I am a student in class 10-A. On Mondays and Tuesdays, we study online; on the other days, we attend school in person. But just a few years ago, everything was completely different.

Before the war, our school was a whole little world of its own. Many students still remember the spacious grounds of the Municipal Institution of Higher Education “Khortytsia National Educational and Rehabilitation Academy” of the Zaporizhzhia Regional Council, which our lyceum is part of. We remember the green avenue, the gazebos, the sports ground, the football field and the running track. At school, there were discos every Thursday, concerts, performances and clubs. Some students sang, others danced, and others prepared for competitions. We could even stay overnight. For us, it was not simply a place where we went to study. It was a place we wanted to come to every day and stay for as long as possible.

“School was a place of joy and happiness, not just a place of learning,” says my classmate Liza.

After the full-scale war began, everything changed. According to the Department of Education and Science of the Zaporizhzhia City Council, between February 24, 2022 (the date of Russia’s full-scale invasion of Ukraine) and February 24, 2026, 72 educational institutions in the city of Zaporizhzhia were damaged.

In October 2022, the Khortytsia National Educational and Rehabilitation Academy was also hit by enemy shelling. Four missiles destroyed the academy’s main building, forcing our lyceum to relocate. Now we study in the premises of a teacher training college, using its shelter.

Image: Article author.

Our shelter has long been more than just a basement. It has been divided into small classrooms. There, we listen to our teachers’ explanations, take part in discussions, complete various assignments, conduct experiments, prepare for tests, and more. During prolonged air-raid alerts, we even eat there.

It is always noisy in the shelter. Several classes are studying nearby at the same time, voices blend together, someone is answering a question at the board, while somewhere close by a teacher is explaining a new topic. And still, we study, communicate, enjoy life. And we do more than just that.

My classmates and I take part in various competitions, conferences and contests.

For example, in September 2025, Zaporizhzhia Polytechnic National University organized a “Night of Science” for school students. The event was dedicated to promoting science and developing science, technology, engineering and mathematics (STEM) education. I won first place in the humanities section of the children’s scientific conference “My New Ukraine.” My project focused on Ukrainian identity – on how symbols, colours, images and signs contribute to shaping the identity and recognizability of modern Ukraine.

Then, in November of the current school year, I won the regional stage of the All-Ukrainian Competition for Guides at Museums of Educational Institutions, “The Land Where I Live.” I took first place and was invited to compete at the national level. For this competition, I researched the history of the museum at the Khortytsia National Academy’s Scientific Lyceum, studying its exhibits and documents.

Image: Spotlight mediagroup.

For me, taking part in competitions now is not about winning. It is about not letting the war put my education and my life on hold. It is a feeling of being divided in two: my mind is focused on the main points of an article, while my ears instinctively listen for sounds in the sky. You read through materials, write down important facts, prepare your presentation, and then, right at that moment, an air-raid alert begins. You close your notebook, grab your backpack and go down to the shelter – and at home, to the basement. Then you return to your work. And so it goes, over and over again.

But my classmates and I do not stop. In fact, the students of our lyceum take part in scientific conferences, forums and project schools. We have 12 student publications in academic journals, conduct experimental research in astronomy, biology, physics, chemistry, psychology and education, carry out projects on environmental protection and sustainable development, and participate in innovative educational experiments in cooperation with researchers from the Khortytsia National Academy.

Over the past five years, we have repeatedly become winners and prize-winners in international research competitions (241 winners), national and international subject Olympiads (10 winners), competitions organized by the Junior Academy of Sciences of Ukraine (284 winners), language and literature competitions (245 winners), creative festivals, arts and sports competitions (518 winners), and innovative educational and scientific projects (407 winners).

My classmate Alesia Vorobiova does dance. When I asked her what dancing means to her during the war, she answered simply: “When I dance, I remind myself that I am here, I am alive.”

It seems to me that this can be said not only about dance. It can also be said about studying, competitions and our daily journeys to the lyceum.

We live in a time when an air-raid siren can interrupt a lesson. When part of our education takes place in a shelter. When the journey to the lyceum begins not only with a minibus and fields passing by outside the window, but also with the thought of whether the day will pass without shelling.

But no matter how the day turns out, we are alive. And we are grateful to our defenders, who do everything they can to give us the opportunity to live, learn, enjoy life, succeed and have our voices heard.