OUT OF EDEN WALK

On one hand, a HomeStory is the personal reflection of an individual, sometimes an almost intimate thought. But on the other hand, when the feeling is shared with others, it can bring a real connection between people because home is so important to us all, a commonality in a world of differences that too often divide us.

We’ve seen that phenomenon occur repeatedly when our students contribute to the OOEW HomeStories map. When they share their stories about home, they usually don’t write about their physical dwelling. Rather they talk about a favorite park, a comfortable desk, a cozy restaurant, a place shared with a loved one, sometimes even a state of mind.

The other kids can relate, and understanding blossoms. We’ve seen it happen a lot in our classrooms, and it never gets old.

But recently we saw something different, when the scourge of a bloody war entered into a series of HomeStories. That’s what happened when young people in Chicago and Dublin shared stories with teenagers in Lubny, Ukraine.

We didn’t know how the raw experience of living in wartime would affect young people’s ideas of home. We didn’t realize such a severe threat would stir a deep appreciation of their homeland’s natural beauty and rich tradition. We couldn’t predict that students in all three countries would be moved to laughter and tears by sharing their stories. And who would have thought that the American and Ukraine classes would treat each other to a full-throated exchange of song on a video call?

One of the Ukrainians who moved us all was Olha, a young woman whom the war displaced from Lubny to Poland. Or as she introduced herself in her HomeStory, “I am a person who lives in this mad world.”

She went on to tell us, “Speaking about the meaning of home I can only say that apart from bring happiness, this place provides peace and warmth for you. Personally, I love silence and quietness, so my home is the place where I can rest from the routine, where my heart and soul relax.

“Moreover, the idea of home is really precious. If you are devoted to the place you belong to, you will be nervous about the future of your home. You will try to do everything to save it! My home is Ukraine!”

Heartfelt words from a young patriot. Here’s how we came to meet her and her classmates.

We’re both educators in the Chicago area. Tracy is an instructional coach and curriculum coordinator at London Middle School, in suburban Wheeling, and the HomeStories project manager. Anne-Michele is a teacher at Whitney M. Young Magnet High School, which draws students from throughout the city of Chicago, and a HomeStories story gatherer.

We also both foster international connections in education through programs like those sponsored by National Geographic and of course by Paul Salopek’s Out of Eden Walk. Paul helps the many diverse people he meets on his epic walk around the world tell stories of their lives and lands. That inspired the creation of HomeStories.

Anne-Michele used her connections last spring to begin an exchange of HomeStories among her class in Chicago, Aileen O’Toole’s class in Dublin, and Yulia Nikul’s class in Lubny. The students shared stories and follow-up dialogues. They often smiled and laughed in the process, and occasionally frowned and cried, but they always gathered new insights into each other’s lives and cultures.

Events increasingly intruded on our three-month engagement with the Lubny students. As our classes started talking, Russia began to marshal its forces along the Ukrainian border. Then the Russians invaded, and war in all its ugliness spilled out.

Lubny is perilously located between the Ukrainian capital of Kiev, which absorbed some of the war’s first blows, and the eastern territories that Russian forces turned to more recently. Some of our new friends in the Lubny classroom were evacuated from the country because of the danger, their families often painfully divided. Because institutions like schools in Ukraine have been struck by bombs and missiles, we are not naming their school.

Still, through it all, we kept in touch. Finally, we planned to get together live and face-to-face in a live Google Meet on May 23. All the students were excited about the prospect—it would be the first live meeting between the Chicago and Lubny classes and the first time the Ukrainians would be in their school building since the war started.

The meeting was scheduled to begin at 8 a.m. Chicago time, 4 p.m. in Ukraine, but just minutes before then, air raid sirens blared in Lubny, warning of incoming missiles. Yulia sent us a WhatsApp message to say they were all headed for a shelter to wait out the attack. In Chicago, we waited it out too, unable to help and worried sick about our new friends.

Almost an hour later, Yulia messaged that everything was clear, they were headed back to their classroom, and they still wanted to meet with us.

The next 40-ish minutes were beautiful. From 5,000 miles apart, students took turns exchanging their Home Stories. Some were heartbreaking, some were comforting, all were inspirational illustrations of resiliency.

The Chicagoans talked about finding green spaces in an urban setting, their beautiful lakefront, and the mixed blessings of living in a big, raucous and sometimes troubled city. But, of course, the situation in Ukraine was top of mind for all of us.

One story we discussed came from Liera, a 14-year-old Ukrainian now living in Israel, who felt at home along an embankment she photographed on the Red Sea. “For me this place has become important,” she wrote. “I come there several times a week. Every time I am there, I feel calm and light. All thoughts disappear and I just feel this quiet, fresh sea air.

“My father is now thousands of kilometers away from me. I miss him very much so the sea saves me. In the evenings, it is very atmospheric, popular music is playing and the lights are turned on. You can also go for a snack and spend time with family. In this way, I feel joy and peace.”

“I really love your picture; it looks so calming there,” Nylah wrote back from Chicago. “I also hope you are able to see your father again in the near future, and I will pray for his safety.”

“We are thinking of you all in Ukraine,” wrote Aileen in Dublin. “We have a few (Ukrainian) students that joined our school in Ireland in recent weeks. We hope this awful war ends soon.”

Yulia, the English teacher in Lubny, joined in, writing about her city’s thousand-year history and her homeland’s beautiful seas and mountains. “My home is Ukraine,” she added. “I am in realizing how much damage and misery it suffered these days. At the same time, I truly believe that we are approaching victory with every single day.”

Anne-Michele wrote back, “I can’t imagine how difficult it must be to deal with so much uncertainty and sadness every day. Your resiliency, strength, ability to focus on the positive are beyond inspiring. Україна в моєму серціБережіть себе! (Ukraine is in my heart. Take care.)”

We wrapped up the video conference in hearty song. Yulia played the guitar, and we all sang “Добрий ранок, Україно (Good Morning Ukraine)” to each other, loudly and deeply felt. Translated into English, the song concludes:

Good morning, Ukraine!
You’re everything to me in my life.
Wake up, Ukraine!
It’s time to get up, it’s time to find!

Well, in that magical exchange of song and HomeStories, we certainly got up and we found each other.

We’re happy to say that CNBC ran a video report of our exchange of song on “The News with Shepard Smith.”

The experience deepened our new international friendships. We have since thought of our Irish and Ukrainian counterparts often. Our students are all more empathetic and globally minded now.

It’s a big world, with so many people we’ve never met and perhaps little understand. But it’s amazing what can happen when we take the time and effort to just share a bit with one another, perhaps with a HomeStory.

Bill Parker, a former associate managing editor at the Chicago Tribune, contributed to this article.