Olena Vaidalovych is almost 28 years old. She identifies as a Ukrainian Romani. She was raised in a traditional, conservative family that was surprisingly quite open and modern. This is evidenced by the fact that Olena could study for as long as she wanted and choose her university after completing high school. At that time, she received immense support from her parents. They never brought her down, making it much easier for her to achieve what she wanted to achieve.
She remembers being a teenager when not every girl dreamed of a professional career. Today, it's quite the opposite, and Olena receives many messages confirming this change. Romani girls write to her that she is their inspiration, motivating them to develop. "I'm happy about this because I see every day that women like myself want to finish school and have a good job. They understand that without education, their future will be more challenging," she says.
Olena was born and raised in central Ukraine, with many wonderful and less joyful memories. She remembers when she was about five years old, playing on the playground with other girls when their mother approached and took them away from her. She said something like "She's a Romani; you can't play with her," and it hurt. It was evident that those two girls didn't understand why their mother was interrupting when they were having a good time. Little Olena remembered that event for practically her entire life. Perhaps even then, she decided that she didn't want her childhood and later adulthood to look like that. She promised herself that she would put in as much effort as she could to break the stereotypes about her community.
When she started primary school, in the first grade, some children made it clear to her that she didn't fit in with the majority. She was bullied for who she was. It wasn’t about her personality, but about the fact that she was a Romani child. Children assumed, therefore, that she wasn't equal to them. She still remembers jokes that didn't amuse her at all. "Predict our future," "tell the fortune from our palms," "dance for us, sing."
Even then, she tried to explain to them that Romani people can live differently than those around them; they have their customs and culture, that’s all. But it didn't help. God forbid something went missing in the class. All eyes turned to Olena. She was the first and only suspect because "that's how Romani are; they steal," she heard constantly. In the sixth grade, she said “enough”. She was tired of it, so she began to respond aggressively; someone pushed her, so she pushed them back. Her mother came to school, tried to talk to the teachers, asked for support, and questioned them about why they allowed her daughter to suffer. They didn't know how to help. It seemed like they just wanted peace and quiet in the class. They avoided confrontation with the parents of the children bullying Olena, and nothing changed. And she knew she had to deal with it herself.
She was 12 when she went to the school principal on her own. She said they would either help her or she would report what was happening higher up. That she would even go to the media. They asked for her suggestions, so she came up with meetings for students and teachers during which they could talk together about cultural diversity. Maybe the first lessons didn't change the children's outlook immediately, but in the following weeks, she saw that some started to have a better approach to her. It was as if, for the first time, someone explained to some of those children that the world isn't made up only of people like them.
University was much better; her classmates were often more polite, but it didn't mean they were entirely free from stereotypical thinking. Olena still heard "jokes" about palm reading and predicting the future. Sometimes female students would ask her, "who will be my husband?" or "how many children will I have?" Sometimes, she felt that, in their eyes, she wasn't good enough because of her background. As if a Romani couldn't be as intelligent as others, and couldn't do as well academically as others. No one really believed in her. At that time, she thought to herself, "OK, we'll see." And she became one of the best students at the university. The only person who supported her at that time was her mother. Only she, out of her whole family, paid attention to Olena's problems in school or at university because others didn't understand what she was doing there and why she needed a diploma. They saw her destiny as having a husband and raising children.
The challenges never discouraged her because deep inside, she was always a rebel. She had decided not to give up. She knew where she was heading and promised herself not to be swayed from that path. "Joke all you want, you all; we'll talk again in ten years," she told herself in her mind. Today, she sees how her nieces, slowly entering adulthood and whom she remembers as babies, want to follow in her footsteps. Their parents used to say, "Olena, give it a rest." Now they ask her for advice for their children, telling them, "Look at Olena, be like her." It fills her with pride.
She never hides her background in any situation; she sees no reason to do so. She understands that her Romani friends might not want to do it to avoid discrimination, but she prefers to confront it. Even if it comes at a personal cost, like when she mentioned she was Romani in her first job. Suddenly, everyone around cleared their desks of their phones, stashed them in lockers, and the girls pulled their purses close. That's when she quit, stating that she didn't want to work with people who saw her that way.
Later, she received a scholarship for talented youth and went to Switzerland. There, she worked at the Office of the United Nations High Commissioner for Human Rights, focusing on the rights of the Romani community. She learned a lot during that time. She was also the first Romani person, at just 20 years old, to speak at the UN on the topic of minority rights. She felt honoured, a wonderful feeling to be there among distinguished activists from around the world, most of them at least twice her age.
That's why today she doesn't dwell on what happened when she was a child or what she experienced later. Whatever happened, she knew what she wanted to achieve, and now she wants to tell other Romani girls that if they don't give up despite difficulties, they can achieve what they dream of.
Currently, Olena works in Warsaw at the Foundation Towards Dialogue. She will stay in Poland for some time for sure. What about the future? Time will tell. For now, what matters is that she is an active, Romani women's rights advocate, emphasizing that where you come from, even if it may seem like an obstacle, can be overcome with determination and effort.
The views and conclusions expressed in the text represent the author's opinions and do not necessarily reflect the official position of the Heinrich Böll Foundation.