Politically correct (coming soon)

When I was a kid, I remember playing with banknotes. There were five thousand roubles, fifty thousand, even a hundred thousand. I was impressed by how much money I had! My grandmother tried to explain why we had so much money. She talked about using special tickets to buy food and traveling to Moscow for things like salami or chocolates.

 

I also remember wrapping myself in a Znamya and running through our neighbors’ yards. Everyone laughed and called me rebellious.

I was born while one of the world's most powerful countries was falling apart.

My parents were barely more than children themselves, jobless and carrying the weight of a shattered nation. I went through the internat, experienced the failures of social services, and knew that by age 18, I would be on my own with nothing but my mind to rely on.

 

People always told me, “Don’t think about politics! That’s not our concern.” But politics always seemed to follow me. Once, as a year-group representative for 125 students, I was told to ask them to bring their voting lists. Nearly 80 percent complied immediately. I refused... and was immediately marked for expulsion. The dean shouted that my mind had been brainwashed by Americans. I remember shouting back, 'You are killing our future!’

 

I have always known I could not live without freedom and democracy, which ultimately motivated my decision to relocate. Though I am Italian, the word “European” fits me best.

From this perspective, I see my mother country at war—tragically, a conflict within itself. I witness the fragmentation of its people; their spirits diminished and their minds manipulated. I see cemeteries filled with the young and my city facing constant bombardment. I see the pain… I feel the pain…

Having found refuge in Europe, I now observe a continent at a different crossroads. It balances between declining power and the illusion of a perfect world—comfortable and principled, yet struggling with outdated structures while the world has grown too complex for such limitations. Without a unified vision, it hesitates, risking a repetition of past mistakes. It is notable that Lenin wrote “Imperialism, the Highest Stage of Capitalism” during the height of the World War…

The international order appears absent. Power alone seems to govern, making it difficult to find stability or hope.

 

Are we losing our sense of humanity? Can we find it again when the world feels out of balance? Are our economies more important than our freedom? Should we tolerate intolerance?
Can we accept that the world has changed, or must we cling to old traditions? Should the young be trapped by outdated systems? Do we learn to protect ourselves, or give in to oppression?
Should we keep talking about inequality, or focus on the practical: city planning, healthcare, and the hard truth that we are still subject to nature’s laws? Should we only care about our own small world?

 

Where do I stand? What do I value?
What about you? What do you feel?