Feminists of Kyiv

United in Courage: Sonic

United in Courage is a series of interviews conducted primarily in April 2023 by the Feminists of Kyiv team, featuring members of feminist and LGBTQ+ communities currently serving in the Armed Forces of Ukraine. 

We invited the participants of the series to tell us about their lives before the full-scale russian invasion and what motivated them to join the army. We also discussed the different experiences and challenges they face in the Armed Forces, as well as the sources of support that sustain their resilience in the ongoing war.

We hope that this series of interviews will mark the beginning of an anthology in which Feminists of Kyiv media will amplify the voices of women and queer people who are defending Ukraine. You can support us in this effort.

Editor and translator: Bozhena Makovska
Visual artist: 
Michael Tulsky

My call sign is Sonic. I am a 22 years old cis heterosexual woman and intersectional feminist. Before the full-scale invasion, I was involved in feminist and vegan activism. I conducted lectures in schools for girls on topics such as personal boundaries, security, and feminism. Additionally, I organised feminist film screenings and participated in protests. I also contributed to cooking vegan meals for those in need and initiated food distributions in my hometown in the East of Ukraine.

I wouldn’t say that these were big and impressive projects, although I wanted to develop in this direction. I was considering working in public service, contributing to the creation of shelters in Ukraine, or potentially becoming a local council member. I used to hitchhike a lot. I visited youth centres and discussed their approaches of combating gender-based violence and providing assistance to vulnerable groups, including homeless people. I dreamed of gaining as much expertise as possible and implementing it all at the local level, because for me, the development of the East and South is an idée fixe. I was also planning to join the army anyway.

In 2020, I enrolled in the military training department in Rivne, studying to become a mechanised platoon commander. I had thought that if I graduated from the military faculty and obtained an officer’s rank, I would go to the Joint Forces Operation, where I would be fighting in Donbas and reclaiming my home.

In 2021, I already attempted to join the army. I went to the military recruitment office and said that I couldn’t live like this anymore while someone else was fighting for our independence. This realisation had been growing within me since 2014; it seemed pointless to study while the country was at war. However, at that time, I was advised to wait, complete my military education, and make it easier for me, as a woman, to be truly involved in the war. I agreed, but with the beginning of the full-scale war, waiting became unbearable.

I joined the ranks of the Armed Forces of Ukraine in March 2022, almost a month after the start of the large-scale russian offensive, because no one wanted to take me anywhere. At that time, I was a final-year cadet at the military department and a student at Ostroh Academy, majoring in political science. I was able to complete both my studies remotely, thanks to a secondment from my military unit.

Since I was mobilised on the 23rd of March and graduated in July, I now have only a certificate of completion of the military faculty, but no rank. If I had been mobilised in the autumn, I would be a junior lieutenant now. However, at the time of mobilisation, I did not think about whether I would complete my education. It was important for me to stand up for the defence of my country.

People who studied at the military department are commonly called ‘blazers’ in the army. The majority of them lack battle experience and cannot always be effective combat commanders. Possessing an officer’s ID card wouldn’t have saved me from discrimination. Female officers are typically not appointed to roles directly involved in combat operations. Usually, they work in headquarters, in positions demanding minimal responsibility and logic, and even at the company level, they handle document-related tasks.

Any position in the Ukrainian army is inherently difficult. The crucial factor is that a person has the necessary competencies and the willingness to work in such conditions. When a battalion advances to the front, the headquarters is situated a certain number of kilometres away from the actual contact line. I am currently in the Bakhmut area. We have 18 women snipers in our battalion, and they are all on duty at the headquarters or in the permanent deployment point — because that’s what the order is. However, they are still exposed to danger. Sometimes, you may find yourself sitting in a basement when an S-300 flies in. The frontline is still the frontline, so claiming that commanders aim to protect someone is hypocritical.

This is hypocritical for several reasons. For example, I am often told that I am too young. At the same time, guys aged 18-19 are being killed. We have a woman, an experienced cartographer, but she holds a soldier’s rank. At the headquarters, instead of doing her job, she deals with paperwork and makes coffee for the commanders. It literally works like in the dumbest stereotype. Situations like this occur daily, and the struggle against such individuals persists every day. It’s important to understand that there are a lot of men working in the headquarters. They genuinely want to serve there — it’s true. All women serve voluntarily, and they are not here for what the army of the current model offers them.

The majority of the Armed Forces consist of infantry units, and my unit is also infantry. When we’re not on the frontline, we call it ‘drying off’, which allows time for both rest and self-education. People engage in training, participate in patrols and combat missions, and then take a break. The headquarters, on the other hand, operates continuously, especially now, when there are a lot of losses and a huge amount of lost property. People work without days off. Therefore, appointing women to headquarters positions is not about caring; rather, it is about distrust and the reluctance of male commanders to accept that women are fully capable of performing the same tasks as they do.

When it comes to the path of women in the military, there are very different stories. It’s not that there are no women on the front lines; they are present. However, to secure a combat position and eventually make it to the front, you need to show the highest performance in training, to impress everyone with your skills. Only then will trust be placed in you.

