Small Home Gazette, Fall 2022
Letter From the Editor: Thinking of Home in the Context of War
I love our little bungalow. It’s a place of comfort and rest, as well as a place of gathering and love. As I’ve read and listened to stories of the war in Ukraine, I’ve wondered how proximity to war would change my sense of home. Perhaps the chaos and destruction of the riots three blocks away on Lake Street following the murder of George Floyd—buildings engulfed in flames; smoke billowing; people acting lawlessly; helicopters circling; a military presence creating conflicting feelings of fear and relief; a neighborhood seemingly destroyed—triggered deep feelings of empathy for the people of Ukraine.
I saw a story of a 70-year-old woman who learned to use an automatic rifle for defense of Kiev, her homeland. Six months have passed. I can still see this warm, vibrant grandmother resolute and unwilling to give up her life’s home. Pete and I could imagine doing the same to defend our home. We discussed what we’d do if war came to Minneapolis. We, who have no guns, would step forward to fight. We talked about what we would be willing to do if our home was at risk.
I find it harder to imagine leaving our home than fighting for it. We’ve invested so much of our time, heart and money into our bungalow. But like so many places in Ukraine, if our neighborhood was shattered by war, we might have to evacuate. I can’t fathom what it would be like to fear permanent loss of hearth and home while holding out hope that, somehow, our bungalow would stand amidst the destruction of war; or to live in limbo, waiting to return to what may or may not remain.
We’ve wondered what life would be like if Canada was attacked. People in Poland, Romania, and other neighboring countries opened their homes to Ukrainian refugees, some, complete strangers. These stories of welcome made me look at our little house differently. Our comfortable home for two—perfectly sized for big American lifestyles with spaces for sleeping, cooking, dining, offices, entertainment and exercise—could be potential living space for more people during a crisis. If war came to Canada, we would drive to the border and hold up a sign saying “Minneapolis. Room for four people.” The rhythm of daily life would change greatly with guests from Ontario or Manitoba, but our bungalow was designed for more than two people. Our space could absorb them.
While our musings of war may seem macabre, they underscore how our little bungalow, our home, provides a sense of grounding and a big sense of place.
Deb and Pete have made donations to support Ukraine, from purchasing fund raiser pierogies at St. Constantine’s Catholic Ukrainian Church, to booking a Kiev AirBnB as a way to provide money directly to a Ukrainian homeowner.