I Stand with Ukraine.

Last year I began a new tradition of attending Colorado’s annual Ukrainian festival. I’m not Ukrainian, but I am disgusted by this war. So I’ve been making jewelry to raise funds. It’s not much, but it’s something I can do to live my values. So far I’ve raised over $500 for humanitarian aid and military supplies.

This year, I had the honor of standing alongside a dear friend as she vended her own wares. I added my humble creations to her table, learned about her adopted army unit, and began greeting customers. It felt refreshing to practice my native-tongue. Every sentence felt intentional. I felt useful.

But when folks lingered, I (generally) retreated. My inner voice kept repeating, “don’t ask where I’m from, PLEASE don’t ask where I’m from.” How can I effectively relay that I am from there, but not of there. Our customers were so eager to claim their nationality, but me - I’m ashamed of mine. They’re fighting to hold onto their native land, but mine rejected us generation after generation. 

I left feeling proud of what we had accomplished, and distanced from that accomplishment. Afterall, Ukraine and its people are beautiful, but it’s not my homeland. I was achingly aware of my identity as a wandering Jew.

Last year I wrote, “It’s not surprising that I struggle with belonging. Eastern European Jews were raised on a steady diet of rejection and disdain. Those aspects of my identity were almost designed to be isolating. But I’m learning to find solidarity through other lenses like parenting.” And I’m delighted to share that my sense of local solidarity has continued to increase.

I may not have a larger community where I feel understood, but I AM building a VILLAGE where I feel seen, known, and supported. Looking through my calendar, I’m tickled by the plentiful friend-dates and nights out. Moreover, these are the same women who help with carpool, brainstorm professional ideas, ask about my parents, and bring snacks for my kiddos. These are the women with whom I can share the mundane and extraordinary moments of everyday life. And you know what else??? They’re from everywhere!! (e.g. multiple American and international origins)

So maybe it’s ok that I don’t have a homeland. I’m a Third Culture Kid, and I’m creating a global village.