In a neat hall a small crowd carefully paint fragile, wax-coated eggshells. The dozen children, teens and adults in attendance are learning how to decorate traditional pysanky at the Ukrainian Community School in Noble Park as part of the Ukrainian Folklore Festival.

Workshops like these compliment the school’s main mission of providing Ukrainian children with the opportunity to learn their language and connect with their culture. Principal Oksana King says it’s a need that would likely go unmet otherwise, particularly in such a small, scattered diaspora.

“Places like this are incredibly important because they are anchors of cultural identity, language, traditions, and just a place for Ukrainians to meet,” she says.

“We don’t get to meet in the shops. There are no schools where there would be a lot of Ukrainians.”

Outside, on a community noticeboard in the lobby, a pinned news clipping features US Secretary of State Marco Rubio’s statement that Ukraine must give up land in any peace talks. Beside it, question marks are written in black ink. Next to that, a curse word scrawled in blue.

The school is closely tied with the Association of Ukrainians in Victoria (AUV). Out of its head office in Essendon, the organisation fundraises for the war effort, post-war reconstruction and humanitarian aid. It was also the site of a recent speech from Ukrainian World Congress (UWC) President Paul Grod. In that speech, Grod asked if anyone in the room had lost a loved one in the invasion. A dozen or so hands were raised.

Since the full-scale invasion of Ukraine in February 2022 one of the few constants within the community has been loss. Oksana King, herself a first-generation migrant who moved to Australia in the 2000s, has family that still lives in Ukraine.

“You don’t want to believe that the worst can happen,” she says. “And then on the 24th my relatives in Kyiv heard the first blasts.”

King’s father was already in poor health when the invasion began and he suffered a stroke when trying to flee Ukraine through Warsaw, Poland. Six weeks later, he passed away.

“The idea was to take him to Latvia,” she says. “But unfortunately, he didn’t even get there.”

During the mass exodus of refugees from Ukraine, separation of families has been common.

“It’s a very typical story when people lose relatives, or mothers are forced to leave their sons, or wives are forced to leave their husbands because they can’t leave the country,” King says.

UN estimates place the number of civilian deaths in the conflict at over 12,000. While numbers have not been reported until recently, in February President Volodymyr Zelenskyy claimed that over 46,000 Ukrainian soldiers have been killed in the conflict since the full-scale invasion began.

The Institute for the Study of War has reported that Russian programs in occupied Ukraine are indoctrinating students and fostering Russian nationalism. UN investigations have found that as many as 314 Ukrainian children have been forcibly deported to Russia with many being naturalised as Russian citizens. This tremendous violence and continuing suppression of culture in their home country has only made Ukrainians in Europe and abroad more determined to keep the national spirit alive.

Principal Oksana King was working at Monash University at the time of the invasion.

“When the war broke out, I sort of got myself involved a little bit more in the diaspora, in the Ukrainian community,” she says. “First as a language teacher here in the association, in the school.”

King’s time at the school involved not only managing administrative tasks but also organising assistance for Ukrainian refugees in her area.

“We were the first sort of place, port of call, where lots of refugees came and sought help with settlement, with language tuition, and just general advice,” she says.

“We were that anchor for the community from the first day of the arrival of the refugees, but also much earlier before.”

Much of this work is happening in partnership with the AUV and the AUV Humanitarian Aid Committee. The group operates with a focus on providing refugees with a connection to the local community, ensuring their welfare, and aiding their transition through means including workshops and forums that teach them vital skills.

A large share of funding comes from the community, but AUV Chairman Eugene Hawryszko also acknowledges the wider public and the Australian government for the contributions that enable the important work the AUV does.

“We discuss the war. We discuss what we can do to help the refugees,” he says. “If we have to get grants in for the refugees we try and look after that as well.”

But even small acts like painting eggs play a large role fostering community, Oksana King has learned.

“To realise that festivals like this are sort of spreading the word about Ukrainian culture and about art gives you motivation to organise an event, however challenging it might be,” she says.

The work is made easier by virtue of it being a “pleasant chore”.

While wounds in the community have started to heal since the invasion, news of the war and the troubled peace talks is never far away. In the quiet meeting room, just two rooms away from where children are playing and painting, King shares her perspective on whether there would be a fair and lasting peace for Ukraine.

“Yes,” she says. “Look, I think this is the only way.”

Zelenskyy will not compromise on the return of all of Ukraine’s original territory, she believes, even while the path to peace promises to be a “long process”.

“I’m sure it will happen, sooner or later,” she says. “Hopefully sooner, but we’ll see.”

Article: Lewis Cain-McAliece is a third-year Bachelor of Media and Communications (Journalism) student at La Trobe University.

Photos: Supplied by author