Today I wanted to share a note from Yevheniia Kvasnevska, who I profiled in The Queer Face of War and is now helping me promote the project from her home in Odesa—when she has electricity and a working internet connection.
The air raid sirens now sound almost constantly. Every evening I listen to the shelling, and every morning I read the news about hits, casualties, and the number of shells fired. As winter approaches, the Russians are launching targeted attacks to leave people without heating, electricity, mobile communications, the internet, or drinking water. These days I'm lucky if I have power for more than an hour.
I was 16 when Russia first invaded in 2014. I grew up and came out with this threat hanging over me, while also battling my city and far-right groups for the right to hold Pride in Odesa. When the full-scale invasion began in 2022, I volunteered with Gay Alliance Ukraine, helping get supplies to queer people behind the front lines—many of whom were too afraid of being discovered by the Russian occupiers to even leave their homes.
That summer I visited Prides across Europe, explaining why our fight was their fight. Russia doesn't just want to conquer Ukraine with weapons; it wants to use homophobia to make people fear democracy itself. If Russia succeeds here, it will inspire other authoritarians to do the same. We're already seeing this as the war drags on—even in the US, once our strongest ally.
I was already burned out when Lester visited me three years ago, and we'd only been in the full-scale war for nine months. I felt powerless, like nothing I did mattered, like we'd been forgotten. I almost canceled my interview with him.
What convinced me: I still had hope that our stories—our determination to live as our true selves in a free country—would connect with people around the world who know the same struggle. Queer people everywhere understand what it's like to be targeted, to have powerful forces determined to erase your existence.
So I want to ask you to help us in our fight. And I want you to be inspired by our ability to fight back, even when the battle feels impossible.
Even on these cold, dark days, I am holding onto that.
