Beacons of light under fire

Founded by Uri and Yael Poliavich in 2020, the Yael Foundation is now global philanthropic investor in the Jewish Future currently working in 45 countries impacting over 19,000 Jewish students, leading change to promote excellence in Jewish education. In collaboration with other foundations and philanthropies, its many initiatives and grants are having an extremely positive impact on the future of the Jewish people worldwide. Through investments in day schools, a unique multinational subsidized summer camp, leadership programs, and informal education, the Yael Foundation is building a stronger, more resilient, more confident global Jewish people.

Operating under fire, displacement, and prolonged power outages, the Yael-supported schools in Ukraine have become far more than places of learning; they are sanctuaries, and community anchors. From the earliest days of the war, the principals in these schools moved swiftly to ensure learning did not collapse. Classes shifted online as families fled to safer cities, relocated within Ukraine, or crossed borders further into Europe and Israel.

For Jewish schools, the stakes were always high. School buildings became hubs for community life, emotional support, and physical survival. They offered something increasingly rare during wartime: light, warmth, structure, and a sense of normality.

Nowhere is this clearer than in Mykolaiv.

Mykolaiv lies just 30 kilometers from active combat zones. The city has endured near-daily shelling, prolonged electricity outages, and repeated disruptions to water and heating systems. Yet against this backdrop, more than 50 children continue to attend the Jewish school, Or Menachem, and kindergarten in person.

Supported largely by the Yael Foundation, including assistance that predated the war and helped fund the school’s construction, the institution has remained open despite extraordinary conditions. Basements were converted into shelters. Schedules were shortened and adapted around air-raid alerts. Lessons pause for sirens and resume immediately after the all-clear.

“The war entered our school not through the front door, but through every sound, every pause, every child’s glance,” Katerina Pavlishcheva, the school’s principal said.

But safety, she emphasized, is not only physical. “Our greatest challenge became maintaining mental and emotional stability.”

Teachers arrive after sleepless nights. Children distinguish between the sounds of artillery, drones, and cruise missiles. Parents entrust the school with what matters most to them – even when tomorrow is uncertain.

In response, the school expanded its role. It became a stronghold of stability, a place where Jewish learning, tradition, and values continued even in shelters. Hebrew songs are sung to strengthen connection.. Blessings are recited during alerts. Faith, responsibility, and mutual support are taught not as abstractions, but as lived experience, and sources of stability.

“Education became a form of resistance” and routine an expression of courage. Presence leads to hope,” Pavlishcheva said.

At the start of the war, Kamianske was considered relatively safe compared to cities further east. As a result, it absorbed waves of Jewish families fleeing more heavily bombarded regions, even as others left the country altogether.

Today, more than 90 children attend the Beit Menachem Lubavitch Lyceum. The school transformed rapidly to meet new realities, reinforcing shelters, drilling a water well, and installing a powerful generator to cope with frequent outages.

“The war has created an ongoing reality of fear, anxiety, and uncertainty,” Dina Stambler, the principal said. “Our city made tremendous efforts to assist refugees, economically and emotionally, at a time when their stability was shattered.”

Recognizing the toll on mental health, the school expanded its psychological support, assembling a team that actively monitors students and families, including those who may not seek help themselves. Education continues amid sirens and sudden evacuations to protected areas, guided by strict safety protocols and constant emotional care.

At the same time, Jewish identity remains central. Prayer, holidays, and acts of kindness are woven into daily life. Students visit senior centers, organize performances, and pack food parcels for those in need.

“The school is not only an educational institution,” Stambler continued. “It is the beating heart of the community.”

Chernivtsi, near the Romanian border, has served as a gateway for refugees since the first days of the war. Thousands arrived seeking temporary shelter; some moved on, while others chose to rebuild their lives there.

For those families, the Afternoon School for Jewish Children became a decisive factor in staying. Today, around 120 children participate regularly in educational and community activities, a number that has grown since the war began.

“We first took care of food, sleep, and shelter,” Irina Hitelman, the director of the school recalled. “But very quickly, parents needed something else, stability for their children.”

The school brought in psychologists, extended hours, and ensured that children were supported physically, emotionally, and educationally from morning to evening. In the chaos of displacement, it became the strongest foundation families could rely on.

“This is a message to institutions around the world,” said Pnina Glisnshtain, Director of Jewish Educational Activities at the Jewish Community of Chernivtsi. “Children who fled their homes with nothing can still learn, grow, and progress. That means it is possible anywhere.”

“Supporting these schools is about more than education, it’s about sustaining Jewish life, identity, and hope,” said Chaya Yosovich, CEO of the Yael Foundation. “In the midst of war, Jewish learning becomes a lifeline: a source of strength, resilience, and community for children and families facing unimaginable challenges. By investing in Jewish education in Ukraine, we are helping to ensure that the light of our heritage continues to shine, even in the darkest of times.”

Nevertheless, this winter has already been especially harsh, with power outages lasting 16 to 20 hours a day in many cities. Without electricity, there is often no running water, no heating, and no ability to cook or store food. Kosher kitchens have become difficult to maintain. Air-raid alerts can trap children in shelters for hours, sometimes late into the night.

In this reality, schools have become lifelines.

They are often the only places with generators, hot meals, light, and warmth. They provide not just education, but safety, dignity, and human connection. They allow communities to endure.

Ukraine today, these educators insist, is not only pain. It is strength.

And in Mykolaiv, Kamianske, and Chernivtsi, Jewish schools supported by the Yael Foundation stand as proof that Jewish life in Ukraine has not stopped, it has not even paused. It continues under sirens, during blackouts, and in the shadow of war, carrying light forward, one child at a time.