By Maia Zasler
I have been figure skating since I was three years old. I started taking lessons from one of my current coaches, Olga Mudrak, at the age of 13. Her guidance and trademark “tough love” have had profoundly positive impacts on my skating abilities and on my character. But it wasn’t until these past few months that I really began to understand her story. From the time I met her, she would leave twice a year to visit her family in Ukraine, stay at their house on Odesa’s picturesque beaches, and write choreography for the coming year. Aside from looking forward to her return, I never thought much about where she was. It wasn’t until I saw her decked out in a vibrant blue sweater and vivid yellow leggings in April this past year, leading a fundraiser for those caught in the conflict in Ukraine, that I grasped the close ties she maintains with her homeland and the role figure skating has had on her upbringing.
Olga Ivanevna Mudrak grew up in what she describes as a “beautiful town on the beach,” Odesa. This particular city in the south of Ukraine was built in 1794 by Russian empress Catherine the Great. Mudrak states she gets “goosebumps” when she reflects on her time in the city. “There’s no place in the Soviet Union where so many cultures join in.” During her childhood, Ukraine was still a part of the now-collapsed USSR. The mix of ethnicities and nationalities, including Russian, Yiddish, Greek, Armenian, and of course Ukrainian, is attributed to the city being a major seaport. When discussing the overall nature of Odesa natives, Mudrak smiled and explained that “people have a sharp tongue there. They’re always trying to tease you, but everything there is just happy.” She went on to say that April Fool’s Day is “our day.” Throughout the former Soviet Union, Odesa was known as the “humor capitol.” Mudrak struggled when trying to articulate Odesa’s distinct character. She settled on saying, “It has its own spice, its own little treasure, its own uniqueness.”
Mudrak’s passion for her home country is strong, and so is her investment in figure skating. From the age of four, she began her training. Growing up in the Soviet Union, there were a limited number of activity choices. At the time, figure skating was sponsored by the Soviet government—the success of Soviet skaters was a source of immense pride (particularly in pairs and ice dancing events). Soviet skaters won seven straight Olympic gold medals from 1964 to 1991. Mudrak described figure skating as being popular because of its presence on television (which at the time, “only had three channels”). When Mudrak was young, she used to get sick frequently. Mudrak’s pediatrician’s solution to her perpetual illness was to advise her mother to enroll her in figure skating. When asked if she enjoyed the sport once she began skating, Mudrak replied: “I think I did.”
She felt that her cohort of child skaters was “almost like a herd.” When the youngest ones started out, the group would consist of roughly 300. That number then had to be pared down from 300 to 100, and then from 100 to 34, as there was only so much government funding allocated to subsidize the sport. It was extremely selective. One had to show promise in a period of two or three years, after which one would qualify to be in the athletics class. Children would go from skating three times a week, with conditioning and ballet classes, to skating and conditioning five days in a row, with one day off. Mudrak said she was “on a mission.”
“You’re in it.” Mudrak explained that once she qualified at the age of seven, the competition did not subside. Although the Soviet government covered general expenses, many families who could afford it would invest in private lessons for their children. If there was an opportunity to improve faster, and one had the means, there was no debate. Mudrak’s family was not able to cover the extra expense, and yet she still managed to excel. This exacerbated some existing animosity among the young athletes. Mudrak reflected on a time when she was returning from one of her conditioning classes and her laces had “100 ties.” Mudrak said that some people would “put skates against the battery… which is iron,” to dull competitors’ blade edges. Seemingly unbothered, Mudrak summed it up as “Mean girls and nice girls. Some know how to be a team player, and others do not. That’s how it is.”
This sabotage was not infrequent, and there were real consequences: not for the sabotage, but rather for being late to practice. Mudrak shared that she and her fellow skaters had to carry journals, and after every practice they would record their mistakes. From stumbling out of a spin or falling on a jump, to any other conceivable error, it had to be recorded. If the skaters did not keep up with their journals, the consequences were similar to that of showing up late to practice. Mudrak said they would have to do 100 push ups or other grueling physical exercises.
