“You have to hope that you’ll survive”

Anna, until the very last moment we weren’t sure this virtual interview could take place. Where are you right now, and how are you doing?

I’m in my flat in Kyiv. Actually, we’ve caught a very good moment for this interview: the heating has been back on for three days now, I don’t have electricity at the moment, but I did at 9:00 am. And my internet provider has installed batteries in the router, so the connection can last for exactly six hours, which should just be long enough for us to finish this virtual meeting. You see, life here is unpredictable. We never know from one moment to the next whether we’ll have electricity, heating, or water.

Is this the reality of life for everyone in Kyiv at the moment?

Yes, let me show you. I’ll “take” you to my balcony. Here you can see my “fridge.” The outside temperature was minus 20 °C last week, and now it‘s around zero, so there’s still no need to waste electricity on cooling food. And look over here: the State Emergency Service has set up a large heated tent with a generator in our yard. People can get hot water, warm food, and charge their devices there once or twice a day. It’s loud and uncomfortable at night, but it’s lifesaving, especially for elderly residents. The building next to mine has been completely without heating since the 9th of January. It’s horrible. Pipes froze and burst, and then there was flooding… It’s a humanitarian catastrophe.

Even with these constant worries, you’re still making time for this call. Why is that?

Because getting on with life, staying connected, and maintaining routines is essential. Trauma specialists say that it’s crucial to restore some sense of normalcy whenever possible. If we stop connecting and working, we lose a part of ourselves.

Normalcy regarding your work at TolerSpace means holding tolerance and resilience training courses and historical memory workshops with young people. Is it possible to keep this educational program going?

We try. Luckily, our designer is in Argentina and my editor works from the Czech Republic. They’re currently finalizing materials from our latest school project. It was devoted to the topic of forced labor during World War II in Nazi Germany and also forced labor in the Soviet Gulag. And our team from Enerhodar did a project on modern-day forced labor during the occupation, which was based on testimonies from workers at the nuclear power station. The Russian occupiers are using torture and harassment to force them to perform various tasks. These are all very difficult topics.

Was it possible to meet in person?

Actually, yes. We organized four “Project Schools,” each lasting five days. They took place in Ukraine, and we also brought teachers and students to Poland, to our partners’ foundation. It’s safe there; you can relax, you have electricity and heating all the time, and there are no air raids. I love the moment at the railway station when they finally meet their teacher and everyone just lights up. Most of them hadn’t seen their teachers in person since before COVID, when they were only 11 years old. We had teams from all over Ukraine, including places like Kramatorsk and Kostiantynivka—cities that are now under occupation or have been completely erased. Only one team participated virtually, which was good news. In November, three teams couldn’t join in person.

Some might think the current war situation is tough enough—why expose the students and yourself to even more painful subjects?

Because people want to know. I was surprised myself, but since the full-scale invasion, interest in history—especially the Nazi era—has actually exploded. On our educational TikTok page, young people are creating and consuming content because history has suddenly become cool. It’s a way for them to reclaim their identity. This trend is driven by a deep need for answers.

Russia is currently using “National Socialism” to justify its attacks, and students don’t find enough clarity in their traditional school lessons to counter this narrative so they turn to the internet. They want to discover the truth about past injustices and repressions. Uncovering things that were hidden (like writers banned by the Soviets, or the history of repressions) has become a powerful trend. They even wear T-shirts with the faces of these formerly silenced figures. Of course, uncovering history doesn’t mean they only focus on ‘righteous’ or ‘good’ Ukrainian deeds. And different people find meaning in different things…

How do young people cope with the situation?

Many are isolated in their flats or houses, but they have a strong need for connection. The need for communication is probably one of their main concerns. On the other hand, I notice how difficult in-person communication has become for them. Unfortunately, I see this mostly with displaced teenagers whose families have lost their homes or fled. I’ve seen teenagers who just sit with their phones all day, even during schooling.

At the end of December, we experienced a very heavy air attack, a very difficult night, followed by a day without anything. That evening, we were supposed to hold an online youth discussion club. We thought maybe only one person would show up. But then eight or nine teenagers joined. They didn’t have their cameras on, they were just on their phones, but they stayed for three hours.

So, at the moment you don‘t have any premises where young people can meet?

No, we’ve been working online since COVID. I would love to have a safe space, a training room for us, and the students, but maintaining an office would lead to additional worries and costs that I simply couldn‘t manage right now—especially this winter with the attacks on the infrastructure in Kyiv. Kyiv is very dependent on just two or three power stations for heating and electricity. For me, as the leader of the organization, this situation is very difficult for me personally.

I hope our program provides young people with a network so they can meet people. We use many specially facilitated exercises, working in small groups or pairs, and we also try to have some fun. You can’t do this work without incorporating humor, beauty, or something positive. That’s also what Holocaust survivors and psychologists Viktor Frankl and Edith Eger said: even in the darkest situations, you can always find a small spot of light or joy. That’s my own experience as well. Of course, I can’t compare my situation to theirs.

What has brought you joy lately?

If you just stop worrying about things getting worse and remain open, then somehow help finds its way to you: Last week, when I had no electricity for three days and no heating… We have fish in an aquarium. And fish need warm water! So we were heating the water using a portable power station. It’s really big, and it weighs about seven kilos. In order to charge it, I drove to the right bank of Kyiv—it’s a good thing I have a car! A colleague of a colleague, someone I don’t even know, works in an IT office, where they had electricity.

It was very hard to park nearby, and I would have had to carry the heavy power station for about a kilometer through icy streets. So I decided to call this woman that I‘d never met before and ask for help. This was an interesting experience for me on an interpersonal level, because I’m usually the one helping others. Now I was the one who needed help. It showed me that you need a certain amount of internal energy to go somewhere and ask for something. It wasn’t easy!

Talking about helping: TolerSpace is also helping Arolsen Archives. Your organization is the official cooperation partner of #StolenMemory Ukraine. Why did you decide to support our search for these families?

My father’s mother, Silviya Lenchovska, was half-Jewish. In October 1942, she was sent to Germany and had to do forced labor in the Buchenwald sub-camp Sömmerda. After the war, she talked a lot about it. The first time I heard her talking about it, I was four. So I have this personal connection. And now, during this current war, when people are losing so much, being able to return something to someone feels like a dream.

It’s like a miracle: finding someone, finding a family who will treasure this letter, or this necklace of a relative who was in a concentration camp, mostly things that belonged to women? So how can we find these 70 families? We’re using the traveling exhibition to draw people’s attention to the topic, to share information, names, and stories. Perhaps someone will recognize something. But it’s tremendously complicated now. You have to hope that you’ll survive, and then maybe in ten years, you might be at a ceremony where a necklace is returned to someone’s great-grandchild.

How can organizations or people here help you to stay alive?

What we need at the moment are power banks and thermal clothing to help us keep warm. But my deepest wish is for the attacks to stop. I want Russia to stop attacking schools so that students and teachers can have classrooms with windows and heating—a place that can truly be a safe space for communication and learning. I think that’s the most important thing.