The beginning of the story is in the first part of the article.
When the war between Russia and Ukraine began in 2014, what were your thoughts about volunteering at the time?
I didn’t think much about volunteering back then. I just wanted the Russians to lose. They had taken Crimea, where I had only really gotten to visit for the first time in the summer of 2013. We spent two weeks traveling around, going all along the coast, from Myrne to Alupka, and almost as far as Feodosia.
I didn’t think much about volunteering during that period. I was thinking more about the injustice being done to people. Although it seems to me that volunteering in Ukraine grew significantly at that time, and that was something that couldn’t help but make me happy.
How did your view of your own activities change overall after 2014?
I became a little proud of myself, maybe even quite proud, because I realized that not everyone around me volunteered or tried to bring a little bit of kindness into the world. And I thought, well, maybe I was doing something right — I’d always wanted to do that.
On the other hand, I realized that people who hadn’t volunteered before weren’t necessarily doing anything wrong — they were making money instead. There are different ways to help: you can create a valuable product that people are willing to pay for, and that also makes the world a better place. So I rethought volunteering to some extent and started taking myself more seriously.
How did volunteering in Plast after 2014 differ from what it had been like before the war?
Certain conflicts began to emerge within Plast itself. It is the largest children’s and youth organization in Ukraine, and there are a lot of us. It turned out that even ‘rowing the same boat’ meant something completely different to each of us. There are radical people who believe that all efforts should be focused on helping the military. Others were more supportive of religion, saying that if people had prayed to God more, none of this would have happened. We realized that we saw all of this very differently — volunteering, the benefits it brings, and our priorities.
I completely rethought all of this. And it was somewhat difficult, because it’s sad to see people pursuing radically different directions — not all of them are necessarily useful; everyone simply does what they like more. But some people considered their own direction the most important and insisted that everyone else should see it the same way.
That’s not something I can relate to. Ever since I was a child, I’ve never understood how you can compare the importance of people in a process when, if you remove even one element, everything falls apart.
How have you personally changed as a volunteer over these years — from 2014 to the present?
Plast is a large organization, and even statistically speaking, by 2014 there were already people who had been killed, wounded, or developed PTSD during what was then called the ATO. Many of them were my close friends and guys I had been romantically involved with.
I remember thinking, when I was studying the history of Ukraine, that the Muscovites would never leave us alone, you know? I lived with the feeling that all of this was just history from a book, and it was very difficult to believe that this war could actually enter my own life. It gave me a certain sense of sadness and a feeling that our efforts were pointless, because no matter what we did, we had no chance until there were fewer of them.
On the other hand, at that time I wanted to step away from Plast because I was tired and had had a not very positive experience. But a friend said to me, “Look, if you leave, who will stay? And what will happen next?” I thought that these weren’t just my problems — I could take care of myself anyway. But I couldn’t shake the thought that the easier it would be for every citizen of my country to live, the easier it would be for me to live, too. And the more people wanted to rebuild and develop Ukraine, the better it would be for me to live here, because I wouldn’t be working on it alone anymore.
And I decided that this was such a great investment in the future, and I really got fired up about it. I wanted to work even more with people, especially with those who didn’t care about any of this, who wanted to leave the country.
How did volunteering change for you after the full-scale invasion began? How did Plast itself change in 2022?
Many Plast members went off to fight — far more than in 2014, probably because the scale of the war was so much greater. It’s really sad that so many amazing Plast members have been killed. You keep reading obituaries and thinking, How many incredible people are dying.
Plast has also changed because of its gender division: if there’s a boys’ group, it can’t have a female mentor, and vice versa. And underage boys are suffering because they genuinely have no one to work with. This affects everything — the economy, the ideology — because I see who is dying, and these are incredibly valuable people.
Plast is also changing demographically. Women are trying to take everything into their own hands, while men are thinking, “Well, I’ll go fight — what else am I supposed to do?” That creates another kind of pressure because we’re a patriotic organization, and internal conflicts have emerged — “Why aren’t you fighting?” That shouldn’t be happening, but unfortunately, it is. I think it simply came to the surface because there hadn’t been a trigger for it before.
What moment or story from that time has stayed with you the most?
I remember the tradition of Secret Saint Nicholas in our group very vividly — we would draw names to decide who would give a gift to whom. It was supposed to happen in December, but it didn’t work out, so we ended up getting together in January.
By then, I already had a friend who lived in a house, and he asked me, “Listen, there’s going to be a war, right? Tell me how to refill gas cylinders, because if the Moskals come, we’ll need to wait it out.”
We laughed and said, “Yura, are you out of your mind or what? What war? That’s ridiculous.”
Then Mykolayko came along and said the same thing: “I’ve signed up for the territorial defense because there’s going to be a war soon.”