As skaters got older, 15 and 16, weight became an issue. Mudrak said that she would have to step on a scale at least four times a day. Her coach would record the number to ensure she was not over-indulging throughout the day. Mudrak smiled as she recounted the ways she and other skaters would manipulate the system, such as putting wedges in between the scale and the floor to prevent it from going down as much. Unfortunately, their ingenuitive tactics were not foolproof, and if they did not reach the appropriate weight marker, they would have to run through their rink’s bleachers before skating.
Mudrak started pairs skating at 10 years old. When she was 13, she and her skating partner were invited to Moscow to train, where they would have had more athletic opportunities. As Mudrak reports, Odesa coaches were strong in single skating but not as much with pairs and ice dancing. Mudrak had to turn down the invitation on behalf of her parents, who expressed that they’d be “torn apart as a family.” She said that she does not regret not going.
This choice dictated the rest of Mudrak’s skating career. When she was 19 (and married), there was minimal ice rink availability in Odesa. Mudrak and her partner had to go to other locations around Ukraine and outside the country to train. Her last competitive season was in 1995, when Mudrak was 21, because the singular rink officially shut down in Odesa. Mudrak initially followed her now ex-husband, Vyacheslav (“Slava”) Zahorodnyuk to Kyiv, the capital of Ukraine. They went on to Norway and Finland, where Mudrak coached and Slava trained. The two finally settled in Richmond, Virginia after being invited to fill up coaching/skater positions in the expanding Skate Nation ice skating rink brand.
Mudrak was initially hesitant and did not want to be separated from her Ukrainian family. She left her sister Inna, eight years her senior, and her mother and father, Alexsandra and Ivan. About Inna, Mudrak whispered jokingly that “she was so annoying.” She elaborated on their relationship: “Black and white. Night and day. I am a tomboy, and she is a bookworm.” Mudrak then went on to reflect on her general family dynamic. “I don’t remember my family as being a warm family, doing things together. It’d rarely happen, because I was always training.” Mudrak said that she was a “star” for her mother. When pressed for more details about her mother, Mudrak took a moment to pause and collect herself: “Mom. That’s a hard one… I love her to death, and she’s my everything… She was really tough. She was the one who would ride the bike and make us run (when the coach wasn’t there).” Above all, Mudrak remains grateful to her parents, saying “they gave me everything.”
In Ukraine, it is tradition that once children go off to college and secure a job, they stay near their family. Mudrak explained that “typical Ukrainian family are wealthy enough, staying on their ground well, they have kids. By the time kids are out of college, they need to provide them with apartment where they go live on their own, but they’re still going to be in town.” Going to America was pushing the limits, but in her words, it was even “more so” when she returned a second time.
Following her divorce with Slava, Mudrak returned to Odesa for five years, between 2010 and 2015. At the time, she was raising her two kids, Alina and Maksim, who were one and four years old. She wanted her children to grow up at her beach house with their grandparents around them so they could “grow happier and stronger.” Mudrak decided to move back to Richmond in 2015 partially because of Russia’s annexation of Crimea, a Ukrainian territory, in 2014, and also because the United States felt like home.
Mudrak maintained her close ties with her family and her hometown by visiting Ukraine twice a year. However, this past year, she has been unable to make the trips. She says that “every day, I wish someone would wake me up from this bad dream.”
On February 24, the eighty-year-old Russian-Ukrainian conflict dramatically escalated when Russian President Vladimir Putin sent Russian troops to invade. Ukraine was a cornerstone of the Soviet Union, the second-most populous of the 15 Soviet republics. The USSR relied on the nation for agricultural production, storage of nuclear arsenals, and defense industries. Ukraine declared itself an independent country in 1991, marking the beginning of the end of the Soviet Union (which dissolved in December of that year). For the last three decades, Ukraine has aligned itself more with the European Union and Western nations. In 2014, Ukraine first became a battleground. Now, Ukrainians are fighting again against Russian aggression and persevering through Putin’s threats of nuclear weapon use. There have been significant civilian casualties and infrastructure damage.
