Dity
“Dity” means “children” in Ukrainian. This project began when my world changed... In March 2022, I fled Ukraine with my 13-year-old daughter and my little niece, who was barely two. We found safety in the U.S., living with relatives — three families, six girls, three generations under one roof. It was loud, crowded, and sometimes funny, but most days it was just hard. We were safe, but our hearts were somewhere else. I started taking portraits of my daughter and niece to hold on to time, to see what was happening to us. The youngest one refused to smile at first — she looked serious and far away, as if she understood more than a child should. My daughter stopped smiling too. I was so deep in grief and confusion that I almost missed how she changed — how she grew from a girl into a young woman while I was trying to process the loss of home. These portraits are not about perfect poses or pretty light. They are about what we lived through: the silence, the protest, the small moments of love that kept us together. They show the connection between two cousins who supported each other through everything — a toddler and a teenager finding comfort in each other’s presence when everything else felt uncertain. Sometimes I see the pain in their faces. Sometimes I see strength. Always I see love. This series is my way to understand how war reaches even the smallest hearts, and how children carry both the sadness and the hope of their families. Through these portraits, I want to share not only what we lost, but what we found — closeness, patience, the beauty of still being here.
