Editors Note: This article documents my recent visit to a Ukrainian sports boarding school in the Kyiv region during the ongoing war. The aim is to highlight the resilience of educators and students navigating their education amidst conflict. All names of institutions and some identifying details have been omitted for security reasons. Blackboards and Bomb shelters
In a dimly lit gym beneath the imposing rafters of a Soviet-era building, teenage girls run fierce drills on a polished wooden court. Above them, geometric patterns in gold and burgundy trace the roof’s edge, echoing a past that predates Ukraine’s independence. Yet, their sweat and focus are anchored in the now—in a country torn by war, where education and sport have become acts of quiet defiance.
A Legacy Carved in Stone and Sweat
This school in Kyiv Oblast, Ukraine, is one of many sports boarding schools founded during the Soviet era to groom future Olympians. Across Ukraine, these specialised institutions combine academics and athletics, serving as both educational centres and athletic academies.
In Brovary, corridors lined with trophy cabinets tell stories of champions past—students who grew into Olympic medalists and world-class competitors. The walls are heavy with history and art, adorned with drawings of Taras Shevchenko crafted by students, underscoring the enduring link between national identity and education.
But since February 2022, when Russia launched its full-scale invasion of Ukraine, the students’ dreams and routines have been shattered by war.
Daily Life Under Air Raid Sirens
When I arrive on a chilly morning in March, suspicion lingers in the air. It takes a quiet conversation and name-dropping my contact before tension eases. I am ushered into the assembly hall, where I meet students and teachers who are navigating the intersection of sport, learning, and survival.
Semen, a 17-year-old swimmer, recounts the disruption. “The hardest part was getting ready for class after a rough night’s sleep because it’s hard to get enough sleep in the basement,” he says. Like many Ukrainian schools, this one has transformed its basement into an ad hoc bomb shelter.
“It’s hard to focus when your morning starts by climbing out of a bunker.”
Semen, student.
Rough nights have become routine. When air raid sirens sound, up to 240 students retreat to the shelter beneath the school. They sleep on scattered mattresses under the dim glow of emergency lights, hoping the walls above them hold.
Despite the exhaustion, Semen maintains his commitment to sport. “Discipline and fortitude,” he says, are what keep him going.
The Toll Beyond the Physical
The war has left its mark not just on buildings but on minds. Anfisa, 15, has been studying here since fleeing Dnipro, a city battered by missile strikes. “Some days feel like the calm before a storm,” she says, her blue eyes bright beneath a colourful hoodie.
Anfisa dreams of becoming a swimming coach. Yet, like many students here, the psychological burden weighs heavily. “We still go down to the shelter when the sirens start,” she says, “but there isn’t a safe place anywhere right now.”
According to a 2024 study published in the journal Healthcare, the prevalence of PTSD among Ukrainian civilians, particularly youth, has risen sharply since the escalation of hostilities. Anxiety, depression, and hopelessness are common.
Anfisa, student
“It’s hard to dream when you’re unsure of tomorrow.”
Teachers Become Psychologists
Teachers have assumed roles well beyond the classroom. Rubalio Alla, an art and history teacher with over 30 years of experience, tells me, “Today, to be a teacher, one must be part psychologist, part animator, part educator, part nurturer.”
The staff organises informal celebrations and gives students assignments designed to lift their spirits. Art classes often double as therapy sessions. “We let them draw freely,” Rubalio says, “so they can process what’s happening inside them.”
Rubalio Alla, teacher
“They ask, ‘Why study when we could die tomorrow?’”
A Fractured System
Nationally, Ukraine’s education system has suffered staggering damage. According to the Norwegian Refugee Council, 1,306 educational facilities have been damaged and 294 destroyed since 2022. Schools that remain open do so under enormous strain.
Human Rights Watch reports that many schools near active frontlines have been used for military purposes by Russian forces, contravening international law. The disruptions have left millions of children learning online or in makeshift classrooms.
Even in Kyiv Oblast, far from the bloodiest battles, frequent air alarms and power outages disrupt classes. “Recruiting new students has become difficult,” the school’s sports coach explains. “Parents don’t want to send their children away with the threat of missile strikes.”
Sports as Resistance
Despite the chaos, training continues. In the school’s boxing gym, students spar beneath posters of Ukrainian heavyweight champions, the Klitschko brothers. Next door, the netball court reverberates with the sounds of whistles and sneakers.
“Sport is how we stay sane,” says Anfisa, who trains daily. “It’s how we prove Ukraine is still here.”
UNICEF’s Sport for Development program has found that sport offers critical psychological benefits to young people in conflict zones, promoting resilience and mental well-being.
The Funeral Outside
As I leave the school, a funeral procession winds past—over a hundred cars and multiple pedestrians line the road. Drivers kneel beside their vehicles, many holding Ukrainian flags.
The students, teachers, and townspeople alike understand the stakes. Amid the grief, life and learning go on. The resilience on display at this school is mirrored in communities across Ukraine.
A Plea for Global Solidarity
“What helps us most is moral support,” the sports coach says. “When people abroad see what’s happening here and stand with us, it makes a difference.”
Ukraine’s teachers and students are fighting two wars: one against an invading army, the other against despair.
Conclusion
In the face of sleepless nights spent in basements, interrupted lessons, and the constant wail of air raid sirens, Ukraine’s students and teachers carry on. They balance textbooks with trauma, sports drills with survival tactics, and dreams with the sobering reality of war.
But inside these Soviet-built halls—where trophies line dim corridors and hand-painted portraits of national heroes cling to the walls—something stronger than bricks and mortar is holding everything together: an unbreakable spirit.
From the disciplined resolve of students like Semen and Anfisa, to the quiet, steadfast care of teachers like Rubalio, this school is a microcosm of a nation that refuses to surrender its future.
Their courage is a reminder to the world: education is not just a casualty of war—it is one of the fiercest battlegrounds. And in this fight, Ukraine’s classrooms have become frontlines of hope.
Call to Action
The world must not turn away. Education is not merely about textbooks and exams—it is about preserving the very fabric of a nation.
Support organisations providing aid to Ukrainian schools. Share their stories. Donate if you can.
Because behind every statistic is a Semen, an Anfisa, and thousands more, hoping that resilience is enough to carry them through. Blackboards and Bomb Shelters, Blackboards and Bomb Shelters, Blackboards and Bomb Shelters, Blackboards and Bomb Shelters, Blackboards and Bomb Shelters
