Ірина Клеванова Iryna Klevanova

You know, everything was so easy for us. We didn't bother ourselves with any issues of ethnicity, there were no arguments about “which language are you speaking”. I have friends with whom we used to run through the streets, hang out in the yard, and speak Ukrainian, Polish, and Russian. It was the same in those pioneer camps. You know, I even found a photo of myself when I was about four or five years old in kindergarten, wearing a Ukrainian costume. So, even then it was not being eradicated in this way, you know, completely, to the extent [that it would be forbidden] on holidays or something... No. It existed. So, my mother intentionally made me this wreath, an embroidered shirt, and everything. I brought it with me — I have photos of it. I also showed it to my child... I love this photo very much, it's just... and my child [looks] so... beautiful, and I remember how I had a task — it were the May holidays — to dress my child in Ukrainian clothes, right? I was looking for it. Wherever I could — among my friends, among all those... I found it. It wasn't just any detail that I found, but a full-fledged Ukrainian costume. I was so exalted about it, I really... And I never had any such questions. This university, the Institute of Trade and Economics, right? It was a cooperation institution, a Central Union [of Consumer Cooperation] institution. Students studied there from all over the Soviet Union — from Belarus, from Tajikistan, from Russia... No, probably not from Russia, probably not. From Ukraine, from all over. Then there were foreign students: Poland, Vietnam, Bulgarians, Germans. They were among my friends. Yes, the language of instruction at the institute was Russian. We wrote all our papers in Russian. But those students who had come to study there, of course, spoke more than just Russian. And that's how we became friends. I still have Liubka, my very dear friend. She lives in Lutsk, and we converse with her in Ukrainian. There were times [when we spoke] both in Russian and Ukrainian, but when the war started, I said, "That's it." As for Russian, maybe I'll read something, maybe... uh, some kind of advertisement. But I don't [read] fiction [in Russian], on principle. We cleaned out our entire library, gave away all the books [in Russian] that we could, and I don't even want to keep them. I'm not going to speak Russian! At all. People approach me on the street, asking me for directions, or to explain something, and [they do it] in Russian. I understand that maybe a person needs someone to speak to them in Russian. No, I won't, you know. I gave myself this kind of resolution, I said, "That's it, for me it's..." It's like I cut it off. I severed it. I can't put up with [people] being killed and exterminated. Everything changed in a moment. I will never be able to forgive this. And the least I can do for myself, for my country, is to be Ukrainian, to speak Ukrainian. To feel everything that is happening now in the country. To sympathize. I volunteer as much as I can, you understand. I can't donate much, but when my pension comes, I always [do it].

As for any such traditions at home, like celebrating Easter or blessing Easter cake, God forbid. When I was working at the ORS (the department of working supply, a trade organization at the railroad)... And there was such a need for me to substitute for our Komsomol leader, what was her name, God, Nadia, I recall, the secretary of the Komsomol organization of the ORS, and I was sort of her deputy. Because she went to Chornobyl, when Chornobyl exploded, and she was one of the first to go there, as they say. And I was... It so happened that on Easter we went to bless Easter cake. And then they were catching people — Komsomol members, young people, were standing there specifically to catch people, recording their names. And [then there was] the meeting: “You have to go to the Komsomol district committee,” I was told, “and you have to hold a meeting and deal with those people." I never held any meetings, nothing. God, for me it was a total... I came to that district committee as if it were some kind of organization, where I expected to be tortured or something. I was so afraid, it was so unpleasant. Yeah. So, this meeting. I remember saying that, so and so, such and such people were recorded, and we have a decision. Everyone is sitting in silence. What decision? What? Who? Who is proposing this? Someone raised their hand, [suggesting] a reprimand or something. And I had an order from the Komsomol of the district committee that they should almost be expelled from the ranks. And I can't understand it: what for, why should a person be expelled for simply going to church? Because at one time we were just interested, we went to churches, I remember going to a Polish church.

You know, before, when I was young, when I was a youth, I didn't care who I was. I knew that I spoke Russian, and that was it. I didn't think there were any questions. It didn't even matter. And now it is very important to me — identity, as you say, yes. And I believe that I have many roots, different ones, because I probably have something Asian in me, and I think I still have something Jewish in me. And Ukrainian is one hundred percent, because it comes from different sides, from my mother's side and from my father's side. I feel completely at home now because I speak Ukrainian, because I support everyone, because I care about everything that concerns Ukraine, you know. I feel this very strongly now. I am completely interested in the kitchen. I've reviewed my clothes, my wardrobe. I only read books that... I started studying Ukrainian history — I'm very interested in those times, starting with the Tale of Igor's Campaign, where it's like this against all the princes and so on and so forth... I actually consider myself a Ukrainian. And I'm proud of it, I'm proud. This is how I perceive myself.

As a student, while on vacation, I was offered to take our children to a Polish sort of summer camp. And the Poles came to us as part of an exchange. And so we went. We lived in Bieszczady, in the mountains, we even looked through the photos, and it was very pleasant for me to remember it. They are called the Harcerzy, those Poles, children, this organization of theirs. They lived in tents near the hotel that was there. Our children lived in the hotel proper, and those Poles set up their own camp next to the hotel and lived in those tents. And we did some joint activities with them, a lot of interesting things, and they took us on excursions, and I visited Auschwitz at that time, and it was very impressive... And there was one woman in our group among our camp counselors, leaders, who was a little older. I was there, and there was another student, and this one was like a group leader. And there was this scene. So we're sitting in the lobby of that hotel, [it's our] free time, and she makes all the children sing the anthem... I was a student then, so I was still studying, [it was in] [19]79, [19]78 when I [went on that trip]... the anthem of the Soviet Union. To learn the anthem. And I told her. And all the Poles were walking around looking at us like we were crazy. I said, "Do you realize that we are creating a bad situation here, and the children are already tired, they have been singing, learning it for an hour. Why are we sitting here and stressing the Poles? What's the point? We can go out into the woods, we can sing it on the lawn there, if you want to.” So she snitched [on me] here to Lviv, and when we arrived, it got distorted so badly that I was such an anti-Soviet person, and my father was officially reprimanded, somewhere in the party offices, about what his daughter was doing. I remember he gave me such a shake, like, what was going on? And I said, feigning ignorance, I said, “Dad, I'm okay, but I can't accept this as normal, it's idiotic!” Why sit there and yell and sing? This is mockery. They even made fun of the anthem, because [they were] children, they weren't... This kind of moments.