Mudrak, seemingly at a loss when asked about the nature of the conflict, said: “to me, it’s unbelievable, because we grew up in the Soviet Union. We grew up as a family. We went to training camps with all of us together [Russians and Ukrainians]. We did not have: ‘Oh, are you from Kazakhstan?’ ‘Oh, are you from Ukraine?’ We were together.” Mudrak can no longer safely visit her family. She tries to avoid reading too many updates on war-time developments, revealing that “I learn how not to look. Talking to my mom and my dad is enough for me to know and to feel peaceful that they’re fine in the moment.”
Mudrak said that for her, the Russian sentiment turned against Ukrainians back in 2014, not suddenly in this past year. She noted a specific example with a previously close family friend. Mudrak’s mother was born in Ukraine, but following World War II, moved to Moldova for college. In the Soviet Union, after completing higher education, people were directed where to work. Her mother ended up meeting a woman who now lives in St. Petersburg, Russia. This woman used to visit the Mudrak’s beach house every year… until 2014. Mudrak explained the Russian mindset as “Oh, they’re [Ukrainians] Nazis. There are people being killed.” But she doesn’t understand it. Mudrak, in simulating a conversation with that family friend, exclaimed “‘You see us, you know us. Did we change? No!’” Mudrak sees figure skaters who are taking political sides during this intensified aggression and doesn’t understand it either. She knows though that “little by little, people did get turned around.”
When asked if she thought the shift in Russian public perception has been attributed to Putin’s leadership and Russian state-sponsored media, Mudrak replied “Of course, of course… How else can you go and come and stay with our family every summer and then, in 2014, just stop?”
Still, Mudrak perseveres. She speaks to her parents every morning (when the internet is not down) to ensure they are safe. Although her family’s power has been cut out, they have not been directly hit by the often fatal violence. She knows she has to learn to live with the knowledge of this difficult reality, without being physically present in Ukraine to help, and push it aside. This doesn’t mean she doesn’t struggle with the intense emotions of separation and anxiety: “How can you survive in this world knowing that your family can die any day? And you can’t do anything about it… and they don’t want to do anything about it!”
Mudrak’s nephew is 18 and will be 19 in December. He is currently in Draft H, so he is not in active combat. He’s doing virtual school for his college education, waiting to be called to fight. Like many students in the US, Ukrainian kids had to reconcile with the challenges of the coronavirus pandemic in the last few years and were forced to stay out of school and distanced from one another. For Ukrainian youth, COVID-19 impacts turned to war. Mudrak told of another personal connection. “One of my students, when I was in Ukraine, is the same age as Maksim. She is 17. She graduated from high school this year because they’re finishing a little bit earlier. There’s only 11 years of school. And her mom forced her to go to England to get to college, and she decided not to. She came back home and is now in college in Odesa because she couldn’t handle emotionally. She even started her own blog. She started videoing. She was trying to find something to get excited about.”
When asked about what she thinks the implications will be for Ukrainian youth, Mudrak said, through a combination of exasperated laughs and leftover tears, “They’re going to be really, really strong when they get through all of this, or they’re going to be so screwed up and messed up.” She went on to say that “It’s tough enough just to survive in this world, on your own, become a good person, serve the world, be a part of this universe. And when you’re put in such hard conditions, it’s-it’s hard to be the person you want to be.”
Mudrak says that what ultimately gives her some peace of mind is being in touch with her family and recognizing the global outrage over Russia’s actions. She has learned how to live “day-by-day.” She will get excited with any reported Ukrainian advancements or improvement of strategic position, and she is always “praying and hoping.” In April this year, Mudrak, decked out in a vibrant blue sweater and vivid yellow leggings, organized a figure skating show to fundraise for Ukraine. She said that the effort was “something little that we can do on our end. Will it stop the war? No. But it’s something we can do, and it helps my family.”
Featured image courtesy of Olga Mudrak.
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