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First anniversary of Sestry: a year of discoveries

Nearly 1500 stories - human destinies, confessions, achievements - have been published at Sestry.eu during our first year. Each story is special. Each hero and heroine of our stories is unique. Each author is astonishing. For some, the number 1500 is just a number, but for us - it is the whole universe. And we are grateful to everyone who has become part of our small but powerful story

Sestry

Sestry Publishing Team

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On this special day, our editors and authors wrote a couple of words about their work at Sestry, about their heroes, their emotions - about everything that became so important during this year of working in the media.

Joanna Mosiej-Sitek, CEO of Sestry

Our year on the frontline in the fight for truth. We are a community of women. Women journalists. Women editors. Our strength is our voice. We stand for shared European values, democracy and peace. We are the voice of all those who, like us, believe that the future lies in dialogue, tolerance and respect for human rights. These people believe in a world where we can forgive past grievances and focus our energy on building a better future. They are not divided by the words of politicians. Every day, we do everything possible to listen to and understand one another, knowing that this is the only way to fight disinformation and fake news. Our voice, our struggle, is just as vital to our security as new tanks and drones. Over the past year, we have given a platform to thousands of stories in our effort to build a better world. We understand that building a strong, multi-ethnic, and united community is a long journey, and we are only at the beginning.

Sestry on the Independence Day of Ukraine. Warsaw, August 24th 2024

Maria Gorska, Editor-in-Chief

When my colleagues at Gazeta Wyborcza and I decided to create Sestry.eu, it was the second winter of the war. My newborn daughter lay in her stroller, wearing a red onesie covered in gingerbread men, and all she knew was how to smile and reach out to her mother. Today, my little Amelia is a strong toddler, running around the park near our home in Warsaw, shouting, «Mom, catch the ball!» and laughing when I lift her into my arms. She comforts her doll when it cries.

She still does not know what Ukraine is. And that is why I am doing this media project. Not to one day tell my child about her homeland, but to ensure that she grows up in an independent, safe, and prosperous Ukraine - as a free citizen of Europe.

Joanna Mosiej-Sitek and Maria Gorska at the presentation of the inaugural «Portraits of Sisterhood» award

Tetiana Bakotska, journalist

The stories we publish in Sestry make an impact - motivating readers to take action. After my article about a refugee shelter in Olsztyn that had been closed, leaving some Ukrainian families in dire straits, five Ukrainian families reached out to say they had received help. Single mothers raising young children were given food, clothing and fully stocked backpacks for school.

Thanks to the article «Sails Save Lives» and the efforts of Piotr Paliński, hundreds of meters of sails were collected in Poland to be sewn into stretchers for wounded soldiers. On August 24th 2024, Olsztyn scout Dorota Limontas delivered the sails to Kyiv as part of a humanitarian convoy, along with medical equipment for several Kyiv hospitals, donated by the Voivodeship Adult and Children’s Hospitals in Olsztyn.

After the publication about the humble mechanic, Mr. Piotr, who in 2022 donated over 500 bicycles to Ukrainian children, the initiative gained new momentum. Once again, hundreds of children - not only in Olsztyn but in other regions of Poland as well - received bicycles as gifts. Bicycles were also sent to Ukraine for orphaned children cared for by the family of Tetiana Paliychuk, whose story we also shared.

Nataliya Zhukovska, journalist

For me, Sestry became a lifeline that supported me during a challenging moment. The full-scale war, moving to another country, adapting to a new life - this is what millions of Ukrainian women faced as they fled from the war, leaving their homes behind. I was fortunate to continue doing what I love in Poland - journalism. Even more so, I was fortunate to engage with people who, through their actions, are writing the modern history of Ukraine - volunteers, soldiers, combat medics and civil activists.

I remember each of the heroes from my stories. I could endlessly recount their lives. One might think that a journalist, after recording an interview and publishing an article, could simply move on. That is how it was for over 20 years of my work in television. The subjects of news stories were quickly forgotten. But this time, it is different. Even after my conversations with these heroes, I keep following their lives through social media. Though we have only met online, many of them have become my friends. Reflecting on the past year, I can only thank fate for the opportunity to share the stories of these incredible, strong-spirited Ukrainians with the world.

