Originally published in the Boston Pilot.
WEST ROXBURY -- "It was all chill" in the weeks before the war.
When Russia invaded Ukraine, Maksym Lebedenko was 14, or 15 -- he can't quite recall. Growing up in Odesa, a port city of 1 million people on the Black Sea, his father worked as a sailor on cargo ships, and his mother worked for the Odesa National University of Technology. Maksym spent his free time gaming, listening to music, and taking walks by the sea, dreaming of working on a ship like his father. Perhaps he could even be a captain someday. Then the bombs fell. One detonated mere kilometers from Maksym's home. The city he loved, the parks he used to play in, were being destroyed before his eyes.
"My mom was like, 'Yeah, now we're moving,'" he recalled.
As tensions between Russia and Ukraine ratcheted up in early 2022, popular opinion was that the war, if it came to that, would be a brief one. Things would be back to normal by May. The streets would be filled with revelers celebrating that month's cultural festivals.
The war has now bled into its fifth year.
"It sucks," Maksym said. "It's four years of constant threat."
Odesa devolved into chaos. Its residents fled to bordering nations. The Lebedenkos came to the U.S. with the help of an aunt who lived in Boston. She helped enroll Maksym in Catholic Memorial High School in West Roxbury, where he is now a senior. Growing up watching Hollywood movies about high school, he scoffed at them as unrealistic. Now that he's been inside a real U.S. high school, he's surprised at how accurate those films were. He's a typical teenager, with a love of video games and an after-school job at Whole Foods (though he said it pales in comparison to Silpo, a Ukrainian supermarket chain with exotic décor). While dealing with all the challenges of an ordinary adolescence, he must bear witness to the devastation of his homeland thousands of miles away.
"That's everything in my environment that I've been to as a child," he said. "I guess I don't want it destroyed."
He has friends in regions of Ukraine that are currently under Russian occupation. Several of their parents have been killed.
"I absolutely hate it, and I think that people should have more freedom than that, and I feel that people shouldn't be threatened because of their territory of living," he said.
At Catholic Memorial, Maksym takes two AP classes. He was a member of the Speech and Debate Club, the CMTV morning announcements crew, the robotics club, and the short-lived Cyber Sport Club, where he was a competitive gamer.
Principal Michael Corso described Maksym as "incredibly gregarious, very engaged in the life of the school."
Maksym was on the Catholic Memorial swim team for three years and served as its manager this year. He loves swimming because it is "freedom and strictness at the same time."
"You have freedom, because it's just water," he said. "I've been with water and near water all the time in my life."
It reminds him of a saying in Ukraine: "A current will sharpen the stone."
"You should get all the experiences that you have and try to experience it fully," he explained. "If it's a sad experience, if it's a good experience, you have to still experience and have to make lessons from it."
When The Pilot spoke to him on April 28, Maksym came to school wearing a summery button-down shirt with images of leopards printed on it, and a gold chain necklace. Usually, the logo of Korol I Shut, a Russian punk band that's one of his favorites, hangs from the necklace, but it was "a little rusty." During AP Statistics class, he leaned back on his desk and joked around with his classmates, who call him "Maxie" and "Big Dog." He wore three bracelets on his wrist -- one from the robotics club, one from Catholic Memorial's religious retreats, and one that said "I HEART USA."
Back in Ukraine, people talked about the U.S. as if it were paradise. He never imagined that he'd be living there.
"It's much different than people would expect from United States, such a different place," he said. "People never thought of such a diversity here and such a support from people around you, especially coming from a post-USSR country."
Maksym speaks Ukrainian, Russian, English, and Spanish. At school in Ukraine, he was taught British English. On his first day of school at Catholic Memorial in September 2022, U.S. slang and accents were baffling to him. He barely understood his schoolmates -- about 600 of them, from grades seven to 12 -- and was "speechless" for over a year. Participating in extracurricular activities was unthinkable at first. Exposed to video games and music from the U.S., he began to learn more English and make friends.
"Catholic Memorial is a really big school, but the thing I love about it is acceptance of people," he said.
He isn't the only student at Catholic Memorial who was a recent arrival to the U.S.
"The way that they support you is just phenomenal," he said. "It's crazy. And the way the teachers supported me, well, that was incredible, compared to the teachers in Ukraine and Spain."
After escaping Ukraine, Maksym and his parents spent six months in Spain before coming to the U.S. It was Maksym's first time in the country.
"Adjusting to a new environment is always hard," he said. "But I guess every person is supposed to be like a tissue that will eventually suck in all the experience of others and try to make experience on their own."
The war has changed his career ambitions. He plans to attend Stonehill College in Easton to study accounting after he graduates from Catholic Memorial. He's going to miss his friends and teachers, especially Patrick Murray, his swim coach and AP Environmental Science teacher. Although he would love to return to Ukraine someday, he wants to live in the U.S. for as long as he can. He likes the country's freedom and scenery. He can appreciate both sunny and rainy days. He also enjoys grilling, especially shashlik, a skewered meat dish that's popular in the former Soviet Union.
"You just have salt, pepper, some of the vegetables and some tomatoes, and all the juices come in one place in the meat," he said. "And it's just gorgeous."
Like the majority of Ukrainians, Maksym was raised Eastern Orthodox, but he is considering becoming Catholic after learning "the virtues of Catholicism" in school.
"First of all, it was community and service to community," he said, "because that's the first thing I learned, and that's the first thing this school showed me."