I had to lie when I was mobilised. When I signed up for the Territorial Defence, it was just a list of volunteers. Initially, I wrote that I was a cadet of the military department. But when I got the call and came to the formation, everything was very chaotic. No one checked anything — neither documents nor phones. They began to give us positions, for example: ‘You are a clerk’. I realised I needed to play the deception card and claim to be an officer. I understood that if I told the truth, I would be like all the other girls without military education: either a clerk, a cook, or a nurse. I was assigned to the position of a rifleman.

It was a Kyiv-based territorial defence, and when the order came that the TDF was now operating nationwide, our unit was relocated from Kyiv to another location. There we were divided again. I recall a certain major reading out surnames, and, for some reason, all the women ended up in positions at the medical unit and field kitchens. I interrupted him and said: ‘On what basis do you have no women in combat positions?’ He replied in a rude manner that he was just reading out the list and didn’t know who was a man and who was a woman. I was not on the list at all. In such a scenario, you either have to remind yourself or go back to where you came from. I chose the second option. I got into the car returning to the deployment point in Kyiv, and we drove away. I probably could have just gone home, but I didn’t want to.

I enlisted in the military unit as an officer, but informed the commander that I was still in the midst of my studies. I took a secondment to my military department, returned, and that was the end of it. I retained my position as a rifleman, which I got by deception.

Only volunteers fought in the spring and summer. During company briefings, we were asked who was willing to go to the front line, and I, along with a few others, raised our hands. But they laughed at me. Later on, I raised my hand on several occasions. I was then dispatched to a battalion situated in the village of Berestove, above Soledar. I spoke to the commander and said that I did not want to sit in the headquarters, and I needed guarantees that I would take part in combat operations. He asked in great detail about my knowledge, skills, and competences. It all sounded like it was some elite unit, and we’ll see if there’s a place for me there. But what happened was that we spent a long time in the rear. Yes, we patrolled, we worked as air defence groups. But I didn’t gain any combat experience.

Everything changed when I managed to transfer to another territorial defence battalion. We found common ground with the company commander, and as a result, he appointed me to the position of squad leader, commander of an infantry fighting vehicle that I studied at the military department. However, when we went to the east, and we are still here, it occurred that the first group left, the second group left, and I remained on patrols under fire, but not in Bakhmut itself. I asked: What’s wrong? And received the answer that the problem was not in me; it just so happened. At the battalion level, the commander asked me who I was and what I was doing here. His first phrase when he saw me was: ‘Who recruited you, fuckheads?’ Further, the chief of staff said that I reminded him of his daughter, who is also about 20 years old, and that I would never go anywhere with this battalion. Now, I am actively seeking another place for a transfer.

My desire to serve in the infantry is driven by the fact that I want to be on the front line. This is what the best of people do; it’s something one cannot help but undertake given the current circumstances. And this is a reality the greater part of society will need to confront. I believe every Ukrainian should undergo such an experience to grasp the context of the future. For instance, the processes of state-building that one can contribute to by working in NGOs, political analytics, civic activism, or journalism; t’s an experience that enables a profound understanding of the majority of people. This is the first reason.

Another reason is that, after our victory, as we join Prides and Feminist marches on March 8th, there will be veterans who will inquire where we were while they were defending our freedom. The thing is, I don’t want my freedom to be achieved at the expense of someone else’s, apart from my own. I also don’t want women in a nation that has endured war to be excluded from public discourse because they were not actively involved. They didn’t participate not because they didn’t want to but because they had no other choice. Because men were the ones who forced them into the headquarters.

Of course, it is possible to benefit the state in other ways. My point is that our predecessors fought for the rights of women to be in the army in the positions that are now available to us, for example, combat medics. Similarly, my mission may be to pave the way for women who will join the Armed Forces after me.

After more than a year of service, I realised that this fight is very important. However, the saddest thing is that with such a mission, it is not enough to be yourself and do a meaningful job. I’m unsure of the origin of this expression, but it is 100% true: a man in the army is considered normal until he proves otherwise, and a woman is considered abnormal until she proves otherwise.

War is the place where you can die or make a significant mistake, not due to incompetence, but merely because luck is not on your side. It’s not an art, a science, or a craft where you can show remarkable results solely through your effort and work. Preparing for the current circumstances, for the horrors that the russians are planning, is impossible. My biggest interest at the moment is to be of service and assistance, not to fight the patriarchy. Which is why I occasionally consider joining the military medical service to be useful where I will not be disturbed. I don’t think I’ve ever felt like this before.

From a legal standpoint, or on paper, women in the army have absolutely the same opportunities to serve as men. Our regulations do not include gender divisions; they treat individuals as combat units. The Ukrainian army is a scaled-down reflection of society because the vast majority are volunteers without prior military experience before the full-scale invasion. Abuse of authority, sexism, and so forth, are not perpetuated solely by those who served in the Soviet army. Instead, these actions are carried out by new officers and soldiers who embrace the system to gain acceptance within it.

