We Are What We Know

We Are What We Know

" I screamed incoherently from fear and frustration regarding my predicament," (Arthur 5), when suddenly the word death became morbid reality. Death is a disgusting, sad word that strikes people when least expected. When my grandmother passed on to eternity a few days ago, I realized that one of the four links I had to my cultural background was gone. Despite one of the links being severed, my cultural beliefs, knowledge and lineage is clear and important to me. Although she is gone now, she has taught me, and left me with the knowledge of who I am. Through the constant celebration of cultural customs, I am well acquainted with my heritage and identity.

One could only imagine a more beautiful place than the one my family and I come from. With continual blue skies and golden grain growing further than a human eye can see, Ukraine is known as the breadbasket of Europe. It stretches from the Carpathian Mountains on the west to the Caucasus Mountains on the east, just north of the Black Sea. Through out history many Europeans and Asians have invaded Ukraine. They wanted to control its rich farmland and mineral resources. Ukraine has withstood border disputes with other surrounding Slavic countries. Since 1700, the Ukrainians belonged to czarist Russia, and western Ukraine lay in the Austrian Empire. In 1917, czarist Russia fell and Ukrainian tried to set up their own nation. During World War I, Ukraine became the battleground for the Poles who together fought the Bolsheviks. Ukraine also was the battleground for World War II, with Ukraine falling into the hands of Soviet control. It was during that time that my grandparents and great grandparents were forced to leave everything behind and flee their burning homes and villages with only their clothes on their backs. Landing up in a Displaced Persons Camp in Germany in 1949, they settled there with others Ukrainian families awaiting host families to sponsor their journey to America, the home of the free. They may have had only few possessions with them, but when our family landed at a Mennonite farm in Ohio, they brought with them their ethnic heritage, culture, identity.

America was a land that accepted all ethnic people, giving the immigrants the opportunity to make a better life. My grandfather, who was the studious one, was not much help on the farm.