Runner-Up: Ladies that Stayed
A series of photographs that reflects a strong sense of identity or narrative. Respect for the dignity of the person is important.
Ladies that Stayed
They are beautiful, strong, delightful elderly babushkas, an affectionate term for grandmother. In the face of profound adversity, they are ladies that stayed. Seniors should be enjoying their twilight years, not worried about the next airstrike nearby. But they can’t - or won’t - leave. They are potential targets. Random shelling feels more like terrorism for the vulnerable. They deal with not only the brutal existence of a war zone, but daily struggles of aging with few available services. The babushkas are in a realm of their own. Their spirits sparkle. They all compare Russia’s invasion to WWII and wistfully show old photos of when they were young, then mention the rocket that landed in their neighborhood. They whisper bittersweet blessings as they return to their bunkers, awaiting another night of bombardment. Sweet dreams don’t come easy as war rages. Babushkas in Bucha hid in a basement together during the Russian occupation. After liberation, the women found bodies littering their town and navigated rubble-strewn streets to receive humanitarian aid. They are grateful for volunteers that risk all to help. They still gather nightly at the one home with heat to make blueberry tea and reminisce. Destiny here is as unpredictable as the bombs that rain from the sky. The suffering in Ukraine is epic, but the world has also seen an enduring spirit and mortal courage of a people challenged to survive. The ladies are a symbol of our shared humanity. Grace in a babushka. They are the grandmother we never knew, the beloved mother we lost. They are light in this darkness. In a world at war on so many levels, they are hope. When 89-year-old Nadia shyly performs a moving folk ballad called Mother's Braid - it sounds like a whisper of peace…
Ladies that Stayed
They are beautiful, strong, delightful elderly babushkas, an affectionate term for grandmother. In the face of profound adversity, they are ladies that stayed. Seniors should be enjoying their twilight years, not worried about the next airstrike nearby. But they can’t - or won’t - leave. They are potential targets. Random shelling feels more like terrorism for the vulnerable. They deal with not only the brutal existence of a war zone, but daily struggles of aging with few available services. The babushkas are in a realm of their own. Their spirits sparkle. They all compare Russia’s invasion to WWII and wistfully show old photos of when they were young, then mention the rocket that landed in their neighborhood. They whisper bittersweet blessings as they return to their bunkers, awaiting another night of bombardment. Sweet dreams don’t come easy as war rages. Babushkas in Bucha hid in a basement together during the Russian occupation. After liberation, the women found bodies littering their town and navigated rubble-strewn streets to receive humanitarian aid. They are grateful for volunteers that risk all to help. They still gather nightly at the one home with heat to make blueberry tea and reminisce. Destiny here is as unpredictable as the bombs that rain from the sky. The suffering in Ukraine is epic, but the world has also seen an enduring spirit and mortal courage of a people challenged to survive. The ladies are a symbol of our shared humanity. Grace in a babushka. They are the grandmother we never knew, the beloved mother we lost. They are light in this darkness. In a world at war on so many levels, they are hope. When 89-year-old Nadia shyly performs a moving folk ballad called Mother's Braid - it sounds like a whisper of peace…