Hope in a time of war: leading an international school in Ukraine

“When day comes, we step out of the shade, aflame and unafraid.
The new dawn blooms as we free it for there is always light if only we’re brave enough to see it,
If only we’re brave enough to be it.”

Amanda Gorman, The Hill We Climb

There was a certain irony about us sitting in the shelter at The British International School, Ukraine (BISU) during another air raid over Kyiv while discussing the UN’s International Day of Peace.

Yet despite another night of sirens and drones over Kyiv and Dnipro, my colleagues at this Monday morning staff meeting were focused on their lessons for the day and the meetings and events of the week, showing extraordinary professionalism in the face of an appalling war.

Indeed, the teams at Dnipro and Kyiv are some of the most cohesive and well-led I have encountered across a long career in schools, from Indonesia to Canada, Moldova to the UK.

Education must carry on

Once the briefing had finished, the “all clear” sounded and then it was out to the front gate to meet our students and families in the bright early autumn sunshine - a normal Monday like any other around the world.

That “hello”, smile, handshake and wishing a good day of learning have never been more crucial in the school communities of BISU, especially after nearly five years of war.

It’s moments like this that feel so important amid the existential challenges that the BISU schools and all schools across Ukraine face.

Yet Ukraine and its children deserve education to continue, and it is that belief that was one of the reasons why I wanted to come here as principal. Despite all the very real challenges, there is nowhere I would rather be as an international school leader.

When I asked colleagues why they were here as teachers, the answers were clear: purpose and duty. A UK colleague here said to me: “We all want a just peace, but I come into school every day after a bad night of attacks and I know this is where I need to be.”

Learning in air-raid shelters

Indeed, celebrating the new academic year on 1 September with the whole community, and 30 years after BISU was founded by the inspirational Olga Zastavna, was a reminder of BISU’s history of promoting British International education in the country.

That work continues in the face of war: conversations about our COBIS accreditation later this autumn, student conferences in Europe, exam retakes, course coverage and everything else you would expect in any school carries on as normal.

Of course, though, much of our reality is very different. We have designed our air-raid shelters in all schools to double as underground classrooms, so students and staff are safe as education continues.

Learning takes place in all sorts of hybrid, synchronous and asynchronous formats, and I am very conscious of how much pressure this puts on everyone, especially when sirens can go off frequently throughout the day.

At times I can’t help but reflect on how challenging the 2020s have been for school leaders - and because of issues that the National Professional Qualification for Headship never mentioned.

Through all of this, pupils’ resilience astounds me. When they go to the shelters, they don’t go down scared; they high-five me as they walk down the steps or jokingly tell me their lunch will get cold.

Outside, during the breaks when they can be outside, students talk, run around, play football, read books, tell me what they did on the weekend, gently tease one another - all as normal as school can be.

If it rains, they tell me I have brought the “British weather” to Ukraine. The funniest moment was when I borrowed an umbrella with a duck-head handle and I was asked if I was “Mary Poppins’ brother”.

Finding and keeping hope

Around the world conflict is rife. It would be easy to lose hope, but education cannot fall by the wayside.

I am grateful to everyone who makes sure learning doesn’t stop for children and young people in conflicts and wars around the world.

There is always light and there is always hope, and I reflect deeply on this daily as I walk to school here in Kyiv and travel across Ukraine to Dnipro.

Of course, when I arrived, I was asked frequently why I was here and wasn’t I afraid.

The first question is simple: I want to be here because this is where I feel my duty and responsibilities are as a leader to serve this community.

To the second: I am afraid; I have my family back in the UK and worry for the children and young people in my care here. This is not about any heroic act on my part.

On a recent rail journey to the school in Dnipro, my train stopped eight times as Russian drones attempted to bomb the tracks.

Waking up to ballistic missiles crashing into central Kyiv at 2am is something you don’t forget in a hurry either.

Never giving up

But there is hope and optimism here, and an absolute solid determination that the children of Ukraine will have a good future to inherit.

I quoted the poem The Hill We Climb by Amanda Gorman on the first day of the new academic year. Ms Zastavna had declared this academic year the “Year of Light” and wanted to make it clear that we know there are challenges but we can overcome them.

As a poet, Gorman has found her inspiration by drawing on how people have overcome overwhelming and seemingly inevitable moments in history. The final lines seemed especially apt.

At BISU and in countless schools in war zones around the world, educators and families are making sure that education happens, no matter what. It is too important to fail. It is too important to just give up.

Rob Ford is the principal of The British International School, Ukraine