Journalists of Sestry

Aleksandra Klich, editor

When we began forming the Sestry editorial team a year ago, I felt that it was a special moment. Media like this are truly needed. In a world ravaged by war, overwhelmed by new technologies and crises, where information, images, and emotions bombard us from all sides, we seek order and meaning. We search for a niche that offers a sense of safety, space for deep reflection, and a place where one can simply cry. That is what Sestry is - a new kind of media, a bridge from Ukraine to the European Union.

Working with my Ukrainian colleagues has restored my faith in journalism. It has rekindled in me the belief that media should not just be click factories or arenas of conflict, but a source of knowledge, truth - however painful - and genuine emotions, which we can allow ourselves to experience in the hardest moments. Thanks to my work with Sestry and the daily focus on Ukraine, the most important questions have come alive within me: «What does patriotism mean today? What does it mean to be a European citizen? What does responsibility mean? What can I do - every day, constantly - to help save the world? And finally: Where am I from? For what purpose? Where am I headed?» These questions do not leave a person at peace when they stand on the edge. We create media in a world that is on the edge. The women of Ukraine, their experiences and struggles, remind me of this every day.

Mariya Syrchyna, editor

Over our first year, our readership has grown steadily - numbers show that our audience has increased 8-10 times compared to last year. This growth is because Sestry is no ordinary publication. Most of us journalists live in other countries due to the war, but from each of these countries, we write about what pains us the most. About Ukraine and its resilient people. About what hinders our victory over the enemy - hoping to reach those with the power to help. About the challenges we face in our new homes and how we overcome them. About our children.

We strive to talk to people who inspire and bring light in these dark times - volunteers, artists, doctors, athletes, psychologists, activists, teachers, journalists. But most importantly, we tell the stories of our warriors. I once dreamed that Ukraine’s elite would change and that the country’s fate would be shaped by worthy people. That wish has come true - though in a cruel way. The new heroes of our time are the soldiers who nobly bear the weight of the fight against both the enemy and the world’s indifference. Here, at Sestry, we tell their stories again and again to everyone who has access to the internet and a heart. In three languages. We hope that these stories will ensure their names are not forgotten and their deeds are not distorted.

A sister is someone who can be anywhere in the world but still feels close. She may annoy you, but if someone offends her, you are the first to defend her and offer a hand. That is exactly the kind of publication Sestry aspires to be - reliable and close. All the way to victory, and beyond.

Presentation of the inaugural «Portraits of Sisterhood» award

Maryna Stepanenko, journalist

I have been with Sestry for nine months. In that time, I have conducted 22 powerful interviews with people I once only dreamed of speaking to in person. Politicians, generals, commanders and even the deadliest U.S. Air Force pilot. Getting in touch with him was a challenge - no online contacts, except for his publisher. There was also a fan page for Dan Hampton on Facebook. As it turns out, he manages that page himself and is quite responsive to messages.

It took me two months of persistent outreach to secure an interview with Kurt Volker, but I eventually succeeded. And my pride - Ben Hodges, whose contacts were once obtained under strict confidentiality.

In these nine months, I have learned a few key lessons: do not be afraid to ask for an interview with someone you admire, and when choosing between talking to a Ukrainian celebrity or a foreign general, always opt for the general. I am grateful to be the bridge between their expert opinions and our readers.

Kateryna Tryfonenko, journalist

«Why did you ask me that?». This is one of those funny memorable occurrences. I was working on an article about military recruitment, with part of the piece focused on international experience. One of the experts I spoke with was an American specialist from a military recruitment center. I made sure to tell him upfront that the questions would be very basic, as our readers are not familiar with the intricacies of the United States military system. He had no objections. We recorded the interview, and a few days later, I received a message from him that began, «I am still very puzzled by our conversation. I keep thinking about the questions you asked me. Why did you ask me that?». The message was long, and between the lines, it almost read «Are you a spy?». This was a first for me. To avoid causing him further distress, I offered to remove his comments from the article if our conversation had unsettled him that much. However, he did not object to the publication in the end. Although I wonder if, to this day, he still thinks it was not all just a coincidence.

Nataliya Ryaba, editor

I am free. These three words perfectly describe my work at Sestry. I am free to do what I love and what I do best. Free from restrictions: our editorial team is a collective of like-minded individuals where everyone trusts each other, and no one forbids experimenting, trying new things, learning, and bringing those ideas to life. I am free from stereotypes. Our multinational team has shown that nationality and historical disputes between our peoples do not matter - we are united, working toward the common goal of Ukraine’s victory and the victory of the democratic world. I am free to be who I want to be in our newsroom. Yes, I work as an editor, but I can grab my camera and run as a reporter to protests or polling stations - wherever I want to go. No one forbids me from creating what I want, and I am grateful for this freedom. It gives me wings.

