With the onset of russia’s invasion, the number of Ukrainians scattered across North America has grown rapidly. Driven by war, often having lost their homes in their homeland, they adapt quickly to new conditions, build families, create households, form quasi-communities, and seek ways to realize their potential. One of the most pressing challenges in their new country is embracing the values and traditions of the local culture, ensuring their children’s education, mastering the language, and, at the same time, preserving their Ukrainian identity.
Are stability and self-realization mutually exclusive for Ukrainians in the U.S.? Is American education really weaker than Ukrainian education? Why is it important for Ukrainians to integrate but not assimilate in America?
Professor Mykhaylo Vynnytsky shared his thoughtful insights on these questions. A native of Canada, a Cambridge graduate, a longtime leader at Kyiv-Mohyla Academy, a lecturer at UCU, and now Ukraine’s Deputy Minister of Education, Vynnytsky emigrated to Ukraine more than two decades ago. There, he built a remarkable career, established a family, and became one of Ukraine’s most prominent public intellectuals.
L.S. One of Ukraine’s greatest anxieties is the mass emigration that has taken place since the full-scale invasion began. Some believe they will never return, while others are uncertain. What should people focus on?
M.V. I don’t subscribe to the notion that all is lost. Yes, Ukraine’s population has significantly decreased due to the war with russia over the past ten years. But I don’t see this as a tragedy. We are unique as a nation because we have a highly developed diaspora in almost every country. There aren’t many global nations like ours—Jews, Armenians, Chinese… The history of the Ukrainian diaspora in the U.S. spans 140 years, and in Canada, about 130. This is a history of Ukrainian communities that, over multiple generations, have thrived outside Ukraine. What is happening in our country now strengthens Ukrainian communities in other nations. Whether this is good or bad will depend on how the Ukrainian state engages with the diaspora and whether the current wave of Ukrainian emigrants will fortify these communities or assimilate. It is true that Ukrainians are scattered across the globe, but Ukraine would not enjoy the level of international support it has today if we weren’t a global nation. As someone who was born and lived nearly 30 years in Canada, spent four years in England, and over the last 20-plus years in Ukraine, I do not consider emigration to be a great tragedy.
L.S. In Ukraine today, attitudes toward Ukrainians living abroad are mixed.
M.V. I completely understand and do not judge those who are leaving Ukraine right now. Some of them are genuine refugees, while others are economic migrants. For many Ukrainians who grew up in the USSR or during the post-Soviet years, the desire to leave the country was latent, deeply ingrained—just get abroad, and everything will be better there! Over the past two years, this segment of the population has become more active, taking advantage of the opportunities created by the war. I see this as entirely normal. In any society, there is a group of people who seek stability, material comfort, and economic prosperity. The waves of emigration to North America over the past 120 years have largely consisted of such people. This has been primarily economic migration, with the exception of the wave that occurred immediately after World War II.
On the other hand—and here I speak as the descendant of political migrants who fled Soviet repression, not in search of comfort—we must understand that everything comes at a price. My primary motivation for moving to Ukraine was the search for opportunities for self-realization. This may sound strange to some, as I moved from comfortable Canada to the unstable land of my ancestors. Yet I can say with absolute confidence that I would never have achieved what I have in Ukraine had I stayed in Canada. The price of achieving opportunities is the absence of stability. Over 22 years of living in Ukraine, I’ve experienced two revolutions, and now I’m living through a war.
Stability and self-realization are two poles. To draw an analogy: 150-200 years ago, Europeans traveled to North America, where there were conflicts between cowboys and Native Americans—not for stability or economic prosperity, but for self-realization. That territory was the frontier of civilization at the time.
And today, I have no doubt that Ukraine is the frontier of the 21st century. This means we have fantastic opportunities, but they’re not for everyone—because opportunities don’t come without risks. And not everyone is ready to take risks.
Right now, we are witnessing another great migration of Ukrainians—a strengthening of our diaspora with economic migrants and the establishment in Ukraine of those who—some might say—are “reckless,” those who want to realize themselves and leave their mark on history. This is a division. Our shared task is not to forget that both groups are Ukrainians.
I dream of a future where Ukrainians live in America, Canada, Australia, and Argentina, while maintaining a special relationship with their homeland, Ukraine. And here, in Ukraine, we will also hold a special regard for the global Ukrainian diaspora.
