What can a small village do?

Fundraising for Ukraine

Hello dear friends,

There’s a lot on my mind, but a quick moment to appreciate the little ways I’ve enjoyed the transition from winter to spring.

I’m finding myself enjoying much more time outside. I read outside for the first time in what feels like a long time. I haven’t had to layer up before sitting outside and I can transition from inside to outside with so much more ease. It’s been warm enough to bath the dogs and the fact that they’re cleaner already puts me in such a lovely mood.

While summer is filled with intensity in so many ways, everything about spring feels gentle and subtle—my two-thirds introverted heart appreciates these nuances immensely. In these days of transition, it takes a little more attention to notice the sun, the breeze, and the slightly longer days… too much is missed if you don’t really look and feel. I’m grateful for spring and all its slow new beginnings.

Pepe

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What can a small village do?

Twice every month, I’ve been helping run an English after-school lesson/program for elementary students. It’s been quite an exhausting but rewarding journey—exhausting because Kamikatsu kids have a lot of energy (and I’ve been a camp counselor for several years in high school), and rewarding because many of the children don’t have access to various after-school programs unless their parents are willing to drive them to the city, so it feels good to give back to the community in this way.

In preparation for our after-school program this week, I sat down with another instructor from the village to mill over the details of our upcoming lesson. At the end of the meeting, the instructor asked me if he could ask a question about something unrelated. I said “Of course, you can ask me anything”, and immediately I could feel a bit of concern as he said, “Is there anything we can do… for Ukraine?”

Before I replied, he continued and said, “Maybe we can help them immigrate here or find work? I wonder if the government could help, or if there are jobs?” His words were starting to trail but I got the point.

I was taken aback because this was the second person who had come up to me in days to ask me if there was anything we could do for Ukraine. When the tragedy in Ukraine first unfolded over a month ago, I felt like the village of Kamikatsu was so far removed from places of influence, political will, and money (and perhaps even awareness) that I/we couldn't do anything. I decided to make a personal donation and keep it at that. It’s not like I was hiding anything, but I certainly wasn’t being vocal in Kamikatsu about standing in solidarity with the Ukrainian people.

Kamikatsu, a small village, in many ways, can feel like a bubble. A bubble in a positive way looks like a tight-knit community, where trust and care flow in abundance, but adversely the outside world can feel distant and it’s easy to go about daily life without tapping into the world at large.

making cranes for our fundraiser on April 2

So hearing, for a second time, that someone in Kamikatsu wanted to do something to support Ukraine felt like a splash of cold water on my face. I realized that there was awareness and intention, and perhaps (since people were approaching me) I was in a position to rally support.

Later that evening, I sat down with two others and we decided to organize a fundraiser (selling cookies) and an online talk to provide people in Kamikatsu (and outside of the village!) a chance to virtually connect with Ukrainian people. I'm grateful for my master's program which truly gave me an international family, including Ukrainian alumnae. My ties to them through my studies have made me feel like I have a responsibility to do something to show my support.

These last few days I’ve been making posters and sending messages to everyone I know in Kamikatsu (and beyond). In the beginning, I considered Kamikatsu too small to make a difference, but I realized that was the wrong presumption. It’s not only about the dollar impact, but it’s about united solidarity, which I know Kamikatsu can do.

What I believe any small community has always known to be true is the necessity of coming together and supporting each other in difficult times. I hope that this fundraiser draws the good intentions of the villagers and that online talk broadens our collective understanding of the realities on the ground.

cookie sales and online talk on April 2. 100% of donations will go to humanitarian relief efforts on the ground

Both the events (cookie sales and online talk) are public and free. Likely you’re not from Kamikatsu if you’re reading this so I’m sorry I can’t sell you a cookie, but the online event is open to anyone (presentation in English with Japanese translation).

If you’re interested in hearing from my Ukrainian friends about their realities, please do join us (17:00 JST, 10:00 CET, 11:00 EET).

Updates of the fundraiser next week!

1 month of the war in Ukraine. My heart aches at the ongoing, brutal acts of terror and injustice. In the face of daily news about the war, it feels like all my hope vacuums into a hole of despair. If I feel tired of hearing words like 'shelling' and 'siege', how much more is the pain of those experiencing it? 

What continues to pull me out of hopelessness is seeing how people from all over the world unite in solidarity and take action in support of Ukraine. A cliche that rings true is that the worst and best parts of humanity emerge in times of crisis, but I have to hold onto the best parts to make sense of it all. 

We can’t always understand why terrible things are happening in the world, but we can (and should) believe in the rippling effects of the good we choose to put out into the world.

Sending love,
Kana