About journalism, education, war, goals for the future. The story of Anastasia Izvoshchikova, a journalist of "Suspilne"

As part of the “War Diary” project, we ask the youth of Ukraine how they perceive and experience the terrible, but in many ways decisive for our future, war events. These are students from different universities, from different parts of Ukraine, who, despite all the difficulties of the war, continue to study, create, work, and inspire others to self-development and creativity. Many of them are learning to write materials to highlight the most painful topic of today — war. This time I managed to talk with Anastasia Izvoschikova. The girl works as an editor at “Suspilne movlennia’’ [Public Broadcasting] and is a 4th year student of the Taras Shevchenko National University, Institute of Journalism in Kyiv. She likes journalism, likes to write, realizing that her texts are read by thousands of people. She is fond of art: music, dancing, poetry. And also of French and travels.

Anastasia Izvoshchikova, journalist, editor of `Suspilne movlennia’’ [Public Broadcasting] student

What was life like before this war

If we talk about studying, then at the university we studied “normally” (that is, in classrooms) for only one semester in the first year. Then the coronavirus pandemic began, after that the war. It’s sad, but I sometimes try to joke that the indicator that something is going wrong in the country (or in the world) is the presence of morning summaries: the number of sick people, then the number of shelling, then the number of dead Russians, then summaries and schedules of power outages, etc.

I officially got a job already during the war. I don’t know what it would be like if this war hadn’t happened, and I won’t know, so I try to look for the positive, no matter what: I work with wonderful people, I love my job. Due to the blackout, we go to the office, but this is also good: I work in the company of like-minded people and we have fun and are comfortable together. In addition, I have the opportunity to participate in various special projects dedicated to our military, volunteers, and journalists. Therefore, I try not to think about what was and what could be, but to live today.

I cannot say that the war somehow radically changed me as a person. It seems to me that such difficult or even tragic events as wars don’t change you, rather they show the real you, somehow expose all your feelings and character traits as well. The war showed me what I am really afraid of and what I am not, which people are dearest to me, how hard I am willing to work, how important money is to me, etc. And in general, the direction of life, neither professionally nor personally, apparently, has not changed.

Did you believe in the beginning of a great war?

Somewhere until the middle of February, I didn’t believe it, like most Ukrainians, I guess. That is, I predicted that the Russians might try to “grab” another piece of Ukraine’s territory in the east or the south, for example. But it wasn’t believed at all that there would be a full-scale invasion and an attempt to attack Kyiv.

I think on February 12, I attended one training for journalists and fixers, where we were taught to apply tourniquets, stop bleeding, etc.For me, it was just an interesting experience and an opportunity to spend time in the company of like-minded people, but when I told my mother about it, she rather nervously asked “So, it will be a war if you are taught this, right?”. I answered something like “Everything will be fine, at least in Kyiv.” Even then it was unbelievable. But in the following days, the tension grew, as if this threat was already felt in the air: and when they made a map of the shelters, and when they tested the air warning signals, and even when they started to play the national anthem every evening on the Independence Square, and in general… Therefore, what happened on February 24 wasn’t already a surprise.

How does this terrible war influence your journalism today? How often do you work with this topic in your profession? Maybe you can communicate with people who have experienced some difficult periods of war?

I encounter the theme of war every day at work, of course, because it is the topical issue. In general, I have already learned how to perceive the information that I present in the news, not engaging emotionally there, to look as if from the outside or something. If there is emotionally difficult news, I try not to focus on the news itself, but on how to present the information in the most understandable way, how to convey the main thing to the reader, etc. Sometimes I just try to abstract from what “stands” behind the letters, words and sentences, although I don’t always succeed…

Personally, at work I rarely communicate with people who, for example, suffered from the war. I am, so to speak, the last link, because I work as an editor: stories are passed on to us by correspondents, and we already write news or other materials. But I want to say that it’s very difficult to constantly communicate with the victims. Just a couple of days ago, the former political prisoner of the Kremlin, Gennady Afanasyev, died at the front. And I know that one of our journalists called his mother to confirm this. I probably wouldn’t have been able to call with such a question, I just wouldn’t be able to find the words…

Several times I interviewed people who in some way contribute to our victory: for example, the head of the evacuation train or a singer and a volunteer. It’s certainly not the same as talking to military personnel or military family members, but it’s still not easy. But again, I try to focus on the fact that I’m doing important work: telling people about the heroes of this war, popularizing our resistance movement…

About the impact of mass shelling in Russia on work and everyday life

I probably can’t say what has gotten worse, but something has certainly changed: from banal things, when you have to adjust cooking, washing, washing your hair, and charging mobile phones to global working moments. In fact, all of us in the editorial office are currently working in the “constantly on call” mode, because we need to be constantly ready to connect and provide insurance if someone’s power goes out. For example, I’m almost never at home, even on weekends, because I’m constantly “in search of light”: sometimes in the office, sometimes in a cafe, sometimes in some special hubs like ‘’points of indomitability’’. On the one hand, it is calmer, but on the other hand, sometimes you feel as if you have nowhere to go and nowhere to hide (a kind of Odyssey of the 21st century).

