Family\'s Emigration From the Ukraine

¶ … family's emigration from the Ukraine following the breakup of the Soviet Union is examined. In doing so, the positive and negative features of my life before and after the emigration will be reviewed and a determination made as to what the long lasting results will be.

Walking through the broad confines of the JFK airport in New York City on my arrival in the United States was a wonderful, exciting experience but one that was equally filled with fear and concern. Waiting in line with my parents and older sister, I was looking forward to starting my new life but already missed my classmates from my school back in Kiev. I had enjoyed my life Kiev but knew that my father and mother were anxious to leave the uncertainty that was taking place in our old country. The Soviet Union was breaking apart and the country that my parents had grown up in no longer existed. My father decided that instead of staying and waiting to see what was to happen he would take his chances in a new country. Several of our neighbors had left Kiev for the United States shortly before my father and mother decided to come here. They liked it and so my parents thought, "Why not?"

Having been raised in a strong Russian Orthodox family leaving my grandparents behind in Kiev was not easy. Grandparents, especially grandmothers, occupy a special place in the Russian family, and leaving them was particularly difficult. Looking into my grandparents' eyes as we boarded the train in Kiev was the saddest day of my life. Knowing that I may never see either of them again was painful. I will never forget the looks on their faces as we pulled away. I had always been close to them and had wished that they would come along but knew that this was not possible. My mother's parents were active in political affairs in the former Soviet government and were determined to remain behind and help the new Ukrainian government get established. They were both highly educated economists whose services would be needed by a government that was new and attempting to instill confidence in the eyes of the public. The breakup of the Soviet Union came with many uncertainties and the state of the economy was one of the biggest of the uncertainties. Similarly, my father's parents were also actively employed but, unlike my mother's parents, neither of them was in particularly good health. My grandmother, Tina, was a pharmacist but was only able to work part-time at the time that we left Kiev due to heart problems that left her too weak to work more than a few hours a week. My grandfather, Gregory, who was a Kiev police officer, still worked full-time but was getting ready to retire. The uncertainties caused by the governmental breakup in Moscow, however, made his ability to retire questionable because no one really knew what the status of the government pensions might be (Radio Free Europe, 2011). Everyone was hopeful that matters would work out once the dust settled but no one was certain what might happen. In any event, everyone knew that grandparents would never leave the land that they had always lived and now that the Ukraine was again separated from Russia my grandparents were eager to help build the new nation.

My entire family had grown up under Communism and it had not always been easy. As I indicated earlier, my family is deeply religious and our customs are deeply entrenched in the Russian Orthodox religion. My grandparents and parents were never permitted to openly practice their religion during the rule of the Communists (Bourdeaux, 2006). For my father's parents this was not a major problem. They were both active members of the Communist party and, as such, they had abandoned most of the practices and traditions of the Church but for my mother's parents it had been very difficult (Papkova, 2011). Grandma Anna, my babushka, and Grandpa Vladimir had both been born after the Revolution but their parents had fostered the traditions and beliefs of the Church in both of them and they were joyous over the fact that once the Communists left office they were permitted to openly practice their religion (Gaskova, 2004).

Standing in the long line at JFK waiting to pass through customs gave me plenty of time to think about what I had left and to speculate as to what lay ahead. Neither of my parents were particularly well educated and, although my father had a job waiting for him working for a Russian businessman, we were all prepared for the reality that I our lives would be changing remarkably as I looked around me in line I could tell from the looks on the faces of others like ourselves who were entering America for the first time that they were all feeling a combination of fear, excitement, anxiety and hope.

The breakup of the Soviet Union had fueled a mass emigration from Russia and former Russian satellite nations (Hardwick, 1993). For nearly fifty years the opportunity to leave such areas had been non-existent and now as many as possible were taking advantage of the situation. My parents were like many of their generation who were willing to leave what they had always known for an opportunity to experience life in America.

The first few days after we arrived in America were the most difficult (Hoffman, 2006). I was only nine years old and spoke virtually no English. The family that sponsored our arrival could not have been nicer and they provided for most of our physical needs but there was little for me and my sister to do. There was little that we understood so watching television or listening to the radio was a waste of time. We had brought several books with us from the Ukraine but after we finished those we were at a loss. During this time we did manage to grow much closer. My sister, Anna, and I are 5 1/2 years apart in age so she has always looked upon me as somewhat of a bother but, like me, she was initially bored as well and all we really had was each other. Years later I would realize that those few days were particularly special because of how it forced us to grow closer.

In Kiev, our family consisted not only of my mother and father and my grandparents, it also consisted of my aunts, uncles, cousins, and godparents, etc. We were always getting together for holidays, birthdays, and anniversaries (Advameg, Inc., 2011). Hardly a day would go by when I did not see one or more of my relatives. This all changed when we arrived in America. Now we had no one. For me, a nine-year-old little girl, it was devastating. I had gone from living in close proximity to my entire family to feeling virtually all alone. I was quite sad.

Within a few days my mother walked me to my new school. My parents had discussed the possibility of my attending a small school operated by the local Russian Orthodox School where I would be surrounded by other boys and girls what has emigrated from Russia but they decided that I should experience living in America as completely as possible. When I walked into that classroom I wanted to crawl into a box. I felt like every eye was fixed on me and I knew that I was going to be facing days of not being able to understand anyone or anything. As I stood there my anxiety was extremely uncomfortable but to my surprise and, everlasting gratitude, it also began my adventure toward becoming a true American (Mahovskaya, 2010). My teacher and classmates embraced me from the beginning and within a few short days I began learning English and feeling a part of the social structure of the school. In many ways, my immigrations status made me a celebrity and my strong Russian accent was the source of much amusement for my classmates.