I see education as a method of addressing this issue: educating personnel at all levels of the defence sector with a particular emphasis on gender equality. It is also crucial to establish a feedback system, enabling people to report problems like mine. If the command collectively shares these values, advocates for equality, and receives feedback, it will be an effective mechanism for influencing the decisions of individuals.

On the one hand, I don’t want women to go through all that. I wouldn’t wish anyone to experience discrimination or feel unwanted in the army. But I understand that the only way to resist is to become part of the patriarchal structures. The more people with a feminist perspective, women, nonbinary people, those who are discriminated by society, join the army, the quicker and more it will change. This is the only way.

As for creating separate women’s battalions, I think it’s a great idea. Probably, before I joined the Armed Forces, I would have said that it could separate us, create prejudice against women, as if we couldn’t fight alongside men. Now, I would certainly join such a battalion. It would suit me to think about how good I am as a fighter and improve my skills in modern combat systems. Women in the army should focus not on fighting sexism but on fighting the enemy.

Before the full-scale invasion, I often mentioned that you need to be conscious of your privileges. You have to understand that in some societies women don’t have basic rights. However, I’m not a fan of a gradual approach. I believe that any activist agenda should advance in its most contemporary form across all societies. Even in a society where a woman lives dependent on a husband she hasn’t chosen herself.

But now, considering the war, I wish for one thing: for the feminist community, and the world community in general, to comprehend that our struggle is not local. It is not a fight between Ukrainians and some neighbours who look like Ukrainians. No. It is a struggle between freedom and oppression. It is a battle between cannibalistic orders and humanistic values. It is a war waged by a totalitarian society against democracy.

I wouldn’t want people to read this text and think that they should cease supporting us because their donations will go not to me but to some man who said that women have no place at the front. As our victory approaches, so does the freedom of all women. The closer our victory is, the less suffering civilians, especially mothers, will have to endure. The longer this war goes on, the more women who either went to fight, or left Ukraine, or stayed, endangering themselves and their children, will suffer.

This war is a femicide. I want the global community to know that what is happening now concerns all countries, all people. Although, of course, there will never be such a level of perception. Similar to how we were able to not react to conflicts occurring in distant lands in the past. Now, somewhere far away, people are not responding to the ongoing war. But having lived through the experience of war, we develop a stronger sense of solidarity with the victims of conflicts worldwide.

The more people contribute to our victory, send aid, come out to protest, promote the message that Ukraine needs to be supported, Ukraine needs to be armed, Ukraine needs help to defeat russia, in their local communities, at work, in public services, in their home countries, the sooner the suffering of millions of Ukrainian women and girls will end.

Read More

United in Courage: Daria

United in Courage is a series of interviews conducted and translated primarily in April 2023 by the Feminists of Kyiv team, featuring members of feminist and LGBTQ+ communities currently serving in the Armed Forces of Ukraine. 

We invited the participants of the series to tell us about their lives before the full-scale russian invasion and what motivated them to join the army. We also discussed the different experiences and challenges they face in the Armed Forces, as well as the sources of support that sustain their resilience in the ongoing war.

We hope that this series of interviews will mark the beginning of an anthology in which Feminists of Kyiv media will amplify the voices of women and queer people who are defending Ukraine. You can support us in this effort.

Editor and translator: Bozhena Makovska
Visual artist:
Michael Tulsky

My name is Daria, I am 23 years old, I am from Kharkiv and Sievierodonetsk. These cities, both eastern ones, have shaped my identity, and in many ways influenced my decision to go to war. Before the full-scale invasion began, I worked as a journalist and was also involved in activism, particularly LGBTQ+. I used to identify myself as bisexual and gender free. Now I’m more inclined to say that I am a pansexual person. Here, at war, it is difficult to reflect on my gender identity, so now I perceive myself simply as a human being. In general, I don’t want to think about myself in any of these concepts, categories, or labels. I just want to be.

My civic activism started in 2018, a year after I moved to Kharkiv. It was a revelation for me to discover the existence of a community centre for LGBTQ+ people in the city — the Kharkiv Pride Hub, which unfortunately closed its doors. What they were doing for the Kharkiv community was very important to me as a young activist. Then, at the age of 18, I was just discovering the movement for the rights of women and LGBTQ+ people at the level of civic position and self-awareness. I volunteered for the first time at the Women’s Solidarity Weeks, and for the first time I went to the Pride in Kharkiv in 2019.

People often ask me why I joined the Ukrainian Armed Forces, given that war is an aggressive environment. Looking back on my life, I can say that my activism and work as a correspondent hardened me; I was unconsciously preparing for war on various levels.

I grew up and spent a significant part of my life in Sievierodonetsk, Luhansk region. Now the city is under russian occupation for the second time. I didn’t seem to have the option of running away again.

Rereading the diaries I wrote a month before the full-scale invasion, I see that even then I had thoughts about serving in the Armed Forces. The tension felt in society during the escalation was affecting me. I thought that with just a little more time, I would sign the contract, but the decisive trigger was russia’s physical invasion. It was not a difficult decision for me. I understood that the sooner my friends and I go, the sooner it will be over. And if we wait for someone to stop the russians instead of us, we might never see it happen.

