My grandparents often spoke of Kiev. They referred to it as a City
in Russia close to where they lived. They spoke of it fondly while
describing how threatened they were by Russian authorities.
They came to America because of fear of the Russian military and
because their 15-year old son was participating in efforts that today
we might call an uprising.
It is only recently after reading about the uprising in the Ukraine
that I realized that the Kiev my grandparents spoke of was indeed
the Ukainian Capital and not a Russian city.
I find it odd to read about and watch men and women in the heart
of Ukraine's political crisis without wondering could they be my kin?
I have always believed the world is small and that as a species
we humans are related, somehow. The Ukarinian upheaval
connects the dots to the oppression felt by my grandparents
to me in a very personal way, and there too am I.
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Kiev? No wonder I felt an affinity when we first met! My grandfather was from Vitebsk just north of Kiev. It's considered Belarus but its proximity to Kiev is clear. However, as a Jew I don't look at the protestors and wonder if my relatives are among them. Unfortunately, Ukrainians did an excellent job of ridding their country of its Jews in horrific ways. I support their aspirations for democracy, but the stories my grandfather told - including the need to come to America to evade serving in the Russian Army - do not fill me with love for the very people who drove us out of there.
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