Evgeniy Maloletka/AP/File

A woman passes a burning apartment building after shelling in Mariupol, Ukraine, March 13, 2022. What was once a city of half a million residents now has a population of about 100,000, living under occupation. Its City Council maintains a government in exile in Kyiv.

Olha Pikula spends her days imagining and working toward a Mariupol that rises from the ashes of Russia’s invasion and occupation as a renewed, vibrant city.

The Mariupol of Ms. Pikula’s vision is green, inclusive, economically diverse, designed with women in mind, and attractive to Ukrainian youth anxious to play their part in a city’s rebirth.

Before Russia’s full-scale invasion of Ukraine, Mariupol, home to one of Europe’s largest steel mills, was a city of a half-million people that won recognition for good governance.

Today it’s a city of perhaps 100,000 residents, streets of destroyed buildings, mass graves of thousands – and it’s in the hands of occupiers.

But Ms. Pikula – a Mariupol council member who now serves her city’s displaced population from government-in-exile offices in Kyiv – insists that the devastation must also be seen as an “opportunity” to build a new and better city once the war and the occupation are over.

“Of course we will need the places for crying and remembering the dead,” she says, “but we don’t want to remain the city of cemeteries and pain. We want to rebuild our city for living, not for crying.”

To accomplish that, Ms. Pikula says, will require “forward thinking,” and a faith that “we can influence our future” to turn pain into progress.

“When we do that, it opens new opportunities ... to build a new Mariupol that will be better,” she adds, “and a new Ukraine that will be much better than it was before.”

A nation’s principles

Ms. Pikula is among a burgeoning number of Ukrainians promoting a national effort to re-imagine Ukraine ahead of what many experts anticipate will be the largest reconstruction project since Europe’s post-World War II Marshall Plan.

Across Ukraine, architects, engineers, city planners, economists, educators, sociologists, and nongovernmental organizations ranging from women’s groups to human rights advocates are uniting to press for a physical rebuilding project that reflects the values and principles of a country that since Russia’s aggression is even more Western-oriented than before.

Howard LaFranchi/The Christian Science Monitor

Olha Pikula, a member of the Mariupol City Council in exile, which serves the city's displaced residents, at the council's office in Kyiv, June 20, 2023. The poster expresses gratitude for humanitarian aid that has come in from around the world.

Planning for Ukraine’s reconstruction has already begun at the international level. In June the Ukraine Recovery Conference in London brought together hundreds of countries and public and private development organizations that pledged $60 billion toward a recovery and rebuilding program that the World Bank and other experts estimate will require well over $500 billion.

European Union officials are investigating the international tools available to force Russia to foot the bill for repairing the extensive damage it has inflicted on Ukraine, from ports and other transportation facilities – more than 300 bridges have been destroyed – to power plants, schools, factories, and residences.

For a model, many Ukrainians are looking to Warsaw and how Poland’s capital, essentially razed during World War II, has been rebuilt to become a vibrant and livable city today. Mariupol even has a branch of its Mariupol Reborn project in Warsaw, to learn firsthand from what is considered a successful rebuilding project.

Yet even as the attention and support of the international community is appreciated and welcomed, some Ukrainians also argue that the rebuilding will be most successful if it is inspired and driven by priorities and values determined by Ukrainians themselves.

“Since the beginning of Russia’s full invasion, Ukraine’s resistance has been engaged in the choosing of a set of values to guide our struggle for freedom,” says Oleg Drozdov, an architect and founder of Rozkvit, a coalition of Ukrainian and foreign urban designers and other thinkers whose name means “blossoming” or “renaissance.”

“In a similar way,” he adds, “the transformation of our future and our future form of society will be the result of a particular number of values that we Ukrainians are choosing.”

A focus on the long term

The act of establishing a set of values to guide this transformation is ongoing, Mr. Drozdov says, but already Rozkvit and other organizations and individuals interested in the mission are coalescing around some core values. Those include transparency, inclusive decision-making, lifelong education, and “circularity” – which Mr. Drozdov defines as economic and societal development based on “ecological responsibility.”

A key feature of this new Ukraine – and a sharp break from models of the past, he says – will be a sense of “responsibility for the future” that elevates priorities like reducing the carbon footprint and reusing (rather than relegating to a landfill) the rubble of Russia’s war.

“We are discussing a big shift as we re-imagine Ukraine’s cities,” he says. He foresees a transition “from a development model oriented to what was beautiful but of short-term benefit,” to one that emphasizes durability, careful use of natural resources, “and the needs and priorities of a new Ukrainian society we can see around us every day.”

