My name is Yuliia Skrypnyk, and I have devoted 18 years to a profession I truly love. I live and work in a frontline community, 35–40 kilometers from active hostilities.
Our area is officially classified as a potential combat zone, but for us this is not a label — it is daily life.
I grew up in a family of educators. My mother was a physical education teacher, and from an early age I understood that school is more than a job — it is a calling. I chose to become an English teacher and have worked in education since 2007. Over the years, I have also served in leadership roles, helping to develop our school community, strengthen our team, and initiate new projects.
When the full-scale war began, education faced unprecedented challenges.
In-person learning required safe shelters, and not every school was equipped to provide them. Our lyceum eventually moved to an online format, yet what mattered most was that we preserved the school itself — as a space of connection, continuity, and belonging for children and families.
War has deeply reshaped our students’ lives. Prolonged remote learning, constant air raid sirens, limited social contact, and uncertainty about the future have increased anxiety, emotional exhaustion, and isolation. Many children face fears they cannot fully express.
Supporting their mental and emotional resilience has become one of our most urgent responsibilities.
Peace, for me, means stability — a return to face-to-face encounters and to the school and family traditions that anchor our lives. Our most cherished celebration, “Our Shared Porridge,” once brought together more than 1,500 people: 22 classes, their families, and the entire village. We cooked porridge over open fires, watched children perform, joined team activities, and shared the simple joy of genuine connection. Every May, just before the school year ended, we gathered as one community.
Peace means being able to hold this festival again in the evening light, without fear.
It is the happiness of togetherness — when loved ones stay close, no one is forced to leave, and everyone can return home. I once thought it was easy to change where you live, but war has shown me how deeply personal the word “Homeland” is, and how profoundly I love my village and community.
My work matters now because I can support children and help them preserve their inner resilience. Through the “Impulse” program by “Teach For Ukraine”, I gained a deeper understanding of the importance of mental health in wartime. During a three-day camp and follow-up supervision, I acquired practical tools to address anxiety and emotional exhaustion, and to nurture positive thinking and self-belief.
Today, my mission is not only to teach English. It is to help children endure, to protect their sense of self-worth, and to sustain their belief in the future.
Because peace begins with people — and with the resilience we nurture in the next generation.
A school is not a building. It is its people. And as long as we remain together, there is hope.