On 24 February 2022, I was in an apartment in Kharkiv with a person who did not live in the east and for whom it was the first day of the war. I woke up to a strange knocking and said to her: “Did you hear that knock?” She replied that it was just an old balcony. But it was not a balcony. It was the same balcony I had at home in 2014. I immediately realised what was happening, and for a second, I had a flash of despair. I wanted to sit and cry, but I decided to pull myself together and do something instead. After a couple of days, I got used to this idea, looked for options, and my friend, also a representative of the LGBTQ+ community, and I went to the Kharkiv Defence Headquarters. Later, our paths diverged, but we are both in the ranks of the Armed Forces now.

In the beginning, the Defence Headquarters was the official coordination centre for volunteers. We had weapons, support for volunteers in the form of uniforms and food. Later, the headquarters turned into the Territorial Defence Forces, and then the unit joined the Main Directorate of Intelligence. Now I serve in a different unit, but it so happened that I served in the Territorial Defence Forces, the Armed Forces, and the GUR. The service experience can be very different depending on the unit you will be assigned to. Therefore, I would advise everyone who sees themselves in the Armed Forces and plans to serve, to carefully consider the issue of choosing a unit. It affects everything from material support to mental state.

There is a problem of sexism in the military, it also largely depends on the unit. I don’t want society to put on rose-coloured glasses and assume that women and queer people already feel good in the army.

When I got to the Territorial Defence Forces, they asked me what I wanted to do. I replied that I know a little about unmanned aerial vehicles, I just need some basic practical training; I am engaged in self-education and will learn everything. And the commander said to me: “Why bring a sin on my soul, let’s make you a cook.” I had to fight for self-perception and prove my qualifications.

There are the same inappropriate statements that can be heard from different commanders. For example: “You look a lot like my daughter, so you will not go to the front line. I will do everything to ensure that you never find yourself at 0.” I’ve heard this before, both in my own direction and in the direction of other women. But I’ve never heard anyone say to a man: “Listen, boy, you look like my son, so you’re not going anywhere. You will be a secretary at the headquarters”. It’s an overused phrase, but women in the army really have to give 200% to be perceived as equal to men.

There are also various issues related to everyday life. This is what you need to prepare yourself for. You won’t always have the opportunity to solve some of your problems or simply wash yourself. I generally like to play this “survival” game, and sometimes I get pleasant impressions from it. Although, perhaps, this is a protective function of the psyche — to find something pleasant in attempts to escape an uncomfortable situation.

I am the only person in my unit who is not a cis man. I can’t say that I feel completely comfortable, but I have comrades I can trust. They’ve read my articles, they know that I am a feminist, and they respect that. I consider myself lucky to have adequate people by my side. In my previous unit, there was a situation when I received verbal threats because of my views. It was a personal dislike of me, and fortunately, it did not escalate into bullying.

There are different people in the army and you don’t have to like everyone. The main thing is that it does not turn into conflicts that can cause danger to other people. After all, it is a war and you are accountable for each other. The manner of reacting depends on the specific circumstances of each situation — there is no singular algorithm for action. But I think it is important that a few people close to you know about the conflicts that occur due to hatred or the non-acceptance of views.

I enjoy remembering how, when the invasion started, in my previous unit, a guy came up to me. I didn’t know who he was, but he shook my hand and said: “I’m sorry that we have been messing up your office.” It was related to the attacks on the office of Pride Hub and the people who were in it. I won’t attribute it to any organisation, but it was obviously some kind of right-wing radical movement. He also said, “I see that you are here, next to me, serving in this war. I respect you for that.” I was very pleased to hear this. It gave me hope that we will gradually move away from hostilities in society.

Every month I learn about another friend of mine who comes from the leftist, feminist or LGBTQ+ community and has now joined the Armed Forces. So I think that the representation of people with left-wing views in the Ukrainian army is a matter of time. I understand that this war is going to last for a very long time, and one way or another, it will affect everyone. This worries me because if all my friends go to war, there will be no one to continue our joint projects.

For example, Bilkis: last spring, they moved from Kharkiv to Lviv and were intensively involved in helping women, nonbinary and trans people in need. Now they organise pickets, cultural and educational events. I look at the activism of my friends and I am convinced that I really have something to defend. It is a big motivation to know that they are continuing our great cause.

But the war should be our common issue, not of some group of people or a region. Until we pay enough attention to the war, it will not end. Everyone should actively contribute to the victory. If it is done as part of organised structures, the result will be more noticeable.

Often, I don’t have the opportunity or the energy after a hard day to adequately represent myself on social media as a person with left-wing views or as a member of the LGBTQ+ community fighting for Ukraine. However, representation is very important. It is necessary to move away from the stereotypical notion of a military person as a burly man. Perhaps it used to be that way, but not anymore. Personally, it was crucial for me to find individuals whom I could consider role models. I believe this is what many of those who are hesitant to join the Armed Forces lack. When you see soldiers who look like you, you realise that you can do it too.

