Authors and participants of the Summer School: Almira Nesipbaieva, Daryna Rasputna, Anastasiia Khomiak
In Ukraine, over the past few years, the word “future” has acquired the strange aftertaste of a life put on hold. “After the war,” “after victory,” “when you grow up” – we were taught that real action would begin sometime later. Yet the “Youth for the Future of Ukraine” project completely overturns this perspective. We are a generation that has clearly realized that our tomorrow will not arrive on its own, like a date on the calendar. It is being built right now – by our hands, our thoughts, and our voices.
The stereotypical portrait of a modern teenager or student is often limited to carefree scrolling through social media feeds and detachment from what is happening around them. But the reality of our generation is radically different, because we are growing up to the sound of air-raid sirens, monitoring fundraising campaigns instead of TikTok trends, and choosing training in media defense, first aid, or tactics instead of traditional holidays. These are not children’s games. In times of crisis, every skill – from applying a tourniquet to being able to distinguish a fake from a fact – is a step towards our agency. We are learning to withstand blows physically so that we can have the right to defend our country intellectually.
Of course, we have people to look up to. We grew up with the exhortations of Taras Shevchenko and the state-building ideas of Mykhailo Hrushevsky. But today, our generation seeks its role models not only on the yellowed pages of the past. Our heroes walk the same streets as we do, breathe the same air, and make the world admire contemporary Ukraine here and now. We look up to Artur Dron – a poet who, from the trenches on the front line, proves that Ukrainian poetry can be armor-piercing. To Oksana Rubaniak, call sign “Xena” – a young woman who traded civilian life for a machine gun and became a symbol of women’s courage. We admire Yaroslava Mahuchikh, who raises the Ukrainian flag on podiums around the world, and young scientists who, under shelling, patent inventions for the front.
At the same time, we carry within us an unspeakable, piercing pain. We look up to those who will never finish writing their report, never finish listening to a lecture, and never embrace their loved ones again. To Roman Ratushnyi, who fought for justice in the capital and then was killed near Izium. To Maksym Kryvtsov, whose prophetic poems continued to live after his death. To Oleksandr Hrianyk, Daniil Savchenko, Ihor Mysiak – thousands of young, beautiful, fearless girls and boys who gave their lives on the battlefield. It is certainly impossible to mention every name on a single sheet of paper – this list is engraved in blood upon the very heart of our nation. They are all a mirror of our generation. People who did not wait for the right moment or for the war to end, but simply took the fate of an entire country upon their young shoulders. And we have no right to let them down.
This is precisely the philosophy of action nurtured by the “Youth for the Future of Ukraine” project. It brings us together, teenagers who are completely different and come from different communities, around a single goal – to become the voice of our towns and villages. During intense discussions about information hygiene, we came to understand perhaps the most important thing: the media space is a kind of front line. We are learning to create “words that build,” rejecting paid-for disguised journalism, known in Ukraine as “dzhynsa,” and similar trash.
We are the generation of “despite everything.” We are not waiting for tomorrow because we know that Ukraine’s future has already arrived. It pulses in volunteer hubs, is being written in our notebooks, and speaks through our young voices. Soon we will return home (while some of us never left) and continue writing our own strong, unbreakable story, a story being created together with us. And as long as Ukrainian hearts continue to beat, unconquered Ukraine will live on.
