This collection of student reflections offers a profound and moving glimpse into the generational dialogue shaped by trauma, resilience, and identity. Prompted to consider what they would ask their parents as young adults, these students do not merely inquire about the past; they seek to anchor their own turbulent present.
Amid the stark realities of ongoing war, these inquiries naturally pivot toward themes of national identity, personal sacrifice, and existential choice. Whether exploring the shift from Soviet to Ukrainian identity, questioning the weight of bringing children into a conflict-ridden world, or pondering the wisdom of past investments, these pieces reveal a collective striving for understanding. There is a poignant contrast between the technological and social anxieties of twenty years ago and the survival-driven concerns of today. Ultimately, this compilation transcends a simple academic exercise. It stands as a testament to a generation navigating unimaginable crises by seeking the roots of their parents’ choices, vulnerabilities, and enduring love.
Maria Kravets:
The question I would ask my parents is “What is your nationality?”.
The reason why I’m curious about this is question is because many people in the Soviet Union identified more with being “Soviet” and I wonder whether my parents truly felt Ukrainian at that time or whether nationality simply did not seem important to them. I think this question is connected to the war because national identity has become one of the main things Russia is trying to take away from us, and understanding how previous generations viewed it can explain a lot about the present
Oleksandra Lutsenko:
Sometimes, when I put myself in my parents’ shoes, I wonder: what could have been done differently? Where could we have made a different choice? Something that might have led to a better outcome than the one we have now?
Unfortunately, the realities of our times often force us
Question to my parents to wonder how things might have been different. During the war, these thoughts fill my head, sometimes leaving no room for anything more pressing.
But what question would I ask them – my parents, who were still young and inexperienced, having only just started their lives at the age of 20?
For me, the answer is obvious: where would you have invested more of your resources and energy?
It would be quite logical to ask this, because now many people regret having spent their energy and time—which are so precious—on things that are completely irrelevant now. Investing in languages, travel, or some first-aid skills would have been truly useful, but some people are only now beginning to think about their real importance. After all, when there is a war on the streets, the course of which can turn in any direction—not always favourable to us—such skills help one feel more mobile and better adapted to crisis situations.
However, the decision not to invest in these things may also have brought about some positive changes in our lives. But that is something we can only speculate about.
M.R.:
If I could flip back time twenty-five years into the past and ask my then nineteen-year old mother a question about Ukraine, we would both be at a loss. At that time, Ukraine had yet to become her home; she was only able to see it boxed into the flickering gridded screen of her television. Perhaps I’d confront her with the fact, nudge her towards guesswork: in just a few years, your life will jolt abruptly into a new direction; you will take root in a new land, become one of its people; both its triumphs and its woes will become your own, and you will pledge to build a life there and nurture it forever. “Are you excited?” seems an odd question to ask. “Are you ready?” would perhaps be more appropriate. But how can one envision a journey one has yet to embark upon?
I do not know if I would tell her about the decade of hardship looming over our land, a time so tumultuous and cruelly bleak that it seems almost fantastically improbable.
Maryna Semenyuk:
I would ask them if they feel like you spent enough time on their hobbies and rest while raising children?
I’d like to understand the sacrifices my parents made during upbringing and learn how to balance my family life with personal well-being.
Inna Pohrebniak:
I am sending you my answer to the question “What would you want to ask your parents when they were 20 years old?” If I could ask my parents one question each at the age of twenty, their answers would probably reveal a world very different from the one I know today.
My mother has always been an extremely responsible person who is able to multitask and manage countless projects and responsibilities at once. Therefore, if I could speak to her twenty-year-old self, I would ask: “What are you most anxious about at this stage of your life?” Many years have passed since then, and she can no longer recall the specific worries that may have kept her awake at night when she was my age. That is precisely what makes this question so compelling. I would want to know what felt most difficult and overwhelming for her back then in order to compare our concerns and fears. Being twenty today comes with its own set of pressures and uncertainties, and it would be fascinating to discover whether her anxieties resembled mine or whether they belonged to an entirely different world.
My father’s favourite way to unwind after a long day is scrolling through social media. Moreover, he can hardly imagine his life without modern technology. Yet when he was my age, things were strikingly different. The Internet had only just appeared in Ukraine, computers were still a novelty, and mobile phones were considered a luxury. Therefore, if I could sit across from my father as his twenty-year-old self, I would ask him one question: “What did you think the future would look like?” I would ask him this question because I grew up in a world where the Internet and technology had always existed, so the contrast between his youth and mine seems both fascinating and difficult to imagine. Today, innovative technologies continue to appear at an incredible pace, and technological progress is expected to accelerate even further. Because of this, it is sometimes unsettling to think about what the future may hold.
I believe that hearing my parents’ answers to these questions would help me understand not only the world they grew up in, but also the experiences and worries that shaped them into the people they are today.
Daria Shvidka:
I would ask my parents “What would you have done differently if you had known that in 20 years your country would be at war?” I chose this question because I’m not sure my own parents would have stayed in Ukraine if they had known what was coming. They are successful, fulfilled people – and yet I wonder if that would have been enough reason to stay. This question makes me think about what people truly value when everything is uncertain: their roots, their ambitions, or simply their survival. It’s not just a question for my parents – it’s a question I ask myself too.
Myroslava Marynchuk:
If I could go back twenty years and ask my parents one question, it would be this: “Will you bring up a child in a country where war is happening?”
This question may sound simple, but it carries the weight of an entire generation. Twenty years ago, my parents could not have imagined that their home country would one day become a place of missiles, shelters and constant fear.
Perhaps they would have said yes — because home is home, no matter what. Leaving everything behind is never an easy decision.
Yet I also think about what it truly means to raise a child during wartime. Children need safety and stability to simply be children. War takes all of that away. It replaces playgrounds with bomb shelters and bedtime stories with air raid sirens.
Asking this question is not about blame. It is about understanding the impossible choices parents face. Perhaps that is the most honest truth — that even in a country at war, love is still the reason people stay, build families and keep going.
Diana Kulynchenko:
The question came surreptitiously and completely out of the blue. Satisfying my own curiosity, I would like to ask my mom: if she was already aware of her current married life, would she marry her husband with all passion and faith again? The ground of the question hides the observation that some women are really losing their sparks after marriage. We all know that it is a new responsible stage in life. A lot of future goals, burdens, and obstacles will arise. For the time being, she is sacrificing all her time for the family, working and stopping to pursue her own ambitions. I noticed that the parent’s connection becomes apathetic and indifferent. Let’s skip continuation. Well, the weight of the world is on both of their shoulders, hers especially, but why does one couple pass it all successfully and the other one collapse? Most likely, is the issue with a man? Speaking honestly, I have no idea. One day I believe I will be full of courage to ask her.
