
Portraits of Resilience
Stories of Ukraine’s Young Refugee Artists
In 2024, while on vacation in Prague with my family, I was introduced to a young dancer from Ukraine named Regina. She was 17, a refugee from the war in Ukraine. At the onset of the Russian invasion, she and her mom had faced death every day, as shells hit every 20 minutes, completely destroying her city. They fled to a different city in Ukraine, and later moved to the Czech Republic, where she lived in communal refugee housing in the city of Brno.
Upon returning home, I couldn’t stop thinking about Regina. I began to consider how I could tell her story – and the story of thousands of displaced youth like her.
In my research, I discovered that Czechia had received nearly 390,000 Ukrainian refugees; among them, more than 110,000 are between the ages of 10 and 24. I found that number staggering – and heartbreaking. I learned that in addition to processing their own displacement and trauma, they frequently face prejudice and discrimination, all while trying to learn a new language and culture, continue their studies, and seek to build a future for themselves.
Not only this, but many wake up each morning to news feeds filled with images of the latest destruction, checking to see if their families or villages back home have survived another night of missile and drone attacks. Others wake in the night, remembering what life was like under fire. As Kateryna, one of the girls I photographed, said, “At the age of 17, no one should have to accept the possibility of her death in a couple of seconds from a Russian missile.”
When I approached this project of photographing Ukrainian teen refugees, I expected mostly to hear stories of heartache and loss. While everyone has stories like this, what I found was that rather than focusing on the dark part of their lives, these youth are focused on the present and the future. Few want to be thought of as ‘refugees’. While there is underlying sadness and loss, most of the stories I heard were about working hard, making the most of the opportunities in front of them, and working toward a future that they desire. This, of course, includes a future of peace in Ukraine. But it also includes goals like becoming world-champion ballroom dancers, or completing masters degrees, or finding a profession – like photography – that they love.
"Ukrainians are very expressive. After leaving Ukraine due to the war, many youth felt lost and depressed without the arts,” says Oksana Dolga, a Ukrainian living in Prague for many years. “But when they were able to find a way to make art again – to have self-expression – it brought them back to life, improved their mental health, and brought a sense of normality to an abnormal situation."
This project focuses on telling the stories of displaced Ukrainian youth who have made creativity part of their lives. We worked with dancers, writers, poets, clothing designers, jugglers, photographers, actors, painters, illustrators, teachers, martial artists, and more. For most of these young people, having a creative pursuit helped them find comfort and purpose in the midst of chaos. For some, their creative pursuit gave them a way to make Czech friends, and helped them integrate. For others like Denys and Kateryna, their art form has been a means to connect Ukrainians and Czechs through storytelling and theater. For Valerii and Anastasia, the competition of speedcubing or ballroom dance has given them something positive to focus on and work hard at. For Hanna, music has been a way to build community and create respite for other refugees. For Regina, dance is a way to deal with her fears, and to inspire others.
I could go on and on. After interviewing and photographing over 40 Ukrainian youth, my admiration for their tenacity and resilience is immense. I am inspired, and I hope you will be too. Now, I’ll let these incredible young people share their own stories….
A quick note before you read the stories:
This page is an early introduction to the project Portraits of Resilience. We’re still editing the 40 portraits and stories we created in September, but what follows offers a glimpse into what we’re creating. We hope you’ll join us in helping share these powerful and important stories with the world.
“No one should have to accept–at the age of 17–the possibility of her death in a couple of seconds from a Russian missile.”
I have warm memories of how I went out to the fields with my friends. It was incredible, the plants changed from year to year: sometimes sunflowers, then wheat. The feeling of the wind on my face, the sun and grass – this is the picture of Slobozhanshchyna, the northeast region of Ukraine, on the Russian border, where I am from. This is the flag of Ukraine before your eyes.
Right before the full-scale invasion began, I didn't believe it was even possible. I turned 17 on February 11, and I could not imagine that the Russians would start killing our people.
Since then, my February has lasted more than one thousand three hundred days.
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No one should have to accept–at the age of 17–the possibility of her death in a couple of seconds from a Russian missile. After several nights under shelling, we decided to go to the Czech Republic, to my uncle and mother, who already lived here. We hastily packed our things into a backpack and 2 bags, and left. I've taken pictures of everything in my life, but I didn't take pictures of my house when I left. I didn't want to remember it so gray and tired.
