Starting today, 60 students at the “shkola” of the NUOVO school group in Utrecht will be taught by Ukrainian teachers. Another 60 students will join them this week. They are all between the ages of 12 and 18 and are staying with host families in and around the city.
Report and text by Ulrike Nagel.
As soon as the first refugees arrived here, Gerben Houwer began to think about what to do. He is the principal of the Ithaka School in Utrecht, a school specifically for refugees who come to the Netherlands from war-torn areas and want to integrate quickly. “We set up this school within a few weeks. I first spoke with a number of Ukrainians, and it quickly became clear that there was a difference, because most of them would simply prefer to go back home—so we also want to offer them education in their own language and with Ukrainian teachers.”
Brand-new classrooms and Ukrainian teachers
The students attend classes on the fourth floor of the Nieuw Welgelegen building on Grebbeberglaan. They’re in brand-new classrooms—the floor had been vacant. “We were very lucky to be able to use all these spaces right away. And we found the teachers through a call for help on social media.” A day later, there were about eighteen Ukrainians here whom we first asked what kind of education would be best for the students. We created a customized program, taking the students’ needs into account,” says Gerben.In the end, eight Ukrainian teachers started working here right away. One of them is Nataliia, who fled with her two young sons. They left Odessa on March 11, where Nataliia teaches English at the university. They’re on their way to stay with friends in the Netherlands—her husband stayed behind. Now she’s standing in front of a class of ten Ukrainian students, ages 16 and 17. Her English sounds very British; she comes across as a strict teacher, with students who listen attentively. At first glance, this is a perfectly normal class.
Making Friends
“We also talk about the weather and how everyone got here in the rain today. It’s good to have a distraction from the war back home. The children, who have undoubtedly experienced trauma, are being taken care of so well here. It’s amazing what they’ve managed to organize here in such a short time. It feels like we’re surrounded by family here. And being able to teach helps us take our minds off things for a while. And this way, the children can make new friends. I think that’s very important.” Kateryna agrees. She’s from a small town near Kyiv and lives with her mother in a host family. Now she comes to school here every day and meets other Ukrainian teenagers. “We didn’t know each other at all, but now we’re friends. Last Friday we celebrated a birthday together—things are moving fast. It’s nice at my host family’s house; we play board games together and try Dutch dishes, like tompouce. They’ve shown me all the different ways you can eat it,” Kateryna says with a laugh in English.
Nikita is a classmate sitting a little further down the room. This morning he cycled all the way from his host family’s home in Maarssen—nine kilometers. “That went fine, no problem. I’m from Kharkiv; I do have a bike there, but I didn’t use it very often. My dad stayed there, with my grandparents. They’re not doing so well right now—their apartment no longer has any windows, so they’re staying with my dad in our place for the time being.” All of his Ukrainian friends are now scattered across Europe as well. “Some are in Germany, some in Belgium. Many friends are still in Ukraine, too, just in other parts of the country or closer to the border. We text each other to see how everyone’s doing. But we’re safe here now, so that’s good.”
It’s clear from our conversations that they’ve all adapted to the situation incredibly quickly. But it hasn’t always been easy. “For a while, I continued teaching my students in Odessa via Zoom,” Nataliia explains. “Even when they were already in a bomb shelter. But at a certain point, that was no longer possible because the connection was gone. Now I’m still in touch with them through text messages on my phone.” The moment the camera is off, it all becomes too much for Nataliia. Tears roll down her cheeks as she admits she’s very worried about her husband, who’s still in Odessa. He can send text messages, but the situation isn’t getting any better. She’s worried about her students. And part of the university in Kharkiv has been hit by a bombing. She would love nothing more than to get a full night’s sleep again.
How are her two children doing under these circumstances? The boys are playing with Legos in a corner of the classroom, because they haven’t quite found a primary school for them yet. “As far as they can, they’re doing just fine. And we’re so incredibly grateful—people are so incredibly hospitable and have welcomed us so warmly. Everything was already taken care of; when we arrived, there were even toys waiting for us. We were welcomed with so much warmth.” She says she knows how to appreciate even the smallest gestures. “We arrived with winter clothes, so even this dress I’m wearing now isn’t mine at all—someone gave it to me.”Today is her older son’s birthday; he’s turning 9. She had wanted to celebrate that with her husband. “That’s why we had children—to enjoy them.” A moment later, the sad mood turns back into cheerful laughter. The boys are finally allowed to run over to the refrigerator a short distance away. “Maybe we should take a little break,” Nataliia says to the students. “We’re going to eat some cake first.”