A co-founder of the Kharkiv School of Architecture, which was relocated to Lviv in western Ukraine because of the war, Mr. Drozdov says this national effort to re-imagine a postwar Ukraine is finding support not just outside the country – from across Europe and the United States – but from the Ukrainian government as well.

“The government we have now is a new team, completely changed in their discourse from what we heard in the past,” he says. “It’s a new generation of bureaucrats that very much understands the importance of establishing a new set of values ... and that our transformation as a country is also about civilizational transformation.”

Kirsty Wigglesworth/Reuters

Ihor Terehov, mayor of Kharkiv, speaks during the session entitled "Restoring Livelihoods – From Planning to Reconstruction" on the second day of the Ukraine Recovery Conference in London, June 22, 2023.

Still, Ukrainians are quick to acknowledge the importance of international support for and solidarity with their national rebuilding efforts, both physical and spiritual.

This summer, the European Union unveiled a $60 billion Ukraine recovery plan aimed at rebuilding a “prosperous and democratic” Ukraine and leveraging private sector investment in the reconstruction.

The University of Stockholm’s business school is joining Rozkvit in organizing a six-month seminar beginning in the fall on “Rethinking Ukraine’s Cities.”

USAID, the U.S. government’s development agency, established a Forged Together program that works with Ukrainian volunteer groups on projects aimed at healing war wounds and building national resilience.

Lessons from Northern Ireland

In June, the Washington-based Women’s Democracy Network organized a weeklong visit to Belfast for Ukrainian women in municipal government to learn about the role women played in the Northern Ireland capital’s post-conflict rebuilding project.

Ms. Pikula of the Mariupol City Council was part of the Ukrainian group.

“The war they experienced in Northern Ireland and our war are absolutely different, but we learned how the consequences for women of these conflicts are in many ways very similar,” she says. As one example, she notes that as a consequence of both wars, more women have become the sole head of their family and many families’ strongest pillar for dealing with war’s traumas.

Moreover, she says the Belfast visit reinforced her perspective that even a city’s physical reconstruction must be carried out “by women and for women” much more than in the past.

“Establishing trust in our vision for reconstruction will be such an important part of our ability to attract our citizens back to cities like Mariupol,” Ms. Pikula says. “As half of Ukraine’s population, women want to be sure that our cities will be rebuilt with their needs and dreams in mind.”

Still, despite all the lofty talk of international solidarity and a national reconstruction project infused with values, Rozkvit’s Mr. Drozdov says Ukraine’s “renaissance” as a new 21st-century society is not a sure thing.

One reason for his caution: He senses a certain “inertia” setting in as the war drags on, with the conflict’s daily violence and uncertainties taking a toll on hopes for the future. Another worry he cites is an accelerating “brain drain,” especially among the talented young people who would be counted on to take part in re-imagining their country’s future.

Too many bright, knowledgeable Ukrainians are leaving behind the insecurity of war to pursue professional goals elsewhere, he says.

But what keeps him optimistic about prospects for the new Ukraine he envisions is the rapid progress he says the country has made over the last decade – and what that tells him about a society that is ready to become something new.

“As we could see before this war, Ukrainians are able to learn very fast, evolve with high speed, and absorb new knowledge and embrace new thinking,” he says. “Now in the war, our army shows us these same qualities every day.”

It’s the vitality and resilience of those qualities that leave the Kharkiv architect confident in the “blossoming” of a new and better Ukraine from the destruction and trauma of war.

Oleksandr Naselenko supported reporting for this story.

Thousands of 4-year-olds donning tiny backpacks and shy smiles will be entering classrooms this year courtesy of universal prekindergarten programs gaining steam – and funding – across the United States.

Pre-K is a milestone that child development experts say better prepares little learners for the next stages of school, and one that should be available to all children. 

“They learn their letters. They learn their numbers. They learn how to be good friends. They learn how to share – those really important social-emotional pieces that set them up for success going forward,” says Danielle Ewen, a consultant for the Alliance for Early Success, which works with early childhood policy advocates at the state level.

But launching a universal pre-K program – which, in theory, is free and accessible for all children in the eligible age group – isn’t as easy as A-B-C. States expanding access have been battling labor shortages, enrollment challenges, and, in at least one case, lawsuits.

Still, for every hiccup, there are grateful parents. Elizabeth Rexroad says she watched her 4-year-old son blossom into an inquisitive boy who started asking more questions, comparing and contrasting things, and making friends during prekindergarten last year. 

She’s confident her son, now 5, is ready for kindergarten and beyond, thanks to his pre-K teacher’s special skill set.

