Ivan S from Novosibirsk

Ivan’s great-grandparents—Polish Jews—survived the war by being evacuated to the harsh, frozen landscape of Yakutia. It was in this region that their children, then grandchildren, and finally great-grandchildren were born. His great-grandmother, shaped by bitter experience, taught the family to live quietly and blend in with those around them to avoid drawing trouble. Yet, even in this seclusion, the shadow of antisemitism found them; as a young boy, Ivan learned firsthand the pain caused by the hatred of others.

His grandmother was different. Having grown up apart from the Jewish community, she chose a career in science—specifically, polymer chemistry. She passed on a love of learning to Ivan, who excelled at chemistry. His path seemed set. But at the age of eleven, everything changed. He sat down at the piano. Although his peers were already playing with virtuosity while he was just learning to play chords, that innate family perfectionism stirred within him. He did not know how to give up. Six hours a day—until his fingers ached and his ears rang—he honed his craft, pouring his very soul into the keys. At thirteen, still just a child, he left home to study in Yakutsk. Even that city soon felt too small, so he set off for Novosibirsk—a city of great opportunity. Leaving behind the lives they had built, his closest family members followed him: his grandmother, his mother, and his younger brother. They believed in him.

Then came the event that shattered his world. His mother fell ill. Cancer struck, and then, in 2021, the coronavirus hit her at the same time. Ivan was only nineteen at the time, yet he was already an acclaimed musician and composer whose talents had been recognized in Chicago and Jerusalem. He had achieved major triumphs and built an extensive network of connections. He raised a staggering amount of money for her treatment and moved heaven and earth in a desperate bid to save her. Yet even that could not halt the passage of time. His mother passed away, leaving a wound in his heart that has never truly healed.

Today, Ivan composes a great deal of Jewish music. His melodies embody the pain of his ancestors, the light of Hanukkah candles, and a quiet longing for his mother. Yet in Russia, he repeatedly encounters hatred—the very same evil his great-grandmother once fled.

Now, Jerusalem awaits him. He has been accepted into the Academy of Music and Dance without entrance exams—as if fate itself has thrown the doors wide open for him. He is leaving to live, study, and create in a land where his music will finally find its true home.  It is hard to leave behind his grandmother, brother and girlfriend.

Ezra helped Ivan in the form of partial reimbursement for travel to the consulate and the apostille fee, as well as an airport transfer.  Ivan says: “A huge thank you to Ezra for the help provided! I thought I was being assisted by Jewish philanthropists, but it turns out the aid comes from donations made by believing Christians. The Christian God is kind!”