Today, those early days are just a memory. I have lived in America for almost thirty years and think very seldom of my old days in Kiev. I still miss my grandparents, two of whom died just a few years after we arrived in America, and I am proud of my Ukrainian heritage but I consider myself an American.

For me and my family the transition from being Ukrainian immigrants to full-fledged Americans was a short one (Magocsi, 2011). Both of my parents were eager to leave the perplexing political situation in Kiev and the uncertain economic future. Neither my mother nor my father were particularly political and had not incorporated the Communist philosophies into their thinking. In the case of my mother this was surprising in that both of her parents were heavily involved in party politics and strong adherents of the Communist economic theory. My mother, however, had rebelled against much of what my grandparents stood for and when she met my mother she adopted the strong Russian Orthodox beliefs and traditions that his family had followed for generations. The fact that my father's family had managed to hold onto their traditions for so long despite pressures from everywhere to abandon them is a testament to the resolve of my father's family (Magun, 2010).

It did not take long for my family to become a pizza, hot dog, and hamburger style Americans but one of the things that my friends found so interesting about my family were the Ukrainian traditions that we continued to honor and observe. My parents were in their 40s when we emigrated so they were well indoctrinated into the Ukrainian diet and social mores and, despite their willingness to adapt to the American life-style, inside their own home they continued to live in much the same way that they also had. Fresh breads of all varieties were a constant staple in our home. Several blocks from our home was a little bakery that specialized in Eastern Europe breads and my mother, who by this time had begun working out of the home and did not have time to make her own breads, was one the bakery's best customers. Other than breads, our diet consisted of potato dishes in all forms and some sort of soup at every dinner (Dabars, 2002). My friends always considered this odd but, for me, it was all I ever knew.

We ate very little beef in our home. When we first came to America I remember thinking how odd that there were hamburgers on the menu of nearly every restaurant. In the Ukraine this would be unheard of as pork and pork products such as sausage and ham were the primary meat product. As we became more Americanized, my sister and I would go with our friends to McDonald's or Burger King but inside our home pork remained the dominant meat product.

Without a doubt our family's participation in the Russian Orthodox provided a stabilizing influence and reinforced our ties to our home in the Ukraine. Our small Church in America could have been easily placed on a street in downtown Kiev (ROCIA, 2005). It looked nearly identical to the one where we worshiped in Kiev and except for the fact that the priest performed the liturgy in English there was no noticeable difference. I could easily imagine myself back in Kiev when I entered our Russian Orthodox Church here in America. For us, in keeping the tradition of our religion, Easter was the big holiday. When we first arrived in America we were surprised to what a big deal Americans made out of Christmas. We celebrated Christmas in the Ukraine but for us Easter was the big celebration not Christmas.

Although my family managed to maintain most of their traditions relative to religion, holidays, and diet we failed to continue the use of either our native Ukrainian language or our Russian. When we first arrived in America we used both languages extensively in the home and when we were together as a family outside the house but over time this practice began to decline. My sister and I were the first to begin using English inside our house. Once we began to establish friendships and our friends would visit our home it was inconvenient for us to switch between the languages. In fact, in some ways, it was embarrassing for me when my parents would continue to speak to me in the presence of my friends in either Russian or Ukrainian. By the time I reached high school English was spoken nearly 24/7 in our home but both of my parents retained little pet phrases and nicknames in Russian and Ukrainian that they would use when the time was appropriate and they wanted to make a point. Surprisingly, I have not lost the ability to talk to my two surviving grandparents in Russian and do so exclusively whenever I have the opportunity to talk with them.

It has been interesting growing up in America as immigrants from a nation that many Americans grew up despising. When my family came to America the Soviet Union had only recently broken up and most of my friends and acquaintances looked upon me initially as some form of refugee (Bates, 2004). They would ask me questions about how bad things were in Kiev before we "escaped?" Or they would ask me how horrible was my life in Kiev? At first, being only 9, I was not sure how to respond. I had no recollection that we escaped in any way and I never view my life in Kiev as being anything other than wonderful. To this day, I have nothing but pleasant memories of my life there. As I became more Americanized and matured individually, however, I began to understand the nature of the questions. I began to understand the difference in political and economic theory between America and the Soviet Union and, in the process, recognize that my friends were simply asking questions based on what they had been told to believe about the conditions in than existing Soviet Union. From my perspective, however, the questions were inappropriate and did not represent my reality. My family did not escape from anything. There was nothing from which to escape. My family never felt threatened in anyway while we lived in Kiev. We came to America to pursue better opportunities because of the political and economic upheaval taking place in Kiev at the time. In the years that I have lived in America there have been a number of similar times here. What I remember of my time in Kiev was all good and I prefer to hold on to those memories that way.

The fact that my extended family remained in Kiev has always bothered me. I miss the special times with my grandparents, cousins, and my aunts and uncles. I have remained in contact with most of them through regular mail and the introduction of the internet and email has made this process much easier. They have seemingly all adjusted to the new situation in the Ukraine and their lives do not appear to be much different than my own. They worry about paying their bills like I do, raising their children, and how the weather will affect their weekend plans. None of them is particularly interested in political affairs and the topic is rarely, if ever, discussed. I often think that I could return there without ever feeling that I had left.