“There are people that have spent their careers perfecting the craft of educating a 4-year-old,” says Ms. Rexroad, who lives in Bridgeport, West Virginia.

Many states have some form of state-funded prekindergarten, though it’s often limited to children who meet certain eligibility criteria. West Virginia was an early pioneer in providing universal prekindergarten – debuting its program in 2002, with full implementation a decade later. Since then, other U.S. states have either taken the plunge or inched their way toward offering the all-access program.

Progress has been sluggish in some of those states. But a fresh wave of expansion is underway following universal pre-K laws passed recently in California, Colorado, New Mexico, and Hawaii, according to the latest State of Preschool report from the National Institute for Early Education Research at Rutgers University. The governors of Michigan and New Jersey have also voiced support for increased funding to make universal pre-K possible.

The burst of activity comes despite the demise of President Joe Biden’s Build Back Better bill, which included federal funding for universal pre-K. That puts the onus back on states.

“Maybe the excitement and promise of that may have helped start this new wave, or, alternatively, it’s the same political force,” says Steve Barnett, founding director of the National Institute for Early Education Research.

Slowly growing 

If an early adopter state like West Virginia is any indication, it can take years before pre-K is ingrained in the culture of the education landscape.

Melissa Sherfinski, an associate professor of early childhood and elementary education at West Virginia University, sees the learning curve even in her own collegiate-level classroom. She often finds that her students – many of whom were born and raised in the state – don’t know much, if anything, about the universal pre-K program.

“It’s like a generational thing where it’s slowly growing, and it will, I think, eventually take hold, as long as we can keep it,” she says.

The feedback she hears from parents who have sent their children to pre-K tends to be positive, though. 

John Haeger/Standard-Speaker/AP

Leo Schoeneberger listens as Republican State Sen. David Argall reads a book during a tour of prekindergarten classrooms in Coaldale, Pennsylvania, in 2022. U.S. states, including Pennsylvania, are adding more to their budgets for pre-K programs, though not all have universal pre-K.

Ms. Rexroad is an example. Aside from the academic boost for her son, she says universal pre-K saved her family about $900 a month in child care, allowing her to go back to school and her husband to change jobs. They plan to send their daughter to pre-K when she’s eligible in a year.

“I cannot perceive any potential drawbacks,” she says.

Ups and downs in Colorado

Colorado leaders expect the state’s universal pre-K program, launching this year, will provide similar academic and economic benefits. The guaranteed free 15 hours per week of pre-K for 4-year-olds is projected to save Colorado families $6,000 yearly.

“Colorado is an expensive state to live in,” says Dawn Odean, director of the state’s universal preschool program. “And so this is one way that we can help support families economically as well as get to higher child outcomes.”

As of early August, Colorado had matched 39,849 children with a pre-K provider, representing 61% of all eligible 4-year-olds, according to a statement from Democratic Gov. Jared Polis’ office.

Four-year-olds from low-income households who have at least one other qualifying factor, such as a learning disability, are eligible for 30 hours of free pre-K per week. Three-year-olds with similar qualifying factors can also apply, though their acceptance depends on funding availability.

“The Governor is interested in expanding universal coverage to 18 hours ... for all children, while still providing full day coverage for all students who are low-income and have certain qualifying factors,” a spokesperson wrote in an email.

Colorado’s universal pre-K program – fueled by a new tax on electronic cigarettes and increased taxes on other tobacco products – is a mixed-delivery system. That means parents can choose to send their child to a pre-K program in a licensed community, home, or school setting.

Rebecca Gartman, executive director of Wings Early Childhood Center in Pagosa Springs, Colorado, expects to serve 10 4-year-olds this fall and more next year. 

Some parents had trouble navigating the state’s application portal or didn’t understand how many hours of free pre-K their child was eligible to receive, she says. And from a provider perspective, Ms. Gartman says she worries the state could change its pre-K curriculum standards, affecting how the nature-based learning center operates.

Overall, though, she sees universal pre-K providing more opportunity for her southwest Colorado town, which is known for its hot springs but also has a large wage gap. Wings Early Childhood Center recently began an expansion project that will add preschool rooms.

“What we’re hoping is that we grow our child care facilities all through Pagosa and hope to bring in younger families moving in so that they can support our working community,” she says.

Perrine Monnet, a policy analyst with the Colorado-based Bell Policy Center, says universal pre-K addresses a need in a state where child care gobbles up nearly 30% of families’ median household income. Even so, she says, The Bell Policy Center, a nonprofit that supports policies that advocate for economic mobility, will be examining the enrollment data once it’s made available.

“In what parts of Colorado do we have a lot of extra [universal pre-K] seats? Where in Colorado are we seeing those get filled? And what’s the reasoning behind that?” she says.