People are very tired now, and they can react harshly to things that are new to them. You should always consider this context when you do something. As well as not standing aside, it is important not to do something “about us without us”. For example, I am waiting for someone to raise the topic of channelling donations, because there are urgent needs, such as medicine, vehicles for combat units, night vision devices, and other consumables. I don’t want to count someone’s money, but it makes me cringe when I see people splurging and buying expensive branded boots for the military. It is important to talk about the expediency of using funds, and I think we should be ready for this conversation.

I often see in the media that the international community considers the war in Ukraine to be some kind of “quarrel between two fraternal nations”. This opinion is completely out of the context of the history of our centuries-long oppression by russia, the soviet union and the russian empire. This war has been going on not for a year, not for 9 years, but for much longer. And this is a very clear situation, so if you look at the history, there will be no desire to “reconcile” us. There have already been enough cases of violation of all agreements by the russian federation to understand that such methods do not work, and that such a conditional “peace” will only satisfy the interests of the aggressor.

The russians are taking all Ukrainian books out of the occupied territories and bringing in books in russian instead. This is also happening in my hometown. This leads us to the question of whether the issue is really about the territories, or whether it is about the identity of Ukrainians and russia’s attempts to erase this identity. Ukraine, and Sievierodonetsk in particular, is my home. I grew up here, I became myself here, and I will defend it.

Read More

Brie (FemSolution)

3 December 2023
Editor: Bozhena Makovska
Translators: Bozhena Makovska, Maryna Isaieva

Photographer: Michael Tulsky

FemSolution is a horizontal, intersectional feminist initiative that is currently engaged in helping IDP women, assisting victims of russian aggression from the de-occupied territories, and implementing educational projects. You can support them using these requisites.

My activism began with the trade union. While still at school, I started to identify as an anarchist. I kept up with various left-wing initiatives in Ukraine and beyond. At the age of 15, I attended a meeting of Direct Action, an organisation that originated in Ukraine in the 90s. Direct Action protects students’ rights, supports youth initiatives, and serves as a platform for them. We had weekly lectures, including ones on queer theory and feminism, and it was there that I gained most of the knowledge that I possess today. I remained actively involved in the organisation’s activities until 2019. We worked on educational projects and organised several festivals, and it was great fun. However, given that our work primarily focused on students, I lacked feminist activism.

In 2016, after the March 8th rally, I joined the newly created organisation FemSolution at the Kyiv-Mohyla Academy.

FemSolution mostly held lectures, discussions, and readings. We had a space where we also held meetings for activists and people who were sympathetic to us. Now I understand that this was our practice of self-care and it was very supportive for activists. We were just starting to explore feminism, and many of our colleagues were studying at the sociology faculty, so they could “bring” something from there and tell us about it. Learning about how this world is structured was very informative, but at the same time painful.

We always liked the idea of creating zines, and we attended various workshops on the topic. Eventually, we decided to print our zine. We called it “La Merde” because we left stacks of them on the windowsill in the toilet to attract as many students as possible.

Inside, there was both poetry and art; we accepted any works that the authors considered feminist. During the pandemic, we also made a zine and paid the authors, but it was never released. The pandemic was a difficult time for our initiative, we hardly saw each other. I didn’t leave my house for almost three months because my mother had cancer. Now, we still want to publish that zine online.

In parallel, we are preparing two new zines. They will be thematic, it’s a new concept for us. The first zine — blackout — will contain reflections of people on their lives during power outages in the city. The second zine — the wartime zine — will be a space for different experiences of living through war. We hope that this (shared) experience will help us attract more people to the feminist community. I also see this as an opportunity to reflect reality: people are drawing now, writing texts, and poems, and it is important.

In 2017, due to repression from the university administration, we, as an organisation, had to leave the university. The story began when a girl approached us, saying that she was being harassed by her law professor. We talked to other female law students and found out that this was not the first such case. Even on this professor’s Facebook page, there were public statements that could be identified as harassment; we printed them out and posted them around the university. After that, we decided to organise a protest.

I already had experience organising protests, so I sent out press releases to create resonance and achieve success — the dismissal of the lecturer. However, almost all media outlets refused me, and only our acquaintances came to cover the event. Additionally, far-right groups came to the rally because the lecturer spread fake information that he was supposedly being dismissed because he promotes and defends the Ukrainian language. These guys harassed the participants, grabbed their backpacks, and shouted insults. We had to interrupt the rally for safety reasons, but we finally held it the next day. By then, many more students had gathered because everyone learned that 30 titushkas had invaded the university grounds the day before and attacked peaceful protesters.

After the action, our activists were summoned to the dean’s office to exert pressure. Grown men would come to our events and jot something down so that they could report it somewhere later. Most of the participants in our organisation were studying for a master’s degree at the time, and we wanted to protect them, so we ceased our activities at the university.