A journalist from Sestry at a polling station with the future Prime Minister of Poland

Anastasiya Kanarska, journalist

Like many women, I always thought I wanted to have a son. Well, maybe two kids, but one of them had to be a boy. But as my understanding of myself and the world grew, and the likelihood of not having children at all increased, the idea of being a good mother to a happy, self-sufficient daughter became an exciting challenge. Learning from each other, respecting personal boundaries, and caring for one another - that is what makes working in a women’s circle so empowering. For me, starting work with Sestry coincided with a deeper exploration of my female lineage - strong women like my colleagues, who at times embody Demeter, Persephone, Hera, Aphrodite, Artemis, or Hestia. The themes of my articles, whether written, edited, or translated by me, often mirror my own life events or thoughts. Maybe that is the magic of the sisterhood circle.

Olena Klepa, SMM specialist

«I feel needed here». I went to my first interview with Sestry three months before the official launch of the project: in old DIY shorts, a T-shirt from a humanitarian aid center, with a «dandelion» hairstyle and seven years of TV experience. I was not looking for a job. I was content working as a security guard at a construction site, always learning, taking free online training. But for some reason, all my supervisors kept asking: «Have you found something for yourself yet? Any interesting opportunities?» They would tell me I did not belong there and was meant for something greater.

Sestry found me. So, when I first went to the meeting, I decided, «All or nothing». It was not a typical interview. It was a meeting of people with similar values and a shared goal. We spoke different languages but understood each other instantly. The plans were ambitious and, at first glance, unrealistic. They needed a social media manager. The responsibility scared me, but I never say «I can't» until I try. Experience has shown that you can learn anything. At Sestry, I feel needed. I feel like I have room to grow. I love that I can combine all my accumulated experience here, that I can experiment. But most importantly, I no longer feel guilty. My country is at war. The enemy is not only on the frontlines. Russian propaganda has extended its tentacles far beyond its borders. By creating social media content, telling stories about Ukrainians on the frontlines to people in Poland, and showing Ukrainians that Poles «have not grown tired of the war», I am helping Ukraine hold its ground in the information space.

Our journalists document all important events

Beata Łyżwa-Sokół, photo editor

Many years ago, a photo editor colleague considered changing jobs and trying her luck abroad. However, one editor strongly advised her against it: «You will never be as recognised in a newsroom in New York or London as you are at home. You will never reach the same level of language proficiency as your native-speaking colleagues. At best, you will be an assistant to the head photo editor. In a foreign newsroom, you will always be a foreigner». She listened and stayed in the country, despite having studied English at university and being fluent enough that language would not have been a barrier. A few years later, she left the profession altogether, deciding that journalism no longer had a place for her - that it simply did not exist anymore.

Since then, the media landscape has changed drastically. Many believe that in the age of social media, journalism is no longer necessary. The world is evolving, and so are the media. However, I never stopped believing in its importance. I did not run away from journalism; instead, I sought a new place for myself. That is how I found Sestry, where I met editors and journalists who had come to Poland from war-torn Ukraine. After a year of working together, I know that we are very similar in many ways, but also differ in others. We listen to each other, argue, go to exhibitions together, and share a bottle of wine from time to time.

When I started working at Sestry, and we were discussing what kind of photographs should illustrate the site with our editor-in-chief, Mariya Gorska, I heard her say, «This is your garden». It was one of many fantastic phrases I heard during the months of working together - words that shaped our professional and personal relationships. In an era of fake news, bots and media crises, it was particularly important to me, as the photo editor of Sestry, to consider how we tell the story of what is happening in Ukraine through photography. I observe the media around the world, and thanks to the editors on our site, I notice that these images are often superficial, not based on direct testimony or experience, and rely on stereotypes.

For me, direct contact with Ukrainian journalists and editors is invaluable in my daily work. I am convinced that journalism projects based on such collaboration represent an opportunity for the media of the future. They are a guarantee of reliability and effectiveness in places where people’s lives are at stake, even in the most remote corners of the world.

