In 2014 I began my education. I chose the country and conflict that would fuel my degree in International Studies. I learned the language and the history.In 2018 I visited Lviv. The most beautiful place, and incredibly patriotic. I spoke to men that had been injured in the war. Most places flew the battle flag of wars past, representing Ukrainian nationalism; red blood spilled on black earth. Dark, compared to the peace time flag of blue skies and yellow fields. In 2019 I was accepted into a Peace Corps mission in Ukraine. When my medical clearance was denied because of crps I was determined to go anyway and found an amazing host family with a language school needing teachers. I stayed and taught english near Kyiv. I re-started language lessons. I spent nights in the city. I visited a pizza place operated by vets filled with war memorabilia. I can’t help thinking where all these people are now. I took a trip to Odesa and did a service project overnight in catacombs. People spent years living down there during WWII. I can’t help but think if people are hiding safe there now as well. And the most important part- the kids I taught. The kids I still talk to. The kids that tell me how scared they are. How civilians are being bombed. Midnight messages about how they can hear helicopters and planes. Fathers in the military whose locations are unknown. Mothers that are doctors and haven’t been home in days. The kids that are kids no longer, but children touched by war; a type of adult in a class of its own. Ukraine has been my home. I am lucky enough to have other, safer homes. All these people for whom I fear don’t. In a country as free and independent as mine, and yet this is what they woke up to two days ago. All I can do is talk to them. I can’t save them from this reality. Devastating. Disgusting. Слава Україні!!