From that point on until the full-scale russian invasion, we organised various protests, including the “I’m Not Afraid to Act” march dedicated to the MeToo movement. We were co-organisers of feminist camps and different educational events; we like to identify FemSolution precisely as an educational initiative.

Since February 24, 2022, we have been engaged in humanitarian work. We process many individual requests for assistance and provide it whenever possible. Immediately after this interview, I will go to pack humanitarian aid for Kherson. Our packages contain hygiene products, medicines that we buy on prescription, and sometimes clothing. We currently have a large base of internally displaced women, as well as those who have lost their jobs or have been affected by the war in other ways. We have significantly increased the number of followers on social media, and this motivates us to continue our educational activities. We have already started making posts about feminism, violence, and other topics, and we have seen that there is a demand for this. Now we plan to hold meetings for IDPs in Kyiv, including sessions for psychological support.

The initiative currently has 8 active participants, and there are also 4-5 volunteers, primarily helping us collect and package parcels. Yulia leads the humanitarian direction, and everyone else supports her. Three people are currently located abroad, doing what they can to assist, such as inputting recipient data into mailing lists online. All our other activists have already returned to Kyiv. Recently, we rented an office that primarily serves as a warehouse. This space has been extremely helpful, and in the future, we hope to have our own dedicated space for hosting events.

Activists of FemSolution do not receive salaries, and all the aid we receive is spent on humanitarian aid.

We have one grant that goes exclusively to humanitarian aid. We apply wherever we can, but no matter how many grants we receive now, we will still not cover people’s requests for help. People share their stories with us, and as we read them, we realise that the need for assistance is only growing and will continue to do so. When the Ukrainian armed forces liberated the Kharkiv region, we sent aid there, and people there had no access to basic hygiene products at all.

I believe that we are doing the best we can given the number of activists, but some of us refuse to accept this and try to work even harder. Our friends have organised events in our support in Finland, Germany, and other places. I urge people to continue doing this, as we constantly require donations.

In FemSolution, I am responsible for grants, but I also work at my main job, help Kryvyi Rih miners, and develop my project — the Left Horizons summer school.

Left Horizons is an opportunity for people who care about social change to come together and talk about things that are important to them, as well as look at them from the perspective of feminism, ecology, and so on. I have been to various activist schools, camps, and lectures, and I tried to take the best from them.

The concept of the school is that the participants themselves suggest the content of the program and then choose from the schedule where they want to go that day. No one is obliged to attend all the lectures and there is no need to because all the activities are independent of each other. Communication also takes place on an equal footing: I encourage participants, if they are experts on certain topics, to share this information with others. In the first year, some people indicated in their applications topics that they did not understand but were interested in. They were able to analyse these topics on their own and explain them to others in an accessible way. In the end, everyone liked this format, so we repeated it at the next school. If people have a request to listen to lectures, but there are no experts on these topics among the participants, then I invite lecturers.

This year’s school will be announced on the project’s Instagram.

I really like the Finnish education system. I recently traveled to Finland and had the opportunity to see how it works there. I realised that I intuitively made the school based on the same principles, but there is still something to improve. The school brought together many people with very different backgrounds. For example, we had a woman who works as an accountant in a trade union, a girl from the debate community, and people who create video games… It’s cool and I’m proud of this project.

I’m a huge stand-up comedy fan. My friend from the Feminist Lodge and I share this passion and started organising screenings with discussions even before the pandemic hit. It’s fascinating to observe the evolution of this genre and to reflect on the various jokes made by women, including those that are sometimes sexist. In February, just before the full-scale invasion, my favourite stand-up show was released, and we got together with other feminist activists to watch it. Some people couldn’t attend the event due to anxiety.

We all had a feeling that something was about to happen.

At that time, I was already in a volunteer group chat room discussing an action plan, and everyone thought it was inevitable that russia would start a full-scale war against us. But to be honest, when it all started, I was in a stupor. I realised that I couldn’t get to their headquarters and do anything. Very quickly I became a person who communicated with foreigners. But I had enough strength for only two weeks of such work because it was very difficult.

I didn’t want to leave Kyiv, but I relocated to another neighbourhood as I used to live close to the Ministry of Defence. The area without military facilities where I moved to was eventually shelled by the russians, although there is little talk about it. I was worried that the shelling would lead to power cuts, so I had to trek up to the seventh floor on foot. It was hard both for me and my elderly dog. We could constantly hear explosions as the air defence system was operational. It was a huge source of stress for us. I would only go outside for two or three minutes to walk the dog near the house while my brother held the door.

During air raids, we sought refuge in shelters, and I am grateful to those who allowed us in and reacted normally to a person with a large dog. After I left Kyiv, the kindergarten where we usually took shelter came under fire.

My mom and I decided to leave the city when we finally managed to fill up the car. We were at the petrol station when the air raid alarm went off, and we had to wait for it to reopen. Suddenly, we heard a loud explosion and felt a shock wave from a shell that hit somewhere nearby. It was terrifying not being able to see anything and not knowing if the next shell would hit us. I turned to my mom and told her I couldn’t live here anymore, and the next day we left Kyiv.