L.S. After emigrating to America, a person might feel hopeful about their prospects but also face challenges finding a job in their field since higher education obtained in Ukraine is often undervalued in the U.S. Many Ukrainians end up taking jobs that are considered low-prestige in Ukraine, such as plumbing.
M.V. I hate to disappoint you, but a plumber in Ukraine earns more than a marketer.
L.S. However, in Ukraine, becoming a plumber doesn’t require even a high school education. In America, you need to obtain both an education and certification, while also being responsible for the quality of your work. It’s a completely different approach.
M.V. If it’s so difficult, then come back! Today, Ukraine needs brains—we need people who are willing to work.
L.S. If I may, I’d like to highlight two points here. First, Ukraine faces a serious crisis in vocational education. Second, I’ve noticed that among American youth, there’s a declining interest in pursuing higher education. They seem perfectly capable of earning a living without feeling motivated to attend university.
M.V. The crisis in vocational education is a global issue—it’s not unique to Ukraine. We’re currently living in a transitional period, moving from an industrial society to a post-industrial one worldwide, including in Ukraine. On the one hand, there’s a growing demand for creative professions that require higher education. On the other, this demand has led to a global shortage of skilled tradespeople.
The second point you raised—that young Americans don’t see the value in attending college—is also accurate. Statistically, over the past five years in Ukraine, more than 75% of high school graduates have enrolled in universities. In the U.S., less than 40% of graduates do so—and that has always been the case! Let’s not forget that higher education in the U.S. is expensive. Currently, the Biden administration is making significant efforts to boost the appeal of higher education among young people.
As for the myth that Ukrainian university diplomas aren’t valued in the U.S., that’s not entirely true. Diplomas from institutions like the National University of Kyiv-Mohyla Academy, Taras Shevchenko National University, and the National Technical University of Ukraine “Igor Sikorsky Kyiv Polytechnic Institute” are respected worldwide. For example, my Cambridge degree is also well-regarded. However, when it comes to less prestigious universities, their diplomas—because they are relatively unknown outside their country—do carry less weight. This applies not only to Ukrainian diplomas but also to American ones.
When we talk about American universities, the Ivy League plus Stanford are not representative of the entire U.S. higher education system. Similarly, our top universities aren’t representative of Ukrainian education as a whole. The issue isn’t that our education system is inherently poor. In fact, compared to the U.S., ours is far more affordable and accessible.
L.S. But what about quality?
M.V. In Ukraine, just like in America, there’s a very steep quality pyramid. For example, if you Google "how many universities are in the U.S.?" you’ll find a figure close to 5,000 institutions. The population of the U.S. is about ten times larger than Ukraine’s, so proportionally, we might expect around 500 universities in Ukraine. In reality, we have far fewer. Yet the average Ukrainian would still say we have many universities that are worthless.
Again, every country has a quality pyramid. At the top, there are elite universities, followed by second-tier ones. And just as in the U.S., in Ukraine, there are institutions that call themselves universities but, in fact, simply sell diplomas. At the Ministry of Education, we are currently working to address this issue.
L.S. And judging by recent news, it seems you’re doing quite well…
M.V. Yes. But here’s something I’d like to highlight, as a child of immigrants who came to North America after World War II: I’ve observed many waves of immigrants and remember clearly that among newcomers, there was always a tendency to find fault with Ukraine. To me, this seems like a way to justify their decision to emigrate. This shouldn’t be the case. One must simply understand that as an immigrant, you have to start your career from the lower rungs of the social ladder. My father, for instance, started as a laborer before becoming a professor. Interestingly, when I immigrated to Ukraine, I experienced something similar. I had to prove that my Cambridge degree was equivalent to a Ukrainian candidate of sciences degree.
L.S. Could you elaborate on that?
M.V. When you decide to become an immigrant, you must be prepared to start your life at a lower social level than what you had back home. This adaptation process can take up to ten years. If you’re not ready for this, my dear now-fellow countrymen, then return! Ukraine is waiting for you! If you’ve decided you want to stay in the United States and build your life there, don’t complain that Ukraine didn’t give you something. Every one of us makes our own choices, and we must take responsibility for them.
L.S. Do you know of many examples of people from the U.S. or Canada moving to Ukraine for permanent residence?
