As I listen to some of the stories shared by the recent Ukrainian displaced people in Canada, I am reminded of the echoes from over 130 years ago when the first Ukrainian displaced people sought sanctuary in Canada. The details may differ, but the pain, suffering, and trauma remain the same. For generations, Ukrainian families have been forced to make impossible decisions—leaving behind everything they dreamed of, their homes, their land—for the sake of their children’s safety. Each journey is marked by the deep heartache of separation and the uncertainty of an unknown future.
Today’s displaced people, like those before them, face the burden of misunderstanding. In the countries they now call home, they are often met with judgment and blame. Instead of compassion and support, there are questions: “Why did you leave?” “Why didn’t you stay?” The complexity of their choices, the need to survive, and the sacrifices made for the love of their children are lost on many.
Yet, amid the struggle, there are those who offer compassion and care. Some displaced families have found people who understand and who open their homes, hearts, and hands to offer support. For these displaced families, the weight of their pain is lessened by the kindness of others, by those who choose to share their burdens. These gestures of humanity become the world to them. It is a reminder to thank the individuals and communities who support displaced populations, for their compassion creates the lifeline these families need to carry on.
This story is not only of fleeing war, but also of finding a way to carry their culture, their roots, their homes, and their memories wherever they go. These families are not abandoning their land—they are carrying it with them, in the hope that one day, they can return to a place where they and their children will be safe. The weight of judgment is heavy, but the strength of their spirit endures, as it always has.
I asked ChatGPT to generate the photo I have seen online designed by Pawel Kuczynski and although AI is not yet able to follow all my prompts precisely, I was able to create one that tries to show the reality of many displaced people:
They walked in silence, their footsteps heavy with more than the weight of their bags. The mother, her two children, and their cat, pressed onward down a path that seemed to stretch endlessly into the mist. From a distance, it would look like a family on a simple journey, but the closer one came, the more they would see the roots that trailed behind them—roots that twisted around their legs, tugging at their feet as if the land itself couldn’t bear to let them go.
Each of them carried a backpack, but these were no ordinary bags. Inside, surreally visible, were miniature versions of their homes—traditional Ukrainian houses with thatched roofs, vibrant designs around the windows and doors. The houses clung to their backs as if they, too, were refugees trying to escape the destruction that had engulfed their land. Roots, thick and tangled, wound their way down from the houses, symbolizing the deep connection this family had to the soil of their homeland, now ravaged by war.
The roots were a mix of reality and memory—some were real tree roots, tough and gnarled, while others resembled Ukrainian embroidery patterns, the stalks of wheat, and the golden petals of sunflowers. But these roots, as strong as they seemed, could not hold on forever. With every step, some snapped and broke, leaving pieces of themselves behind, embedded in the earth that was now disappearing behind them like a fading memory.
They weren’t walking to anywhere specific. The path ahead was uncertain, shrouded in mist, but they pressed on for the sake of the children. Their story, like so many others, was unknown and unseen. In towns they passed through, people often looked at them with judgment—accusing eyes wondering why they had left, why they didn’t stay to fight, why they carried so much. But the judgment came without the offer of support, without the recognition that these backpacks, these houses, weren’t filled with things but with memories, with culture, with a home that no longer existed.
The image of them walking away, houses strapped to their backs, wasn’t a symbol of escape but one of survival. They carried their world with them because leaving it behind would mean losing everything. The mother didn’t cry, though her heart ached with every broken root, with every step farther from home. The children, innocent and resilient, didn’t fully understand why they had to leave. They only knew they were going somewhere new, somewhere safer, and that was enough for now.
The clouds above began to form a shape, a bittersweet reminder of what they were leaving behind. It was the shape of Ukraine, as if the sky itself was holding onto the country, unwilling to let it fade completely. They could no longer see the rich, dark soil of their homeland beneath their feet, only the uncertain ground ahead. But even in the mist, even with the weight of judgment and misunderstanding from others, they knew they had to keep walking—for their children, for the future, and for the roots they hoped to plant once again.
This is the story of displaced people, often unknown, often unseen. A story that deserves to be told not with judgment but with understanding, compassion, and the support they so desperately need. For behind every broken root, every house carried on a back, is a person trying to find their way back to a sense of home.
I encourage everyone to check Pawel’s images, they are thought-provoking and remind us about challenges people face. I appreciate the focus on peace and Ukraine. It visualizes the suffering of people in creative ways, makes us think and analyze. Take a look on websites that feature Pawel’s work and share the story about your favourite image.
Pawel Kuczynski, born in 1976 in Szczecin, Poland, is one of the most prominent contemporary satirical artists. After graduating from the University of Fine Arts in Poznan in 2001, he began focusing on satirical illustration in 2004. Kuczynski’s work is characterized by its powerful visual metaphors that address pressing global issues, including the war in Ukraine, poverty, overconsumption, and social inequalities. Using universally understood symbols, he creates thought-provoking illustrations that resonate across cultural boundaries. His ability to “see through” the world and present complex topics in simple yet profound images has earned him over 140 awards, including the prestigious “Eryk” prize in 2005. Kuczynski’s art serves as a mirror to society, challenging viewers to confront uncomfortable truths about the modern world and inspiring critical reflection on the human condition.
Польський художник Павел Кучинський https://www.prof-osvita.org.ua/dumky-vholos/1430-polskyi-khudozhnyk-pavel-kuchynskyi
Павел Кучинський — художник, який бачить світ наскрізь Джерело: CREDO: https://credo.pro/2019/01/228794
“Хвороби” сучасного суспільства в чесних ілюстраціях польського художника https://vsviti.com.ua/blog/111759
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