The road was very difficult and took about 30 hours. On the way, in Vinnytsia, strangers kindly offered us a place to stay and also treated the dog very well. Later we reached the Lviv region and settled in Stryi. Life there was calm, almost nothing happened. We were lucky to find a place to live that didn’t cost much. I did not know if I would have a job, it was not clear what would happen next. After living in Stryi for seven months, I returned to Kyiv in October.

Kyiv is my hometown, but I never envisioned living here during the war.

The first two weeks after my return were incredibly challenging, but things have improved since then, and I’m not as worried as before. It seems to me that I have already gotten used to the shelling and accepted the situation as a whole. I feel that everything will be fine.

It’s a little sad that there is such a stagnation with activism here now. FemSolution and I are going to try to revive the community. On March 8, in collaboration with the Feminist Lodge, we’re organising a charity event where feminist musicians of various genres will perform. Additionally, there will be a tattoo corner, a lottery, and vegan cuisine. All proceeds from the event will be donated to the 93rd Brigade, where our comrades are serving. They are currently on a mission in the Bakhmut direction; they need to repair vehicles and are in great need of drones.

It is important for me to highlight the need to support Ukraine with weapons.

It’s strange to hear discussions suggesting that anti-militarism necessitates withholding armed assistance from Ukraine. While I generally support the notion that there should be no weapons in principle, as someone with anti-militarist sentiments, we cannot advocate for this while russians are killing our military and civilians.

I am also frustrated by the topic of negotiations. There are often Western opinions that Ukrainians simply do not want to sit down and talk. I believe that this format of resolving the situation is currently impossible. There were negotiations at the beginning of the full-scale offensive, but during these negotiations, russia was shelling our cities, so what kind of negotiations are we talking about?

We need weapons to defend our people, the civilian population. If you want us all to be killed, then yes, we don’t need weapons for that. Ukraine is now fighting for the war to end, and we have no other way but to deter russian aggression.

Feminists of Kyiv is operated by a team of volunteers. We would like to produce more English-language interviews with feminists, LGBTQ+ activists, and other Ukrainian change-makers. You can support us with a one-time donation via PayPal ([email protected]) or on Patreon

Read More

Bilkis

2 November 2022
Editor: Bozhena Makovska
Translator: Maryna Isaieva
Photographer: Michael Tulsky

Bilkis is a grassroots intersectional feminist initiative that adheres to the anti-capitalist agenda. After the beginning of the full-scale russian invasion in Ukraine, they relocated to Lviv and adjusted their activities to the humanitarian needs of women and LGBTQ+ people. You can support Bilkis using these requisites.

Yevheniia: Yana and I studied at the university and lived together in a dormitory. At that time, I was immersed in the topic of feminism as I saw in it the answer to my problem — an eating disorder. Then I realised how important feminism is politically. We observed how things were going in Kharkiv and exchanged our thoughts, and views. There was only one organisation in the city that covered the topic of women’s rights, and we thought it would be cool to do a grassroots, horizontal, anarchist initiative.

Yana: Then I had already been a feminist for a long time, but I was involved in activism only sporadically. At some point, I realised that I had to do something different, and I shared this idea with Zhenya (Yevheniia). That’s how we created Bilkis. For several years, the two of us have been engaged in online activism, holding street actions dedicated to the topic of gender-based violence. Then we decided to expand and were joined by other members.

Yevheniia: This year in March we planned to hold an interactive lecture for teenage girls (8th-11th grades). Even before February 20, we posted leaflets with invitations around the city. We had been preparing for it for a long time and booked space, but on February 24, a full-scale war began. That morning I woke up to explosions. I asked my partner what those sounds were, he replied that it must be thunder. However, two more rockets flew by and it became clear that it was not thunder. We started packing, I called Yana and offered to go to Poltava together. My father took us there by car. From Poltava, we left for Germany and spent two months there.

Ivanna: I joined Bilkis a little over a year ago. I am from Donetsk region, but I’ve lived in Kharkiv for the last three years. I met the war when I was alone in the apartment. All the bomb shelters marked on the maps of my area were closed and the keys to them were lost. I moved downtown with my friends, and there we shared a bathroom and a hallway. Then I jumped on the evacuation train that was going to Kyiv, but it was extended to Lviv. In recent months, our initiative has done many different humanitarian tasks, in which I’ve been actively involved.

Lisa: I’m from Crimea, but I’ve been living in Kyiv for the past six years. On February 24, I woke up in the apartment where my friend and I lived for six years and saw that she was standing there dressed. She said “it started” and after a few minutes she left, leaving me alone. After that, other friends started calling me, urging me to go, and I started to pack. I went to live with my relatives in the Rivne region for three months, and I had a very difficult time there because they were not ready to live together, especially during the war. At some point, I went to Lviv, met my friends here, and they offered to move in. I joined Bilkis two months ago. Humanitarian aid is currently the main focus of our activity, but we want to get back to educational projects.