During these almost ten months of the great war, what stories do you remember the most?

Well, first of all, probably the first week of the war: tension, queues at shops and ATMs, a national telethon constantly on TV, traffic jams on the way out of the city, well, in general, this whole atmosphere…

Then there were such flashback moments: the shock of what the occupiers left behind in Bucha, then the death of journalist Oleksandr Makhov in May. I remember watching the posts of his fiancée, Nastya Blyshchyk (also a journalist), and it really hurt: it hurt that she could meet so many beautiful people on her way, but they were taken away by the war…  At that time, I remember as she wrote in a report on the action of relatives of captives of Azov, and that too brought tears to my eyes (although this rarely happens to me, because, apparently, this is already professional deformation).

But then it must be said that starting from the end of May, a turning point occurred, and now happy moments began to be remembered more often: Ukraine won the Eurovision Song Contest, Azov was liberated, and Kherson was finally liberated. One of my classmates is from Beryslav in the Kherson region, and I remember how we cried together with her when the city was liberated (albeit via video link, but still).I think this is generally a good sign, and I hope that in the near future we will have even more reasons to be happy.

Currently, many of our citizens become volunteers, donate money to support the Armed Forces, and join various organizations in order to contribute to the victory. What do you consider your personal mission in these very difficult times for the country?

My mission is primarily the information front. From the beginning of the war until today, I write news: in the first days of the war, I used a phone while being in a bomb shelter, then in Ivano-Frankivsk region: in the middle of the mountains, often with poor connection and without an equipped workplace. Then — from abroad, often at night due to the time difference, after that — in Kyiv, often without light, illuminating the keyboard with a flashlight. But I almost never complain, I love my work in any conditions, and when you overcome some difficulties quite easily and even with pleasure, it means that you have chosen the right path and the right profession.

Then the editors and I were sent to Uzhgorod due to the threat of a blackout. There were many different experiences, nerves, but one of the feelings is that someone needs you, you need to continue working, and therefore what you do is important and needed by people.

On a business trip to Uzhhorod from “Suspilne”

Anastasia’s press card as an employee of “Suspilne”

What would I like to do the most? If we talk about the profession, then it is not only to inform people (what I mainly do now), but also somehow to inspire, to give hope. In a sense, I do this with my interviews, but I want something more: for example, to make a report from the liberated city or to live talk about Ukraine abroad. 

What, in your opinion, should be the retribution of the Russian aggressor for all the atrocities and crimes committed against the citizens of Ukraine?

Ideally, a kind of Nuremberg trial, a tribunal for “Putin and company”, in particular for Russian propagandists (for me, as a journalist, it is extremely important that people who sow evil not by actions, but by words, are punished). Then passing fair sentences, paying reparations to Ukraine and Ukrainians.

Russian soldiers who committed war crimes on the territory of Ukraine must be punished according to Ukrainian legislation: the high-profile case of Vadym Shishymarin can be an example.

At the same time, I fully understand that in real life it will be different: it’s still impossible to find all those who committed war crimes, and the Russian command and political elite are unlikely to be fully punished (according to the criminal code at least). But I’m a big believer in karma and the boomerang law and stuff like that. And that’s why I’m sure that the payoff will be: the way we expect it or another, but it will be.

The holidays are coming, yes, the end of December is just around the corner. What is your biggest ambition, goal for the next year 2023, what do you want to implement in the new year?

I have ordinary, perhaps even somewhat banal goals: to finish my bachelor’s degree, defend my diploma, enroll in a master’s degree, travel in Western Europe, try myself in a different style of dance (contemporary, for example), read a new book, etc. There are more global goals — to learn to feel more confident, to overcome some of my fears, complexes, or something. Well, of course, now all Ukrainians have one common desire and main goal: to celebrate the victory. I desperately want victory for Ukraine, for our people as a whole, for our best armed forces, but I also want victory for myself: not to fear for myself, my family and friends, not to freeze in a dark apartment without heating, light and water, to celebrate university graduation not online, but as it should be: in person, with robes, graduate hats and a lot of selfies and photos.

Translator: Bohdana-Nikolietta Terekhina

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