After a very difficult year and a half of adaptation in Czechia, I was finally able to make art again. I was also able to enter the Kharkiv State Academy of Design and Arts with a scholarship! Later, I found a company of Ukrainian students here in Brno, and for the first time in a year and a half I was not alone.
My art is colorful and multifaceted, like myself. I take photos, make collages, shoot videos, edit, do make-up, write texts and poems, and weave silyanka (traditional Ukrainian jewelry).
I am most proud of my photo project “I Dreamed of a House Again.” I’ve also been very involved in the theater production "Until the War Ends,” where I have been a director, screenwriter, sound engineer, make-up artist, set designer, actress, and more. In this project we help Czechs and others understand what it’s like to be us – to be Ukrainians living in a foreign country because of war.
~Kataryna Yaroshenko (“Makovka”), 20
“I am ready to help anyone who wants to grow.”
I came to Plzeň, Czechia when I was 19, with my mother, younger brother, and my daughter, who was only 7 months old, knowing I didn’t plan to return to Ukraine.
I play the bandura, a traditional Ukrainian instrument, and from the start, I began exploring ways to use this skill creatively. I connected with many people in Plzeň who were supportive of my ideas, which inspired me to establish a volunteer organization where children and adults can take music classes, and to start a musical group that has performed at various concerts.
Over time, I became well-known among Ukrainian artists in Plzeň. Today I am the one being invited to perform at concerts and festivities, not the other way around, which is kind of cool.
I am especially proud of my new project, “Woman’s Voice.” It creates a space where moms can make time for themselves to explore and develop their creativity through drawing, playing, teaching, yoga, or sports, while their children do the same in separate groups.
I may be young and a refugee, but I refuse to sit idle. I am determined to follow my dreams and to speak up. I am ready to help anyone who wants to grow.
I want to be heard, seen, and counted – and I believe everyone should have that chance.
~Hanna Bodnar, 21
“Practicing, practicing, practicing.”
Back in Ukraine I lived a very active life. I studied in the Eureka math club, participated in math Olympiads, played competitive tennis, and swam.
Leaving my country was the hardest thing I have ever done – saying goodbye to all my friends and my grandparents.
After coming to Czechia, I felt lonely and faced the challenge of adapting to a new culture and language. I didn’t have anything to do, until I remembered my Rubik’s cube; I picked it up and began practicing all day long. Practicing, practicing, practicing. Between speedcubing, and my family’s support, and joining local Ukrainian groups and events, I began to adapt to the Czech Republic and my new life here.
Today I compete internationally in Speedcubing, winning 3rd place in Prague and in Nové Město nad Váhom in 2024, and 2nd place in Košariská and Ivanka při Dunaji, in 2025. I also play guitar and sing. All this has given me back my sense of wholeness, and the feeling of being once again a part of society.
I have come to understand that even though there is a war in my country, life goes on, and so must I. My path is to grow, and to show the world that Ukrainians are a strong, intelligent, and creative nation.
~Valerii Klymenko, 15
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Support Us
This project is self-funded by Fritz and a few friends. If you would like to support this project, including the costs of creating the work and sharing it with the world, you can easily and securely donate on GoFundMe:
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About Us
Read about Fritz, and our amazing team in Prague working tirelessly to bring this project to life:
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Portraits of Resilience on Insta
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About Fritz Liedtke:
Fritz began photographing when he was a teen, and art has played a profound part in his life. His personal and professional photography have been widely published in places like National Geographic, and shown in galleries and collected by museums and collectors around the world. His work aims to tell the quiet human stories that often go unheard, with sensitivity and compassion.
See his professional work here, and his fine art projects here.
About our Team:
This project would never have left the ground without the faith and determination of 4 women who tirelessly volunteered – and continue to volunteer – their time and passion to make this project come to life: Martina Klimova (with whom I went to art school many years ago, and who didn’t think my initial idea for this project was too crazy), Oksana Dolga (whose passion and compassion for youth and community-building knows no bounds), Tanya Sushko (who found and coordinated over 60 youth, and assisted me daily, often without sleep), and Andrea Svobodova (an anthropologist passionate about telling the stories of immigrant youth). I could not have asked for a better group of kind-hearted, hard-working, fun-loving Czech and Ukrainian women to work with.