In Kathryn Bigelow’s film «Zero Dark Thirty», there is a scene where the protagonist, a CIA agent responsible for capturing Osama bin Laden, faces a group of Navy SEALs participating in the operation. One of them, sceptical about the success of the mission (particularly because it is being led by a woman), asks his colleagues: «Why do you trust her? Why should I trust her?». Another replies: «Because she knows what she is doing». That is exactly how I feel working at Sestry. I work with editors and journalists from Ukraine who know what they are doing and why - and I feel incredibly comfortable because of that.

The power of Sestry is in unity
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On August 25, the President of Poland announced a veto of the government bill that was meant to regulate protection and support for families fleeing the war. This decision, and the language that accompanied it – promises to make aid for children conditional on their parent’s employment, prolonging the path to citizenship, reigniting historical disputes – is not a matter of mood, but of cold political calculation.

It strikes at Ukrainian refugee women, at their children, at the elderly and the sick; it also strikes at our schools, doctors, and local governments. Instead of certainty, it brings fear; instead of calm, it threatens family separations, secondary migration, and the erosion of trust in the Polish state.

Imagine that you are the ones at war defending your homeland – and a neighboring country treats your wives, mothers, and daughters as hostages of politics.

After the President’s decision, thousands of homes across Poland were filled with shock, bitterness, and a sense of betrayal. Mothers who fled with children and sick parents from cities and villages turned to rubble now ask themselves: where are we supposed to flee next? Women who chose Poland out of love and trust now feel that this love has not been reciprocated.

A child is not a lifeless entry in a statute, and the aid granted to that child cannot be used as leverage against their mother. Solidarity is not seasonal, it is not a trend. If it is true in March, it must also be true in August. Memory is not a cudgel. A state that, instead of healing the wounds of history, reaches for easy symbols does not build community. A state cannot be a street theater. A serious state chooses responsibility, not political spectacle: procedures, clear communication, protection of the most vulnerable.

We, Polish women – mothers, wives, daughters, sisters, and grandmothers – say it plainly: no one has the right to impose conditions, in our name, on women fleeing war. We will not accept the pain and suffering of people in need of our support being turned into fuel for political disputes. We will not allow the destruction of the trust on which community stands. This is a matter of national interest and of our common conscience. It is bridges – not walls – that turn neighbors into allies, and it is predictable and just law, together with the language of respect, that strengthens Poland’s security more than populist shouting from the podium.

Europe – and therefore we as well – has committed to continuity of protection for civilians fleeing aggression. It is our duty to keep that word. This means one thing: to confirm publicly, clearly, and without ambiguity that the families who trusted Poland will not wake up tomorrow in a legal vacuum; that no child will be punished because their parent does not have employment; that the language of power will not divide people into “ours” and “others.” For a child and their single mother, the law must be a shield, not a tool of coercion into loyalty and obedience. Politics must be service, not spectacle.

We call on you, who make the law and represent the Republic, to restore certainty of protection and to reject words that stigmatize instead of protect. Let the law serve people, not political games. Let Poland remain a home where a mother does not have to ask: “Where to now?” – because the answer will always be: “Stay in a country that keeps its word.”

This is not a dispute over legal technicalities. It is a question of the face of the Republic. Will it be a state of the word that is kept – or a state of words thrown to the wind? Will we stand on the side of mothers and children – or on the side of fear?

Signed:
Polish women – mothers, wives, daughters, sisters, grandmothers.

As of today, the letter has been endorsed by over two thousand women from across Poland — among them three former First Ladies of the Republic of Poland, Nobel Prize laureate Olga Tokarczuk, and internationally acclaimed filmmaker Agnieszka Holland. Their voices stand alongside those of hundreds of other women — mothers, daughters, sisters, grandmothers — who have chosen to sign as a gesture of solidarity and moral responsibility.

The full list of signatories is available at the link below:

https://docs.google.com/document/d/135yP6XadgyRJmECLyIaxQTHcOyjOVy9Y4mgFP9klzIM/edit?tab=t.0

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Letter of protest of Polish women to the Prime Minister, the Sejm, the Senate and the President of the Republic of Poland

Sestry

Melania Krych: What is this Zryw [eng. Surge]  all about?

Julia Wojciechowska: We’re the generation that, at the time of the government transition in 2015, was still in our teens. Our coming of age was marked by constant political debate — at home, at school, on the streets. And it was a debate that neither included us nor spoke to us. But times have changed.

