In the depths of a decision between leaving or staying


By Clémence-Maureen Feniou

The war in Ukraine started Feb. 24, 2022.
Since then, more than 12 millions Ukrainians have been displaced.

When life is altered from a simple daily life known by millions of people to the horror of war, one would consider it unthinkable.

“As soon as the war started, we saw explosions, heard the sound of bombs, missiles, rockets, fighter jets,” said Ruslan Pisliakov, a Ukrainian refugee.

The rockets whistle, and the shrill sound of alarms freezes your blood. Grabbing your children, you run down the stairs because this is no game. It is life or death.

“We rushed to my office, with my family, to live in the underground parking,” Pisliakov said. The cold and the silence rush in, and the red eyes and the silent tears settle on terrorized faces.

“I looked down and saw fear and terror spark in my kids’ eyes. It is a sight my wife and I will never forget,” he said.

It is a war where the children cry, and the adults pray. They escape and hide. They have to live. To survive. This is what Tetiana Shevchuk, Ruslan Pisliakov, his wife Viktoriia Pisliakova, and millions of other Ukrainians went through.

Ukrainian soldier walking in the streets of Borodyanka ©Алесь Усцінаў

On Feb. 24, 2022, Russian troops invaded Ukraine. Seven months later, the United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees estimated that more than six million Ukrainians fled the war, and seven million were displaced within the country.

Since the first invasion of Russia on Ukrainian soil, more than 100,000 refugees have arrived in the United States, according to the UNHCR - no precise data has been released by the U.S. government - through B1 and B2 visas, a private sponsorship called United for Ukraine and humanitarian parole status given at the border. Amid the ongoing fighting, and Russian threats, many fear they’ll never return home.

With Russia’s mobilization of 3000,000 reservists, rocket attacks, and threats about using their nuclear weapons, the slight faint of peace in Western and Central Ukraine could disappear within a day. And with it goes the hopes of Ukrainian refugees wanting to return home. “We don’t know what to do. One day it looks better, the next day, the news is worse,” said Pisliakov, a refugee from Kharkiv, currently living in San Diego.

Pisliakov’s hometown is a city in the northeast of Ukraine that used to be under Russian control. Now recaptured by the Ukrainian forces, it’s a feeling of relief for the family even though they are well aware that the war is nowhere near the end. Four regions near Kharkiv got their annexations to Russia ratified: Kherson, Zaporizhzhia, Donetsk, and Luhansk. An event that raises fears is the annexation of Kharkiv, one of the targets of the Russian government. “If I’m going back, I’ll live in Ukraine, never in Russia,” Pisliakov said.

Since the start of the war in February, its evolution and intensity decreased as months passed. Russian troops concentrated in the Dombass region, and a sense of life reappeared in western cities like Lviv and the capital Kyiv. Since last May, the UNHCR data registered more than three million border crossings from Ukrainian refugees to the war-torn country.

If some returns are short-term to check up on family or property, a survey realized by Reach-UNHCR demonstrated that 84% of refugees entering Ukraine from neighboring countries reported returning permanently to their area of origin in Ukraine. But the decision is much more difficult for families now living overseas, especially when Ukraine is still subject to violent attacks any day.

With two kids in school in San Diego and a whole side of the family in Southern California, the decision seems even more difficult. “Now that we’re here safe, we could build something, but that means we have to stay away from home,” Pisliakov said. It’s a situation for many Ukrainian families.

“We try to make them feel at home here, so with time, they put down roots, and it will be more difficult to leave as time goes by,” said Alla Boyko, a volunteer with the House of Ukraine in San Diego. The organization has arranged fundraising, clothes collection, and food banks to aid refugees from Ukraine. They have also helped with housing, beginning in March and in the following months during busy periods of refugees’ arrival.

Months later, the House of Ukraine has ongoing activities for refugees. Every Saturday, near Balboa Park in San Diego, a bunch of kids run into the arms of each other, babbling a mix of Ukrainian and Russian. Some are refugees who fled the war with their parents, some have lived here for a few years, and others are Ukrainian Americans. But these Saturdays are here for their shared culture. Ukraine. Its traditional clothes, songs, food, and dances. For a few hours, four times a month, there is no war anymore, not for the children, not for the parents. “Some kids were born in the U.S., others fled the war. In both ways, they feel at home, and we can see how much it’s comforting,” said Boyko.

But all of this remains temporary. “Ukraine is home, but for now, if we want to live, we have to stay here,” said Masha Shevchuk, an 18-year-old sophomore studying business administration at the University of Southern California. She was lucky enough to leave Ukraine when the war started. Her mom, Tetiana Shevchuk, lived through the war for weeks. “People imagine everyone rushes into the bomb shelters at every alarm, but it’s not true,” Shevchuk said. “After a while, you just stay home and pray that the rocket will not hit you.”

Living safely in the U.S., the 18-year-old did a series of all-nighters. Fearing for her family, her friends, and country. Unfortunately, her dad could not leave Ukraine because of his work, essential to maintaining communications with the armed forces. When her mom started to fear for her safety one month into the war, she flew into Los Angeles and met up with her daughter safely.

