I am the author of the Goodacity blog, a journalist, and a translator. For 16 years, I have worked in professional journalism, contributing to regional and national publications, both in print and online media. I have written reports, conducted interviews, reviews, articles on cultural, social, and charitable topics, as well as materials in the style of "solution journalism" and communication materials.
My focus is on creating interesting and exclusive content. Journalism, to me, is primarily about human stories, to which I always find the key, empathize with the people I write about, and love all my heroes. Journalism, to me, means telling people about what truly matters to them, informing and inspiring them. It is not just a job, but a way of life, just like for all those who dream, create, and are inspired by it.
So, if you are looking for stories that inspire and motivate, that instill faith and help find meaning while believing in goodness, read my stories on the Goodacity website.
I am a manager of cultural affairs and a project manager with over 14 years of experience at United Thinkers. I have participated in the organization of numerous successful social and charitable projects and have implemented informational campaigns and communication cases.
As a marketing manager, I have been involved in organizing marketing and sociological research, working with media and partners, developing advertising and marketing strategies, as well as planning and implementing advertising campaigns.
I believe in the power of goodness and I am happy that as part of the Goodacity project, I can contribute to its expansion. I believe in the power of words and in the fact that communication can help make the world a better place. I know how, where and when to speak in order to be heard. And when you are heard, you can change the world!
Lost Sight in War, Found Himself in Pottery
“I now see with my hands,” says Ivan as he sits down at the potter’s wheel, beginning to shape the clay. He lost his sight during the war, but in pottery, he found a new way to express himself.
“I’m molding my life anew with clay,” he smiles.
In peacetime, he had a job he loved, a wife, and two sons. His youngest son was born during the full-scale invasion.
“I waited for my son’s birth because I knew that if I didn’t see him now, I might never have the chance… I held the little one in my arms and then went to defend what’s most important. Now, I see my son with my heart.”
The war changed his life, but it did not break him. He lost his sight but not his spirit or zest for life.
“Even in darkness, one can live and create,” says Ivan Shostak, a veteran paratrooper and defender, an incredibly strong and bright individual who shapes his life both literally and figuratively.
We watch mesmerized as a neat clay mug takes shape under his hands… In his studio, there are dozens of such creations, each warm, poignant, and soulful. On each piece, there’s a logo with the emblem of the airborne assault troops and the motto: “No one but us.”
“Because no one but us will choose our freedom in this war,” he smiles. “With this motto, I went to protect Ukraine.”
Held My Son in My Arms and Went to War
Ivan’s service in the Ukrainian Armed Forces began in 2015 when he volunteered for the Anti-Terrorist Operation (ATO).
“Due to some chronic health issues, I wasn’t fit for military service, so they were hesitant to take me to war,” the man explains. “I had to run around collecting medical certificates.”
My friends laughed: others pay money to dodge the draft, and here you are, going out of your way to get in… That’s how it was. By the winter of 2015, I was already in military uniform, pleased to have joined the 79th Brigade — there I found motivated and reliable brothers-in-arms. I served for three years, and even after demobilizing, I knew that Russia would not stop there and that ‘there would be a continuation.’ Sadly, my prediction came true in February 2022.”
“My wife was expecting, and I waited for the birth of my son — before going to fight, I really wanted to hold my son in my arms at least once. I held him and then went off to ‘the great war.'”
During his three years serving in the ATO, Ivan found himself in many intense combat zones, but nothing as massive and large-scale as the full-scale invasion he witnessed in 2022… When everything the enemy has is being fired at you, you’re seeing a terrifying war of a magnitude that the world has yet to see…
“From my experience, I can tell you: our military personnel perform simply incredible feats every day, sometimes even beyond human capabilities…”
Remolding My Life
Our conversationalist is an incredibly humble man. We learn about Ivan’s numerous commendations for bravery and heroism from the internet, not from him.
“I was just doing my duty, serving the people of Ukraine,” Ivan says.
“I fought on the Bakhmut front, and on March 1, as we were going to reinforce our guys between Bakhmut and Chasiv Yar, Ukraine, I was wounded, which led to complete blindness.
The treatment took just two weeks — that was it. Then I was discharged home — and I had to figure out how to manage on my own…”
After his injury, Ivan spent four months at home — struggling mentally and dealing with the aftereffects of a concussion: dizziness and unable to walk even five hundred meters. Fortunately, one day his fellow soldier came over and “shook him up,” saying, “Come on, get up, ‘let’s break this rock’, life goes on, we need to do something, keep moving.”
