away, and when they gave me that denim skirt, it was like shopping at Macy’s. The rain coat in the picture was purchased by my parents from selling their fattest pig. The moment of gifting me that coat was very ceremonial, with tears and a speech full of pride, hard work, and sacrificial love. It was similar to how wealthy parents present their child with keys to a new house or a luxurious car. I was presented with a French Chanel raincoat bought with the fattest pig. I wrote about it with more details in my memoir From Borsch to Burgers: A Cross-Cultural Memoir.
I was proud of my souvenirs. I collected them across community centers and shops, looking for something Ukrainian to bring. Not Soviet, but Ukrainian. It was harder than you think. The Soviets wanted to choke everything Ukrainian: our music was in Russian, our education was in Russian, our TV was in Russian, our knowledge and research were distributed in Russian (my thesis was written in Russian). For those reasons, finding Ukrainian souvenirs was nearly impossible. Plus, my dad, a civil engineer, was building as a volunteer our first ever church in our village, brick by brick, and he didn’t have any income. So, buying lacquered plates with intricate designs was completely outside of our reach. I managed to bring a statue of a girl and a boy embracing (my parents’ wedding gift) and a one wooden plate with a painted floral design. My job was to represent my country “with dignity”, as I say in my memoir. 30 years later, I am President of a Ukrainian non-profit celebrating Ukrainian culture and representing my country with dignity and pride through festivals and cultural events. And it’s happening at the time when we are still fighting for our independence and survival.
Why am I talking about my little suitcase “full of Ukrainian souvenirs”? Because being Ukrainian and remaining Ukrainian is the most important thing for me, in my long 30 years of my very American life. Many of our immigrant children did not get a chance to pack their souvenirs. But they packed their identity, their pride, their language, their stories – all of that no one can take that away from them. No one. Not even ICE.
What am I most proud of as a Ukrainian-American immigrant? Here are few highlights.
- I started as an immigrant ESL teacher to immigrant children in 1996 and continue to be an ESL teacher at heart in everything I do: from training school leaders internationally, to working at WIDA as a researcher impacting immigrant lives through “an unapologetically ambitious” standards, to writing this blog.
- My children who chose careers in education and psychology to impact humanity.
- I learned how to integrate, embrace and push back, question and protest, vote and contribute to the US society.
- I’m proud of all the learning, unlearning, and relearning that I did in the last 30 years, because to be an educator is to be an in the business of unlearning and relearning, which requires humility.
- I came from an oral literacy culture, didn’t know how to write a research paper in 1996 (and wrote a reflection paper instead) and I’m proud of my oral culture, and how writing allowed me to reach global audiences. Through hard work and encouragement of many people, first and foremost, my beloved honey Rob, I cracked the academic written code, and successfully defended my dissertation on the WIDA Standards in 2014, and published three academic books (Making Language Visible in Social Studies, Scaffolding for Multilingual Learners in Elementary and Secondary Schools, the third one is an SFL Toolkit for Disciplinary Learning (coming soon), and one memoir.
I can’t wait to see what the next 30 years will bring.
Thank you for reading and thank you for wishing me a happy anniversary of immigrating.
Making Language Visible 
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