Agnieszka Gryz: Do you know the playbook for apathy? When the key political events unfold right under your nose, shaping your tomorrow, and yet you can neither cast a vote nor even raise your voice. Zryw didn’t begin the day we registered the Foundation — it began, piece by piece, within each of us, years ago.

JW: And yes, now we run a Foundation. We’re not selling a cat in a bag: we are political, but we are not partisan. We want to build the next generation of state leaders. We’ve just finished recruitment for our first zryw, a four-day public leadership retreat in the Tatra mountains.  

Why public servants? Don’t we have enough of those?

JW: The bench is short and not very attractive. We have experts, and we have politicians. The experts have spent the last eight years climbing corporate ladders or building Euro-careers in Brussels; they have families to support. And suddenly they’re supposed to destabilize their lives to take a ministry job for a quarter of the salary?
Meanwhile, there are plenty of young people who can and want to step in but no one is inviting them. And what’s more, when they knock on the door themselves, no one cares to open it.

AG: Right now, the most reliable “pipeline” into public service is through party youth wings. Those are often comprised of people who, from a very young age, have been focused solely on securing a particular seat. And once they’re in it, they don’t want to leave. What would their alternative be? And while not all youth wings are the same, the young people we’ve met often had neither vision nor their own ideas, only the party line that raised them.

That’s not the kind of public service we want Zryw to represent. Our diagnosis isn’t about a lack of knowledge or experience. What’s missing are people willing to make decisions and take responsibility for them; to risk and bear the consequences. State leaders, not mouthpieces of the party. I still remember being deeply struck by the words of Bartłomiej Sienkiewicz, then a minister. Asked about the stability of his profession, he replied that his coat always hung on the back of his chair: “I am a public servant and a politician, and I must always be ready… at any moment. If I have to leave, I take my coat and I go.” We want to fear neither stepping in nor out.

Who applied to the first Zryw? Who did you select?

AG: The range was incredible. From doctors and engineers to political science students and civil servants. We received applications from 149 towns across all 16 Polish regions, plus 12 cities abroad. The final group is eclectic in the best way: a trainee fighter jet pilot, a former health expert abroad, aspiring local government leader.

“Zryw” during introductory conversations. Photo: private archive

JW: But only 35% of applications came from women. However, among those invited for interviews, women made up half,  because the candidates who did apply, were incredibly strong. That’s a slightly higher ratio than the proportion of women in our parliament. It shows that the imbalance of opportunities starts much earlier.

This won’t fix itself, but our group speaks for itself: neither Zryw nor Poland has a shortage of capable, ambitious women.

Right, I’ll tell you an anecdote. We recently received a lengthy comment on a blog post ["Our Favorite Elections: Who's Joining the September Zryw?" - Ed.], in which we mentioned the deficit of female applicants. Someone criticized us for “making up inequality,” since recruitment was open to everyone, they argued. “Anyone could click the link.” They claimed that bringing up such stats could discourage young men from public service because nowadays, any and all gender differences are painted as discrimination.

And how did you take that comment?

AG: Honestly, I was glad! Someone took the time to write out their thoughts. Polemic is a valuable legacy of Polish public life, and it’s an honor to partake in and to foster it. Of course, I disagreed with the arguments themselves, because discrimination and systemic inequality are not the same thing.

JW: In a nutshell, discrimination means unequal treatment or neglect. It would apply if one group had been treated preferentially. Then you could say the others were discriminated against. But we had no preferences. What we did consider were the ground realities of Poland’s education system and cultural patterns that shape what people feel is possible for them. And in Poland, that burden falls especially on young women, who are often brought up according to a different set of values. As girls, we’re taught to be polite, to obey. Boys will be boys: they get a pass to mess around, to take risks. And that carries over into adult life, including our careers.

AG: Equality doesn’t always mean equal opportunity. Leveling the playing field requires special attention to the needs shaped by years of conforming to social and cultural norms. And often, forms of exclusion that aren’t necessarily written into law but affect people’s lives nonetheless. Going forward, we pledge to ensure that women not only get access, but also an actual encouragement to apply.

JW: Many of us in Zryw studied abroad, which makes the contrast all the more striking. I was in England, where class divides are the bigger issue. But after returning to Poland, I’ve spoken with countless young women who face a powerful mental barrier—they doubt their own abilities and potential. And yet, so often, they have far greater knowledge and social awareness than many of the men I meet who are already part of the state apparatus.