M.V. Yes! At one point, together with my students at Mohyla Academy, I conducted a study on the phenomenon of “Diaspora Ukrainians Living in Ukraine.” At the time, we counted about 540 people who were born in the diaspora, grew up outside Ukraine, and moved to live permanently in their ancestral homeland. Some of them, like myself, Ulyana Suprun, and Natalie Jaresko, even obtained Ukrainian citizenship. While such examples aren’t as numerous as one might wish, Ukraine’s strict citizenship requirements are a significant factor—not everyone is ready to meet them. But, as I’ve said before, it’s an obvious reality: in any society, there are always more people seeking stability and fewer pursuing self-realization. That’s just normal statistics. For comparison, there are always fewer entrepreneurs than employees in any community.
When I first arrived in Ukraine, I wasn’t immediately accepted as a “true” Ukrainian. At some point during conversations, the question would inevitably arise: “Mykhaylo, what passport do you have?” Back then, in Ukraine, national identity was closely tied to one’s passport. Even if someone spoke russian, they were still considered more Ukrainian than a non-citizen with perfect Ukrainian. Perhaps this societal perception of my citizenship motivated me to obtain a Ukrainian passport.
Growing up in Canada, I was raised with the belief that once the Soviet Union collapsed, everything in Ukraine would magically be fine. In the 1990s, many young people from the Ukrainian diaspora traveled to Ukraine and were deeply disillusioned. They realized they had been raised on an illusion—that the idyllic “cherry orchard by the house” was a myth. We had been told about one Ukraine, but the reality was something entirely different.
The diaspora created its own version of “Ukrainianness,” which was markedly different from other ethnic groups in the United States or Canada. We spoke Ukrainian at home, celebrated Christmas on January 7, painted pysanky, collected works by Ukrainian artists. Once a week, we gathered in churches—not because we were particularly religious, but because it was a guaranteed place to meet “our own.”
When we transitioned from such an environment to Ukraine, it was shocking: few people regularly attended church, and many spoke russian. It was a cultural shock for us. I share this to emphasize that those who have recently left Ukraine will likely experience something similar. On the one hand, they will remember the negative aspects of their homeland, justifying their decision to emigrate. On the other hand, if they decide to return and share their newfound experiences, they might face resistance or reluctance from their compatriots to accept them.
L.S. The majority of Ukrainians who move abroad, particularly to the U.S. or Canada, claim that education in these countries is significantly weaker than in Ukraine. On the other hand, as a parent with a child in a Ukrainian school, I have many reasons to complain about the quality of Ukrainian educational programs. So, where is education better? And is it even fair to compare them?
M.V. These systems are incomparable. The Ukrainian education system excels at transferring knowledge. If we believe that the primary goal of education is to impart knowledge, then the Ukrainian system does this far better than the North American one.
However, if we think education’s purpose is to foster and develop competencies—practical skills, socialization, instilling societal norms and behaviors, shaping attitudes toward others, and providing a worldview—then North American education is superior.
When Ukrainians come to North America and enroll their children in schools, they often say, "They don’t know how to teach math here; they don’t even know trigonometry." And that’s true. But on the other hand, if a Ukrainian child is asked to write an essay, they typically struggle to do so effectively. This isn’t about language but about worldview and the ability to articulate thoughts. Here’s the paradox: you can’t build knowledge on a poorly developed worldview, but you can build a worldview on a solid foundation of knowledge. The factual component of education forms the base, and the worldview component needs to be constructed on this foundation. That’s why I believe the Ukrainian education system is better, though it could benefit from integrating the best practices of American education.
We should not turn Ukrainian education into a Western-style system. At the same time, we must acknowledge that with tools like Google, the knowledge component has become less critical than it was 20 years ago.
Right now, we are enhancing the transformation processes in our universities, and I am convinced that over time, Ukrainian universities will offer a much higher level of knowledge and competencies than their North American counterparts. Critics might argue that our universities will never be as highly ranked as Harvard or Princeton. But let me point out that rankings have nothing to do with the quality of education. As a graduate of one of the world’s top universities, I can confidently say that I would never send my children there for their undergraduate studies. The undergraduate level isn’t about research, scientific discovery, or a research environment—it’s about transmitting knowledge and shaping the individual. And currently, Ukraine does this better. I am absolutely convinced of that.
L.S. Do you have any ideas for creating Ukrainian state educational institutions abroad? And would you be open to establishing a branch of a Ukrainian university in North America?