There was also a guy who worked in intelligence. He had only recently joined Plast, and he said, “Yes, there’s going to be a war soon, most likely by the end of winter.”
And we were sitting there thinking — I felt pretty safe, I suppose: “Everything will be fine, we’ll figure it out, the Moskals won’t be able to withstand it.”
Then the war started, and on the first day my husband, the kids, and I drove from gas station to gas station — there was nothing, just long lines. I had never seen that kind of chaos in my life. ATMs, currency exchanges — you couldn’t get anything done anywhere.
And I was pregnant, due to give birth any day. I was thinking: What do I do? Do I pack our bags? Do we stay or leave? How am I even going to get to the maternity hospital?
My brother invited me to come to Germany, but even going to the store with a child was difficult for me while pregnant, let alone moving to another country.
I thought, “I’d rather a missile hit us, because I’m not going to survive a move on top of everything else.” Moving, getting settled, figuring out everyday life — all of that was extremely difficult for me.
It was just complete chaos. And now I find it a little funny that everyone had been saying there would be a war, while I was thinking, “Oh, this is all nonsense.”
And how did you get into sports volunteering after all that chaos?
Very simply. When I started coming back from maternity leave, I really missed having friends and people who shared my views. My husband is quite practical and focused on the family, while I’m an extrovert — I want to be around people, have fun, and be involved in things.
Once I made friends in Plast, I started to feel a little better. I would go to concerts and lectures with them, and join them at their Plast meetings. Then I saw an announcement from one of the Plast members about recruiting volunteers for a sporting event.
I used to be an athlete myself — an amateur, of course — but I really feel a connection with athletes. I thought, Great, I should go. It was right before New Year’s, the last event before the holidays.
I showed up, and there were so many people. It was so cold, and we had to arrive so early. I was thinking, Oh my God, people, what are you doing? Are you really this hardcore that you run in conditions like these?
Then I saw that they actually did run, and there were mostly guys — far more men than women. And I was like, Oh my God, you’re all so handsome.
And that was it. I decided that from then on, I’d do sports volunteering, at least for the aesthetic pleasure of it.
I try to take part in all kinds of sports volunteering. The atmosphere among these people, who are so close to me in spirit, is incomparable. I absolutely love being there.
How is sports volunteering different from what you did before?
Lately, my main volunteer activity in Plast has been working with the younger generation — you work with them, organize meetings, come up with the program. Basically, you’re “at the wheel,” in some kind of managerial or leadership role. I also ran training sessions to teach adults how to do this.
These are responsibilities where you can’t just show up or not show up and expect the event to happen without you. If you don’t do your part — or ask someone else to do it for you — the event simply won’t happen. And when something goes wrong, you’re the one who has to deal with it. You’re responsible for everything.
But in sports volunteering, I’m just a volunteer. And I absolutely love it — you just show up, do what you’re told, talk to people, and that’s it. If something goes wrong, it’s not your problem at all.
That’s how I get to relax. You’re doing something useful without putting too much pressure on yourself. It’s a radical difference — when you’re just an ordinary little ant in the system. And that’s comfortable. It’s much easier than being in a leadership role in Plast.
What gives you the strength to keep volunteering for so many years?
Being around people who share your values and with whom you just feel comfortable. I’ve wanted to quit everything several times — thinking that I could be doing something more useful, like making money, which I never seem to have enough of.
But when you come into a group of these people, there’s nothing like it. You could even be a director of Nova Poshta, and then come and pack race kits for runners — just laughing together, someone messed something up, maybe they told you off or maybe they didn’t — and it’s all okay.
That simple, sincere atmosphere gives you so much energy. These people are great, and because I do many different kinds of volunteering, I get a lot of energy from them too.
What would you advise those who are only thinking about joining Plast or getting involved in volunteering?
Think carefully about why you want to do it. Everyone can see volunteering differently: some people may see it as a waste of time, some as a way to have fun, and others as something useful for the world.
Just look, feel it with your heart. Don’t overthink it — listen to yourself and ask whether you actually want to do it or not.
That’s my only piece of advice, not just about volunteering but about life in general: listen to your heart, listen to your body, pay attention to how it responds.
I’m not a very confident person myself. I’m often held back by thoughts like, “Will I be able to do it? Do I really need this?” Your brain will never make the decision. No matter what task you give it, it will always find a reason to doubt.
So just feel whether you want to do it. Whether you should or shouldn’t is a separate question — you’ll figure that out somehow later.
Let yourself be guided by what you want to do. If you want to get involved, get involved. If you’re not quite sure, try it anyway, come along for a while.
Always listen to your heart.
Translator: Ivan Chepaykin