The rollout of the program hasn’t been without its challenges, though. The state is already facing two lawsuits related to its universal pre-K program. 

One was filed by several school districts that argue the structure prevents them from providing services to students with disabilities. The other comes from the Archdiocese of Denver, which operates a preschool program and had wanted to participate in the universal pre-K opportunity. But the lawsuit alleges the universal program’s nondiscrimination requirements – particularly pertaining to religious affiliation, sexual orientation, and gender identity – violate the church’s First Amendment rights.

“Invite parents in”

Farther west, California will be starting the second year of its transitional kindergarten (TK) program, which serves 4-year-olds. The program is gradually expanding based on children’s birthdates until it’s fully ramped up by the 2025-2026 school year. At that point, officials with Early Edge California, a nonprofit that advocated for the state’s TK program, expect it to serve more than 300,000 children.

Based on those projections, the Learning Policy Institute estimates California will need to hire upward of 15,600 lead TK teachers – a tall order in a tight labor market. 

States expanding pre-K programs should consider ways to provide scholarships for aspiring pre-K teachers, who don’t always receive the respect or compensation they deserve, says Pamela Epley, vice president of academic affairs for the Erikson Institute, an independent graduate school for early childhood education. 

“Some of those stigmas still remain, and, coupled with low pay, it’s hard to attract people into the field,” she says.

Early Edge leaders acknowledge that staffing TK has been a trouble spot in certain places, but in an email wrote that districts “can get creative in how they offer it if demand is low.”

But the recruitment challenge isn’t limited to the TK workforce. The Los Angeles Times reports that TK’s existence has spurred a recruitment race for the state’s prospective students. For some parents, it’s a choice between moving their child from another preschool provider to the free TK program, which is run by local public school districts. The school district can choose whether to offer full-day or half-day TK.

Patricia Lozano, executive director of Early Edge California, says spreading awareness about TK will be key as the state tries to reach more families – particularly those who don’t qualify for any subsidies for their children to attend other preschool programs, such as Head Start.

“California is trying to support parent choice as much as possible,” she says. “And I think it’s communication – just really letting parents know about it.”

Dr. Barnett says Rutgers’ early education institute is researching parent decision-making because underenrollment remains an issue in many places. In New Jersey, for instance, communities with similar demographics sometimes have very different pre-K enrollment trends, he says, signaling that barriers such as complicated sign-up processes or lack of transportation may exist.

“You have to invite parents in and design your programs so that they’re welcoming and culturally appropriate,” he says, adding that convenience is also key. “You either provide transportation, or there are ways for them to get their kids there.”

Dr. Epley of the Erikson Institute says she’s hopeful universal pre-K programs will live up to their definition by one day reaching all eligible children. But that will require more than just a new law.

“Saying it and having it is not the same thing as effectively implementing it,” she says.

The “Star Wars” universe has always centered on rebellion. The series is defined by the defection of Anakin Skywalker from the Jedi order, transforming him into Darth Vader, then by the exploits of his rebellious children to overthrow the galactic empire he helped create.

Yet as the iconic interstellar conflict branches out through live action and animated incarnations, what represents right, wrong, and revolt isn’t so linear. “The Mandalorian” made a hero of a bounty hunter, while “Andor” followed a rebel who was perfectly happy to let the Empire-defeating ends justify the often-murky means.

This is where we find the scene-stealing, light saber-wielding Ahsoka Tano, whose own series began streaming on Disney+ this week.

Ahsoka, played by Rosario Dawson, was a star during cameos on “The Mandalorian” and “The Book of Boba Fett.” “Ahsoka” picks up where her appearance on “The Mandalorian” left off, an episode that began with Ms. Dawson’s character working against the Mandalorian before they team up to free a heavily guarded enclave. 

Yet the thematic center of “Ahsoka” seems to come more from a brief scene in “The Book of Boba Fett,” in which she speaks with Luke Skywalker.

Suzanne Tenner / Lucasfilm Ltd.

Series creator Dave Filoni (left) and star Rosario Dawson talk on the set of ”Ahsoka.”

“Sometimes the student guides the master,” Ahsoka tells him.

The comment could be applicable to the entire “Star Wars” franchise, where apprenticeships are chronically messy things. The first episode of “Ahsoka” – conspicuously named “Master and Apprentice” – promises more to come.

Here, the focus is on Ahsoka’s past and present – her apprenticeship with Anakin before he became Darth Vader, and the challenges of her own wayward student, Sabine Wren. In the failings of Ahsoka, whose inclination is to work as a lone wolf, we see the failings of her former teacher and the burdens they present.