Yevheniia: We were constantly in contact with all the participants of our initiative, and we continued to hold meetings and discuss the possibilities of continuing our activities.

Yana: Even before the invasion began, we had applied for a small grant, and in the first days of a full-scale war, they responded that they were ready to provide us with these funds as an emergency. This probably became a catalyst for our humanitarian work.

Ivanna: At first, we provided targeted help, got some requests from relatives and friends, and sent them the necessary things. Then on our social media pages, we shared the message that we were sending humanitarian aid kits.

Yevheniia: This activity became more structured when Yana and I returned to Lviv, got together, and discussed the action plan. But we did not expect that there would be so many requests for help. After the publication, more than a hundred people wrote to us in a few hours. It reached 300-400 messages per day. And although we are no longer accepting new requests, people still reach out to us…

Lisa: Russian aggression continues and the number of requests does not decrease. People are leaving their occupied hometowns, they have no jobs, their children need medicine, and everyone needs food and shelter. And you have to turn all these requests down because you don’t have enough resources to cover them. You read their stories and it tears you apart…

Yana: In cases where evacuation is required, we can still redirect people somewhere, and find the places to stop. But we do not direct requests for humanitarian aid to other initiatives, because their possibilities are also exhausted.

Yevheniia: We spent a lot of money on humanitarian aid, and when the money ran out, we started looking for new opportunities. Then we noticed that all those Western foundations that provided emergency support at the beginning of the invasion were no longer ready to keep on offering it. Now they require us to be officially registered and meet their usual criteria.

Yana: Currently, we are helping using the money from donations and probably will continue to do so in the future. If people keep on donating, we will buy the necessary things and close the requests. I feel exhausted from humanitarian work, I am tired of people who ask us for help, of the fact that it is necessary to coordinate it and to carry heavy boxes. I want to stop doing it because it is unbearable to do it all the time.

Yevheniia: In Kharkiv, we felt that we were building a feminist community. Such a community already exists in Lviv, this way we will concentrate on our projects.

Yana: We now have an office in Lviv, and we decided to allocate one of the rooms for a permanent free market. People can bring their things there that they don’t need or take what they want. I would like in the future for this space to also become a platform for various events dedicated to eco themes.

Yevheniia: The project that I want to host in our space is feminist poetry evening. Once every two weeks, volunteers will gather and talk about their feelings through poetry: their works, or those they like. Since the beginning of the full-scale war, I’ve started to read a lot of Ukrainian poetry. It is difficult for me to express my thoughts in my own words in a conversation with someone, but I can read a poem and understand: this is how I feel.

Lisa: I would like to manage the cultural direction. Many female painters and sculptors lived and worked in Lviv. I would like to create and conduct feminist tours telling people about women artists. I also love cinema and want to hold film screenings about women and for women, including displaced women.

Ivanna: I have a small project that has already started. Together with Yana, I created a cycling club in Lviv. We invite women and nonbinary people on bike rides and ride together. This is something completely new for me, but I’ve been dreaming about it for a long time. I’ve been a solo cyclist all my life, and now I’ve decided it would be cool to build a community open to different groups of people who aren’t cyclists. I am learning to be inclusive and sensitive, and I want to tell people that cycling is not always about competition, so you can just ride and have fun. I enjoy having a sport in my life and I would like to share it with others. In addition, I am a courier for the Lviv Vegan Kitchen. At the beginning of the invasion, I was riding a bicycle to the suburbs of Lviv, and delivering food to the vegans of the Territorial Defence. Now I deliver lunches from them to the Feministychna Maisternia shelter every day.

Yana: If we talk about what kind of help we need, it is, first of all, involvement. I would like feminists from Ukraine to be invited to discussions as experts about their own lives as often as possible. So that they can tell what is happening in Ukraine now and what challenges they are working with, even if they do not know English well or at all.

Yevheniia: We need all the possible attention to Ukraine. Especially to women, queer people, and feminist groups who stayed and keep on working in Ukraine. We need a lot of money, as without it, unfortunately, some things cannot be done within the framework of the capitalist system.

Lisa: We ask people to trust the opinion of Ukrainian feminists and Ukrainian women, and discard some of your liberal, enchanted views about Ukraine and russia. To believe what is happening to us, and maybe even treat it more rationally. Often news about Ukraine is perceived very emotionally by Western communities, but then they offer to “make friends” with the occupiers. People should realise that the problem is not solely with putin, but with the russians.

Yana: Recently, I attended lectures about Rojava and we discussed that now Turkey is starting to escalate the war again. I want countries that have resources, which are often the ones of Western Europe, as they had places to export them from, to pay more attention to all the territories where there are currently some captures or military actions. So that the people living in these countries begin reflecting on the topic of their own colonialism and self-educating on the issues of both the countries of Eastern Europe and the Middle East.

If you find this interview interesting and important, please share it and support the Feminists of Kyiv media. For updates, follow us on Instagram

Read More

Read More

On gender studies, radical attacks, and relationship with her body
Feminist and Queer Defenders of Ukraine