Regularly, the streets of Kyiv are destroyed by aerial bombardments ©Алесь Усцінаў

A Ukrainian firefighter observes a ruined building in Kyiv ©Алесь Усцінаў

The streets of Kyiv are barricaded to prevent the progress of russian military vehicles. ©Алесь Усцінаў

In Kyiv, after an explosion, ruins surround a neighborhood ©Алесь Усцінаў

As well as thousands of others, Tetiana Shevchuk - Masha’s mother - was allowed entrance into the United States through the Uniting for Ukraine program, which requires refugees to be granted a financial sponsorship from a U.S. citizen or permanent resident. “It’s also a bogus program because it’s a temporary program. It also privatizes the sort of de facto refugee protection. Why someone who is in danger, and where the U.S. is supposedly offering protection to that person in danger. Why should that offer of protection be dependent on that person in danger knowing someone in the United States,” said Niels Frenzen, professor at the University of Southern California and expert in immigration law.

Pisliakov and his wife, Viktoriia, were also sponsored by their family, who reside in San Diego. “As soon as we got the papers, we jumped on a plane from Poland,” he said. That ended a long trip the family had started around Ukraine to stay safe from the war zones. With that status, their family has the right to remain on U.S. soil for two years, even if the thought of going home still lingers in their minds.

The UNHCR estimates that the Biden administration has welcomed more than 100,000 Ukrainians refugees onto its soil since the start of the war on Feb 24. The Uniting for Ukraine program aside, other paths exist for refugees seeking a temporary path to peace. The B1 and B2 visas, also known as tourist visas, were used to enter the United States soil, allowing them to stay six months in the country. “If they overstay their visa, they are subject to deportation. But the U.S. doesn’t go after everybody,” said professor Frenzen.

Obtaining a B1 or B2 visa requires a visit to the U.S. embassy, which was moved to Lviv, Western Ukraine, but closed to visa services. In a statement last updated July 18, 2022, the U.S. embassy in Ukraine is still not offering any visa appointments or services. Refugees had no choice but to travel to neighboring countries and their U.S. embassies.

Niels Frenzen
Attorney and Professor of Law

One solution was then left, flying to Mexico or Canada and trying to cross the border on foot. Being war refugees, humanitarian parole status was granted at the border, allowing Ukrainian refugees to stay legally in the United States. “All the Ukrainians that came to the border seemed to be paroled in the United States. It remains unclear how long they were paroled in for, maybe around a year,” commented professor Frenzen.

On March 3, Secretary of Homeland Security Alejandro N. Mayorkas announced a designation of Ukraine for TPS. Temporary Protected Status is eligible for any Ukrainians that have lived in the United States continuously since April 11 and is open to registration until October 19, 2023. TPS provides holders with a work permit and protects them from potential deportation.

As long as Ukraine stays under the designation for TPS, its citizens may work and stay legally in the United States. “So TPS by law, Um, can not be issued indefinitely. It has to be issued for specific periods of time. But it can be extended, and usually, the announcement is going to be made months before it expires,” explained Frenzen. If that status were to end next year, its holders would lose their right to stay and work unless a switch in their status.

Shevchuk, now at USC, was previously studying as a freshman at the University of South Florida and is in the U.S. under an F-1 visa. But as the war extends, the 18-year-old fears deportation. “I applied to the TPS, so I won’t have to worry about being sent back to Ukraine,” she said. Shevchuk, who met all the requirements, hopes to hear back quickly from TPS, especially for her mother.

“I feel protected with my F1 visa, but my mom is only here with Uniting for Ukraine. Being granted with TPS would allow her to stay here for at least a year, find a job and some bits of what’s a normal life,” said the USC sophomore.

“All the solutions offered to refugees are temporary, we are safe here, away from the war. But I’m afraid we will have to soon worry about being sent back to Ukraine?” said Pisliakov. The only permanent solution is asylum, leading to U.S. citizenship if granted. The application is open to any Ukrainian refugee on U.S. soil, but fleeing from war is not enough for it to be granted.

A missile is lodged in the middle of the road in Kharkiv ©Алесь Усцінаў

“Asylum can be granted if the harm you’re facing is due to political reasons or religious reasons or reasons of nationality or race. Typically with a successful asylum application, you have to show that you’re being singled out. And if you are a victim of war because there are bombs and missiles falling from the sky, that is not individually directed at you, it’s directed at everybody,” said Frenzen.

When they add up, asylum decisions can take years, which might worsen if immigration officers are overwhelmed by Ukrainian applications. “Even before the situation in Ukraine, the U.S. immigration system, specifically the asylum unit of U.S. citizenship and immigration services, USCIS is tremendously back laid,” Frenzen said.

With both countries not engaged in negotiations, the war in Ukraine might last for months, maybe years, leaving millions of Ukrainians far from home, on temporary status with no idea of what might come in the future. “I just live my life one day at a time,” Shevchuk said.

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