“Warrior. Outcast. Rebel. Jedi.” reads the tagline for the “Ahsoka” teaser trailer – a tagline that could have been attributed to the Skywalker-turned-Sith Lord.

Ahsoka’s own rebellion – her defection from the Jedi order – is chronicled in the animated “Clone Wars” series. “Ahsoka” picks up with the story of how the Jedi diverges from her old master. Where Anakin chose the dark side, Ahsoka remains faithful to justice – albeit on her own terms.

The first episode begins with a nostalgic crawl of red letters, followed by an opening sequence to remind fans of the trademark terror of the dark side. Ahsoka stakes her claim to her own series with a dazzling display of white-hot swordplay. By the time the series dashes into its second episode, the stakes facing the galaxy, post-Empire, are emerging. (The series is set after the events of “Return of the Jedi.”)

The fact that Ahsoka has her own series at all has a sniff of rebellion about it. Many fans rejected the character during her appearances in the animated “Clone Wars.” But Ms. Dawson’s live-action efforts in “The Mandalorian” and “Boba Fett” have infused the character with a tangible strength.

It is a victory for more than just the “Star Wars” character. In the final “Star Wars” screen trilogy, the character of Finn, played by Black actor John Boyega, was attacked by racist online commentary. Much the same happened when Rose Tico, a character played by Asian American actress Kellie Marie Tran, was introduced. Despite creators’ commitment to slicing through stereotypes and ill-natured comments, there are times when people of color have to endure being a part of the “Star Wars” universe.

In that regard, a Latina’s top billing in “Ahsoka” perhaps marks another revolution. She is a reminder that rebellion is complicated, not just for characters balancing the nuances of right and wrong, but for creators trying to do the same. 

AP

People queue to cast votes at a polling station in Kwekwe, Zimbabwe, Aug. 23.

When people in a struggling democracy demand free and fair elections, they sometimes feel the wrath of the ruling regime and its security forces. In Zimbabwe, where past elections saw both intimidation and ballot fraud, many decided to try a different approach during the Aug. 23-24 vote for president and Parliament. They displayed a determined stillness.

“For us this is about our right,” Brighton Goko told the Daily Maverick, a South African newspaper, after casting his ballot at 3 a.m. “If it means us sleeping on the queue to cast our votes and have our voice heard, so be it.”

A first-time voter, Mr. Goko was one of many Zimbabweans who spent long hours outside polling stations – even at night – waiting for ballots to arrive. Their persistence shows what can happen when people calmly refuse to consent to fear, cynicism, and dishonesty. Election officials were forced to allow a second day of voting in 40 opposition strongholds to correct the highly suspicious delays.

It may yet take days for the election results to be known. Early counts show a close race between the main opposition candidate, Nelson Chamisa, and President Emmerson Mnangagwa, whose ZANU-PF party has been in power since the nation’s independence in 1980.

Whatever the outcome, Zimbabwe’s election reflects a maturing in the minds of citizens across Africa to cling to democratic values – even where the mechanics of elections remain vulnerable to manipulation. One key to that growth, particularly among younger generations, is what Iranian dissident Ramin Jahanbegloo has called “the seamless convergence of nonviolence and politics” – a recognition, in other words, that democracy at its root demands peaceful means to build and sustain it.

Electoral shenanigans often reveal the weakness of ruling parties. Since 1998, when an opposition coalition first showed then-President Robert Mugabe to be vulnerable at the polls, ZANU-PF has resorted to underhanded electoral tactics familiar in many African countries: manipulated voter rolls and stuffed ballot boxes, stacked security forces outside polling stations, and arbitrary arrests of civil society election monitors.

Those tricks don’t seem to be working as well these days. Participation in Zimbabwe’s election was robust. An Afrobarometer poll prior to the vote showed that 72% of Zimbabweans felt confident that their vote mattered. One reason for their certainty may be a broader trend in Africa. In the past decade, 25 new presidents have come from opposition parties.

For the first time in history, notes Zachariah Mampilly, an expert in nonviolence at the City University of New York, African youth have reason to trust that democracy is a reliable alternative to violence in bringing change. “Africa’s rebellious young people are better understood as harbingers of the continent’s democratic future,” he wrote in Foreign Affairs in 2021. “Behind the scenes, youth protest movements are laying the groundwork for eventual transitions, prioritizing the long, hard work of building support for democracy.”

The ongoing riddle for many African countries is how to move beyond political parties or individual leaders who perpetuate their rule through undemocratic means. Zimbabweans may have an answer. Patient, calm persistence in the pursuit of honest government can bring peaceful change.