Militsa Eggert

Russia's occupation of Ukrainian territories is usually described in the language of war: front lines, trenches, drones, artillery. But another battle unfolds inside institutions and especially schools. Whoever controls the curriculum, the symbols on the walls, and the history lessons, controls the official version of reality.

In the autumn of 2024, masked soldiers took Mariia away from her family in an occupied city in southern Ukraine. A few hours later, the soldiers called Mariia's daughter and, during a video call, showed her mother tied up while threatening that unless she cooperated with Russian forces, they would transfer her mother to an undisclosed prison. According to a UN report, this is not an isolated case: the Russian state is committing war crimes against civilians abducted from the occupied territories.

In the autumn of 2024, armed Russian soldiers came to Maria's home (not her real name). “ They told me that if my children did not go to school, they had every right to take them away and that there would be nothing we could do about it,” the woman recalls. Her village was occupied in 2022 following Russia's armed aggression against Ukraine. After that, the mother gathered her children and left the occupied territory.

“To know wisdom and instruction, to perceive the words of understanding.” These were among the first words translated into Armenian after Saint Mesrop Mashtots created the Armenian alphabet in 405AD. More than sixteen centuries later, those words continue to resonate, not only as the foundation of Armenian literacy but also as a reminder that language is a bridge to knowledge, dialogue, and understanding. Standing in front of the European Parliament in Strasbourg, the Armenian alphabet monument embodies that very idea. It is more than a tribute to a unique writing system. It is a symbol of how culture can connect

Shostka, a city of around 70.,00 people in Ukraine's northeastern Sumy region, lies just a few dozen kilometres from the Russian border. Since Russia's full-scale invasion, its residents have learned to live with daily air raid sirens, repeated attacks on energy infrastructure and prolonged power outages. Electricity can disappear without warning, taking with it heating, water, mobile communications and Internet access. For people, every blackout is another test of endurance. Yet there is one place where the lights are always on. Thanks to EU support, the local NGO ‘Charm Future' has transformed a community facility into an energy-independent hub – a place where residents can find light, warmth, connectivity, but also reassurance that they are not facing the crisis alone.

On May 7, Young European Ambassadors (YEAs) in Armenia participated in a high-level youth dialogue meeting with the President of Latvia at the TUMO Center for Creative Technologies in Yerevan. The event fostered vibrant discussion on youth engagement, democratic values, and both Armenia–Latvia and EU–Armenia cooperation through an interactive panel discussion. Results Achieved: Target Audience: Communication Reach: YEAs Involved: Cooperation:

When Artem Peredereiev, 36, woke up after the amputation of both his legs, he could not imagine a future outside the hospital walls. A volunteer who joined the army in 2024, from a small settlement near Pokrovsk in Ukraine's Donetsk region, he was severely wounded on the battlefield and brought to Ivano-Frankivsk for rehabilitation. His physical condition was poor, and emotionally he was depressed. “Everything was new and different. I had no place to return to because my hometown was occupied. I did not understand how to live further,” he recalls.

Ani Tsintsadze grew up in Georgia with a strong sense of European identity and an equally strong awareness that this path is not guaranteed. For her, that awareness was never just political – it was personal. She watched her country navigate pressures that shaped everything from security to public trust, and she wanted to understand the systems behind them. “If you want to see change in your country or region, you need to understand the systems that influence it,” she says. “That is what motivated me, and what continues to drive my work today.”

Elina Kalnibalotskaya did not set out to become a cultural advocacy leader. In 2020, she watched as Belarusian authorities arrested artists, shut down theatres, and forced cultural figures into exile following the disputed presidential election. She and her colleague Siarhei decided to do something about it. They built an organisation on their own to support cultural figures under threat, and later to advocate for the sector as a whole.

Nensi Mkrtchyan did not follow a straight line into the work she does today. Her journey moved through marketing studies, university administration, parliamentary committees, and years of hands-on engagement with civil society – before the EU4Youth Scholarship Programme at the College of Europe in Natolin gave her the academic grounding to bring it all together.