A Journey of Identity and Solidarity in the Face of Russian Aggression

A rake and a rag: fighting for people, mending broken lives

The story of my dedication to Ukrainians fighting Russian aggression traces back to my early years. I was born in Puck, a medieval town on the Baltic Sea, in 1965. Within my family, there is a unique history that shapes my perspective. My grandmother, Helena, belonged to the Kaszub ethnic group, which has been part of Polish and occasionally German communities for centuries. In the midst of World War II, in 1942, she married a German man named Bernard. However, their union was met with hostility and ostracism, as marrying someone from the "enemy" side was seen as a betrayal.

Tragically, my grandfather Bernard took his own life in May 1943, just three months after my mother was born. This event further deepened the hardships my family endured. My grandmother, Helena, faced arrest by the Gestapo and endured more than a week of confinement. During this time, kind neighbors provided support, feeding and sheltering my mother in a chicken coop to keep her safe. When my grandmother returned home, her hands were broken, and I often wondered about the origin of her crooked fingers. It was not until I reached the age of 17 that I learned the harrowing details of her experiences.

Additionally, the impact of Stalin's brutal actions reverberated through my father's Polish-Georgian family. Some relatives perished in the Katyń massacre, while others were condemned to die in Siberia. These stories, along with my grandmother's resilience despite her physical scars, left a lasting impression on me.

As I reflect on the challenges my family has faced, I am compelled to stand with Ukrainians in their fight against Russian aggression. The courage and strength exhibited by my ancestors inspire me to support those who seek freedom and justice.

The profound suffering endured by my grandmother, etched into her being by the brutalities of war, left an indelible mark on both my mother and myself. For my beloved grandmother, the war never truly ended. She carried the eternal love and longing for her deceased husband, and the pain of loss was sometimes alleviated by an extra glass of vodka. Her wisdom transcended national boundaries, instilling in me a profound belief in a greater Good that encompasses all humanity. Her words continue to resonate within me: "Joasiu, remember, there are never just good Poles and bad Germans, but only good and bad people."

At the tender age of seven, in Soviet Poland, I was told that I lacked artistic talent but showed promise in mathematics. Thus, I was placed in an experimental math class. Physics came naturally to me, and by the time I turned 15, I was offered a place in a secondary school near Warsaw that specialized in preparing students for careers in nuclear physics. However, a wise professor cautioned me against pursuing this path, foreseeing the adverse consequences of a rebellious spirit in the field of nuclear physics under the Soviet regime. Heeding his advice, I made a pivotal decision and shifted my focus to philosophy and theology.

In April 1989, an unexpected opportunity arose when my philosophy professor asked if I would be willing to accompany his grandsons to Vienna while his daughter completed her master's degree. This proposition marked a significant turning point in my life. At nearly 24 years old, I embarked on my first journey beyond the borders of Poland, boarding a plane for the very first time. As I settled into my seat by the window, I gazed in awe at the majestic clouds, filled with a sense of anticipation and trepidation. Originally planned as a four-month stay, my time in Vienna stretched into a year. During that transformative period, I confronted more than I had ever anticipated: the complexities of my German heritage, the trajectory of my academic career, the presence of my future American husband-to-be, and, most crucially, the quest to discover my authentic self.

Through the intertwined threads of my family's history and personal experiences, I have been shaped and inspired to navigate a path of purpose and meaning. The resilience and wisdom of my grandmother, combined with the guidance of mentors and the encounters with diverse cultures, have propelled me on a lifelong journey of self-discovery and dedication to fostering a more compassionate and interconnected world.

Upon my return to Poland in the spring of 1990, I was greeted by a nation that had shed the shackles of Soviet Russia. Warsaw pulsated with a mix of chaos and jubilation. The transformative experience in Vienna had left an indelible mark on my soul, propelling me to immerse myself in the study of German and Linguistics at Warsaw University. As I neared the completion of my studies, an extraordinary opportunity presented itself: to be part of an academic team tasked with establishing Foreign Language Colleges in Poland. Without hesitation, I embraced this venture. However, just as I was reaching new heights in my professional life, my personal world was shattered, sending ripples of upheaval through my existence.

In the summer of 1997, I embarked on a journey to Brown University as a visiting scholar. The United States, a melting pot of immigrants, offered a fertile ground for observation and study. Originally intended as a one-year stay, fate had a different plan in store for me. Today, I find myself in my 26th year in this remarkable country. Although I bid farewell to academia, my thirst for knowledge and growth remains unquenchable. A decade ago, alongside a dear friend, I ventured into a new realm by opening a board game cafe called Cogitania (www.cogitania.com). This unique space serves as a sanctuary for young minds, fostering critical thinking, analytical skills, and a passion for discovery. Through the application of Visual Thinking Strategies (VTS), I engage my students in captivating subjects ranging from science to history. By closely observing and delving into visual evidence and experiments, they learn to perceive, ponder, and explore the depths of knowledge.

My journey, intertwined with the tapestry of diverse experiences, has unfolded in unexpected ways. Each chapter has shaped me, challenged me, and propelled me forward on a path of lifelong learning and a deep-rooted commitment to empower young minds. As I reflect upon my past and embrace the present, I remain steadfast in my dedication to fostering intellectual curiosity, critical thinking, and the joy of discovery.

As I write these words on February 25th, 2023, the echoes of Russia's devastating attack in 2014 reverberate through my consciousness. Until this day last year, the war seemed distant, a tragedy happening in a land far from my own. Yet, on February 24th, 2022, I was struck with a visceral blow, a piercing pain that cut through me, as Putin, the orchestrator of past evils, sought to dismantle a self-determined Ukraine. In an instant, my personal search for identity and purpose collided with the grim reality of the unfolding crisis. A full-scale war had ignited, and I knew that it had become my war as well. Memories of my grandparents' suffering and the tragic fate of my father's family in Katyń and Siberia surged to the forefront of my thoughts.

Without hesitation, I reached out to two journalist friends in Warsaw, desperate to grasp the truth of what was transpiring in my homeland. In a whirlwind of phone calls, I sought information from a historian and guide living near the border, her firsthand accounts painting a vivid picture of chaos, shock, and the indomitable spirit of my fellow countrymen standing in solidarity with our Ukrainian neighbors. Scenes of terror and horror mingled with tears of joy as Ukrainians were embraced, nourished, and transported to cities, towns, and villages across Poland.

As I grappled with the intensity of the moment, torn between my physical presence in Boston and the overwhelming urge to be on the front lines, I sought guidance from a friend in Warsaw. He advised me to stay, to rally support from afar, to be an ambassador for Ukraine until the time came when those on the ground would need relief. It was a wise counsel, though painfully difficult to accept.

In the wake of this decision, I poured my energy into sharing firsthand accounts with family, friends, and neighbors, bridging the distance with stories from the Polish ground. However, as fervent as my belief in the cause was, I couldn't ignore the fact that human lives are sustained not only by basic necessities but also by dreams and hopes. Thus, I embarked on a mission to assist individual Ukrainians, offering support and solace in whatever way I could.

The path ahead is fraught with uncertainty, but my commitment remains resolute. As I navigate this complex landscape, my purpose crystallizes— to amplify voices, to advocate for justice, and to kindle the flickering flames of hope amidst the darkest of times. The story of my dedication to Ukrainians fighting Russian aggression is an ongoing saga, intricately woven with the threads of my personal history and an unyielding belief in a better future.