6:45 p.m., March 12, 2022
Irina Roizin has a dilemma. This 63-year-old Ukrainian founded the Brighton Ballet Theater more than thirty years ago, a renowned dance school located in Brighton Beach, a neighborhood in southern Brooklyn, New York. The establishment is better known as the School of Russian American Ballet but, two weeks after the outbreak of war in Ukraine by Vladimir Putin, the ex-dancer is considering finding a new name for it. “The word “Russian” refers not to a country but to a cultureexplains Irina Roizin, who arrived in the United States in 1976. But now we are a little afraid to use it. Look what happened with Covid, people were saying it was from China and going after people of Asian descent.» So far, she claims not to have encountered any hostility, but she is worried: « We don’t know how it’s going to evolve, you know, people are nervous. »
Here, an hour from midtown Manhattan, lives one of the largest Russian-speaking communities in the United States. A holiday destination at the end of the 19th century, these few streets became a land of immigration, especially for Jews fleeing the countries of the former USSR in the 1970s. The place earned the nickname of Little Odessa, after the Ukrainian city bordering the Black Sea. For decades, Russians, Ukrainians, Georgians and Belarusians have lived together in peace in this small territory facing the Atlantic Ocean. Languages and identities intertwine and make the richness of the place. Better to speak a Slavic language to ask for directions and read Cyrillic to decipher restaurant menus.
The owners of The Taste of Russia grocery store took the plunge a few days ago. The shop, where you can find all the sweets of the country, is now called International Food. Journalists are politely turned away. The welcome is the same at Kalinka Gifts or Saint Petersburg Home. Kartina TV, a network of Russian-language television channels, is one of the few that openly supports Kiev. « We accept donations for Ukraine», claim two posters on its facade. If, in the evening, the flagship attraction of the nearby Coney Island funfair, The Parachute Jump, lights up in blue and yellow, few businesses in Little Odessa have taken out the Ukrainian flag. « People don’t think less of it but they keep it to themselves»sighs a resident.
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prayers for peace
At Kartina TV, the boxes are piling up. Baby diapers, cans, pasta, etc. Behind her counter, Kate, a Ukrainian who arrived as an au pair in 2011, welcomes the generosity of the neighborhood. « There’s no tension here but of course the war is a problem», says this thirty-year-old who lives in the neighborhood. She changes her mind to tell, in a low voice and supporting photos, that two days earlier she found her car, on which she wrote “Stop Poutine”, with a flat tire. « Some have been brainwashedshe laments. They only get information from Russian channels that talk about a “security operation” in Ukraine. The other day, a client told me that Russia does not attack civilians. I had to show him pictures to prove him wrong. »
In the shadow of the towering Skytrain on Brighton Beach Avenue is Vera Krasilnikova’s shop. This Russian who emigrated twenty-six years ago sells canned caviar and seafood. She says she is not afraid of economic repercussions: customers are there and supply does not seem to be a problem. « That, that comes from Alaska, that from Spain, that from Italy», she explains, pointing to the different shelves. As for the “Russian caviar”, it comes from Bulgaria. Even though her brother-in-law is Ukrainian, she says she does not want « to take part» while emphasizing being « on the side of the people, not Putin». In the meantime, she sees only one thing to do: “Pray. »
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Our priest asked us not to talk about Ukraine
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Pray is possible three steps away, in the tiny Russian Orthodox Church of the Mother of God. Inside the single room, incense floats around the gilded furniture and icons. « Our followers come from Russia, Ukraine, Moldova, Georgialists Tania, the guardian of the place. But our priest asked us not to talk about Ukraine.» She herself was born in the suburbs of Kiev and fears the worst for her sister, who still lives there. A lady enters, places a few dollars on the counter and collects herself after lighting several candles. Tania clarifies: « Here we pray for peace. »
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