After rehabilitation, Ivan started a new life. Despite his objections, his friends made him believe in himself and showed him that even in darkness, there is life and light — primarily, internal light and the light from bright people around.
“One day, I was invited to the workshop of an incredibly bright person, Mrs. Viktoriya (the renowned pottery artist Viktoriya Nikolayeva), to try my hand at pottery. I tried — with her help, everything succeeded, and I liked it. I thought, “Oh, great, I should do this again.” Later, when I sat down at the wheel by myself, I realized it wasn’t all that simple,” Ivan smiles. “Centering the clay, catching it — you get weary.”
“It took a while to get the hang of it: the clay often slapped against my hands, and finished mugs would sometimes collapse or warp… Clay is a very capricious “lady”; the slightest misstep, and all your work is ruined. What do you do then? You take a new piece, knead it, and start shaping it again… I thought: our entire life is like clay… You mold and extend something together, and then suddenly — it all collapses, disappears… Instead of mourning what’s lost, you take new clay and start all over — the potter’s wheel turns, life goes on… And so, I am now remolding my life anew.”
The Blind Who See With Their Hearts
“At first, I made clay cups, then tried my hand at bowls, which was more challenging, and then advanced to makitras, for which many people now inquire. It’s not an easy task, given their unique shape.
I’ve gifted dozens of my creations to family, friends, and comrades. At home, I drink from a mug I made myself — it tastes best that way!
I manage everything at home now,” the man explains.
“I can cook, do laundry, and handle all the essentials. Thanks to apps that read text aloud and even describe what’s in pictures, I can use my phone. The hardest part was learning to walk on my own — I still struggle with this due to a severe injury that affected my vestibular system. Our cities and streets are not very accommodating to people with various disabilities: it’s very tough for those in wheelchairs and those who are blind.”
“There’s a lack of tactile paving for the blind, and too few auditory traffic signals. And, of course, I desire greater inclusion, more empathy from society — not pity, but understanding. Don’t ignore us. Don’t look away. See us. We are not blind. We see — with our hearts, emotions, feelings, hands… There’s no “picture” before our eyes, but all other sensations are present…
“Don’t dwell on the negative and take charge of yourself,” Ivan smiles when asked how he copes.
“The main thing is not to get downhearted or drown your sorrows in drink. And most importantly, it’s about having people who are ready to support you. I’m glad I’ve found such people…”
Art in the Darkness
“I’ve been potting since December,” Ivan shares. “It’s almost a year since I started. In just four months, I made nearly a hundred pieces, and Viktoriya suggested organizing my personal exhibition ‘Art in the Darkness’ in Vinnytsia. At that exhibition, all my works… they sold out! I was very surprised and pleasantly overwhelmed by how many people came and their powerful reactions.”
Alongside pottery, Ivan trained as a massage therapist — he had dreamed of opening his own massage studio. With the money from selling his pottery, he bought a massage table and the necessary supplies. However, after finishing his training and beginning to practice, a serious hemorrhage due to overexertion landed him back in the hospital. The doctors said that working as a massage therapist was too great a strain his body couldn’t handle, so he had to give up that dream.
“Due to my treatment, there was a forced pause in my pottery — now I am returning to the wheel and want to organize another exhibition with Viktoriya to raise funds through the sale of my works for a buggy vehicle for one of our assault brigades. I’m glad that despite losing my sight and being unable to continue service, I’ve found myself and continue to help my comrades in any way I can.”
Viktoriya plans to open a pottery school for severely injured soldiers — to have them come, engage, and rehabilitate through art. We invite all our military personnel recovering from injuries to visit the workshop — to take a break, change the atmosphere.
“This is very healing creativity — sometimes, guys come after amputations, feeling down, saying, “I don’t even want to try, what can I do with one hand…” And then they see me — a blind man sitting at the wheel, making mugs and cups, and they change their minds, saying, “Let’s give it a try,” and they start working with the clay. It changes their perspective on life and their injuries, I believe. And I trust that they will be all right!”
We say goodbye. Ivan returns to his wheel. How passionately he POTS!
“Even in darkness, one can create. When I’m working, I forget about everything, even the fact that I can’t see,” he says, smiling.
His inner light is so abundant that it pushes the darkness away…