M.V. We already have several universities that are setting up branches abroad, including in China, Poland, Georgia, and Moldova. As for the U.S., it’s important to understand that America is the only jurisdiction in the world dominated by private education. Neither Europe nor Canada has this level of private education dominance. The fact that Stanford, Yale, Harvard, and Princeton are private institutions is a global anomaly of sorts, rooted in a uniquely American tradition of philanthropy.
Here’s a lesser-known fact: Harvard’s endowment is $85 billion. Interestingly, until recently, the financial manager of this endowment was a Ukrainian, Orest Hrabovych. I mention this to highlight that Ukrainians often excel in their chosen professions, which is a strength of the Ukrainian diaspora worldwide.
Private education can only thrive with substantial financial contributions from businesses, and these funding streams are built over centuries. Harvard’s endowment, for instance, has been in the making for nearly 200 years. If we’re prepared to wait two centuries, Ukraine might have the opportunity to create something similar.
L.S. But would you like to see a Ukrainian university in the U.S.?
M.V. Why? A university has three missions: teaching, research, and community development. Universities are always deeply rooted in their local environment. For example, Stanford is an integral part of Silicon Valley, and Harvard plays a critical role in the Boston cluster. Similarly, the Kyiv-Mohyla Academy is a vital part of Kyiv’s Podil district, and Taras Shevchenko National University is an essential part of Kyiv itself. Establishing branches abroad can be a good business model, but let’s not forget that one of the core missions of any university is to develop the community in which it is located.
L.S. Take, for example, the Ukrainian Catholic University (UCU), a private institution that has been expanding its geographic presence quite aggressively. Doesn’t that make it a pan-Ukrainian university?
M.V. Eighty percent of UCU’s students come from Lviv or the Lviv region. It is extremely important for Western Ukraine and Lviv. However, like every other university, it primarily belongs to its local community. Branches of this university may open in other cities under different names and formats, but at its core, UCU remains a university of Lviv.
L.S. Does the Kyiv-Mohyla Academy, for example, lack additional funding or the possibility of private or partially private ownership?
M.V. Over the past decade, the Ministry of Education has been moving toward greater university autonomy. We are now ready to release state universities from the "budgetary institution" trap, where the state controls both expenditures and revenues. Several universities are clearly ready for this step. However, the ministry isn’t ready to grant autonomy to all institutions yet, because it would require university leadership to sustain operations using market-based methods. If we were to grant full autonomy to the entire system now, many universities simply wouldn’t survive, especially under martial law. Therefore, this must be done gradually.
L.S. Upon moving to America, particularly during the war, Ukrainians often strive to maintain connections with other Ukrainians, attending Sunday schools and churches. Do you think this hinders their ability to adapt to a different mentality, social norms, and to better understand the country they’ve arrived in?
M.V. That’s a very complex question. I’ll answer it as someone who grew up in Canada, not the U.S., and it’s worth remembering that the diasporas in these two countries differ significantly. I distinctly remember when American plastuny (scouts) would visit camps in Canada and say they spoke “American.” We found this puzzling—what does it mean to speak American? We spoke English, French, or Ukrainian, but not “Canadian.” This highlights a fundamental difference between the two countries. When you come to the United States, you either embrace American identity or remain an immigrant. In Canada, there’s less pressure to assimilate. The concept of multiculturalism is prevalent—everyone is a Canadian with a hyphen. For example: Ukrainian-Canadian, French-Canadian, Japanese-Canadian. I believe Ukrainians played a significant role in shaping Canada’s multiculturalism policy.
L.S. So, what about Ukrainian-Americans?
M.V. It’s unnecessary to oppose “American identity” and “Ukrainian identity.” Being American is an institutional affiliation—living in the U.S., participating in presidential elections—while retaining one’s Ukrainian ethnicity. In my view, combining ethnic identity with institutional belonging is perfectly normal. In Ukraine, we’re used to discussing the concept of a Ukrainian political nation. For example, a Jewish person living in Ukraine may identify as Ukrainian, and that’s normal. The same applies in the U.S.: a Ukrainian living in America can retain their Ukrainian identity while holding U.S. citizenship. This ability to integrate while remaining true to oneself is our strength. Integration into North American professional and social life doesn’t require assimilation. That’s why I always say—if you’ve decided to live in the U.S. or Canada, integrate fully. My father did so and became a professor; my uncle became a major in the Canadian army. Yet, they remained Ukrainian. There are countless examples of Ukrainians who are well-integrated but not assimilated.
Author: Lukian Selskyi