Iryna Liashenko

Every day as a violinist from Kiev, Ukraine, carries a blend of melody and melancholy. From the tender age when my fingers first danced across the strings, I was blessed with opportunities beyond my wildest dreams. At 31, I often find myself torn between the soaring heights of success and the somber depths of despair.

Gifted with a talent that bloomed like a rose in the fertile soil of encouragement, I found myself nurtured in the hallowed halls of a music school for the highly gifted. But just as my career reached its zenith, fate orchestrated a cruel twist, plunging my world into dissonance.

The opening of my own music school in Kiev was meant to be a crescendo of accomplishment. Instead, it became a mournful dirge as Russia's war against Ukraine shattered our hopes and dreams. My brother, a doctor on the front lines, sends me dispatches of horror that paint a vivid picture of the atrocities being committed. How can something as absurdly sad as this war exist? So much suffering, so much pain.

In the face of such despair, the impulse to flee abroad whispers seductively in my ear, promising respite from the chaos that surrounds me. Yet, even as the world beckons with open arms, my heart remains tethered to the ones I love, to the family who needs me now more than ever.

And so, I find solace in the one thing that has always been a constant in my life: music. In times of war, it is a beacon of hope, a salve for the soul. With each note that resonates from my violin, I strive to weave a tapestry of connection and healing, bridging the divide that separates us and reminding us of our shared humanity.

For as long as there is music, there is hope. And in that hope, I find the strength to carry on, to stand tall amidst the ruins, and to believe that one day, justice will prevail, and peace will reign once more.