As a Foundation, we can’t overlook this—when we see inequality, we take it into account.

How did Zryw come about?

AG: It all started with sleeping on mattresses. The year was 2023, a parliamentary election year — time to rise to the challenge. A dozen or so of us came together to build a campaign for Parliament from scratch. We barely knew each other. For several months, our candidate’s apartment turned into a kind of “transfer station”: it began with five people, by the end, there were fifteen, and many more passed through along the way. That group of fifteen became the core on which we built Zryw. Because we discovered something important — not only could we survive living on top of each other in one small flat, but we could actually make things happen together.

JW: It all started through word of mouth. In ’23 we were acting on our own initiative, and the news spread: to friends, and then to friends of friends. Take me and Aga, for example. We only knew each other from afar, and only virtually. Back during Covid, we happened to organize student conferences at the same time. Every now and then, we’d catch a glimpse of each other on Zoom or on social media. Then the parliamentary election came.

AG: That’s right. I asked if I could join the campaign; I texted Julia on Instagram, I had seen her repost something relating to our candidate. The timing was right, the whole thing was only getting started. After the successful election campaign, we wanted to harness that energy and channel it toward something. We realized there was no point in waiting for a window of opportunity, and we had to open it ourselves. That’s why we created Zryw: to capture that national surge of energy, give it shape, and direct it where it’s needed most.

From left to right: Agnieszka Gryz, Alicja Dryja, Alicja Kępka, Agnieszka Homańska. Photo: private archive

So, where is it needed most?

JW: Over the past two years, we’ve seen how much absurdity and inertia you run into when working in ministries. Take salaries, for example—some of them, quite frankly, make it impossible to live in the capital. 3,200 zł net? That’s an extreme case, but a real one. And many people in Zryw know this firsthand. They came back from abroad, wanting to work for the state, and were willing to accept those conditions because they had a vision. Some managed to endure, while others left—whether due to financial strain or a lack of room to grow.

AG: We believe that a qualitative generational shift in Poland’s public service is possible from within. For systemic change to take hold, you need to sow it in many places at once—because, in the end, the state needs capable people in both offices and the legislative process. But it’s also about showing that there are people worth making that change for.

We don’t want to open a showroom where all you can do is admire a luxury car from the outside. Zryw should be a garage, a place where you can actually get under the hood of your own car. We’ll give you the workshop, the tools, and access to great mechanics. And then it’s time to hit the road—with our support and community alongside you.

Who do you work with?

JW: Last year, we were the only organization from Poland accepted into the accelerator run by the Apolitical Foundation, which supports what they call political entrepreneurs. And despite the name, it’s not about businesspeople, but rather about those who create new models of civic and political engagement.

We’re also supported by, among others, the EFC Foundation, founded in memory of Roman Czernecki — a social innovator and educator. At Zryw, we believe that democracy requires not only institutions, but above all people: competent, empathetic and ready to act. In this sense, our mission and projects align deeply with EFC’s vision of building a strong democratic community.

AG: Among our allies is also the Mentors4Starters Foundation. From them, we’re learning how to build meaningful mentor–mentee relationships that truly benefit both sides. Maria Belka and Zofia Kłudka bring a wealth of practical knowledge and an equal willingness to share it with us.

How do you imagine the future of Zryw?

JW: Our mission is to find capable, driven people, encourage them either to stay in Poland or to come back, and equip them with the tools and knowledge they need to be effective in public service.

AG: While our zrywy [eng. surges]—the lowercase ones, meaning our short multi-day gatherings—are largely aimed at students who study in Poland and see their future here, we also see ourselves as a kind of “repatriation hub.” When you go abroad for your studies, you find countless networks and support systems that help you adapt to a new place. We believe Poland needs a similar network, but for those considering a return.

JW: Exactly. A Pole abroad is rarely alone. But a Pole returning after studies is a different story. For a long time, such a decision carried the stigma of disappointment or even failure. Nonsense! Poland is beautiful, innovative, and above all, it’s home. This is where we feel purpose, and this is where we see our future. And we want the privilege we had—finding each other in 2023, and being able to start working together—to be available to many more people. Because in the end, you need both something and someone to come back to. The flight home is just one plane ticket, but the decision to board it isn’t so simple. We want to show, in very concrete terms, that the return is worth it, and that it opens up incredible opportunities.

20
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Zryw - A New Poland

Melania Krych

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