Iryna Yeremenko, her husband, Andrii Yeremenko, and their 11-year-old son, Illya, from Donetsk, Ukraine, came to the United States in June. The family, who are currently living in Lawrence with a friend, are seeking political asylum as they are fearful for their lives if sent back to the political unrest in Ukraine. Nick Krug/Journal-World Photo

Iryna Yeromenko and her family are staying with a friend in Lawrence, not legally allowed to work and earn money, and unsure of their future.

The situation is not ideal, she said, but she’s afraid of returning home to Ukraine.

“At least we are alive, and nobody’s threatening us,” Yeromenko said.

Yeromenko, her husband, Andrii Yeromenko, and their 11-year-old son, Illya, came to Lawrence in June for summer vacation. Instead of flying home as planned in August, they applied for political asylum in hopes of staying in the United States permanently.

“We came here thinking that by the time the summer’s over … everything will settle down,” Iryna Yeromenko said. “But it just got even worse.”

Political unrest and violence have been rampant since the Ukrainian Revolution broke out earlier this year, pitting pro-Russian rebels against government forces in eastern Ukraine. In the Yeromenkos’ home city of Donetsk, shelling has killed innocent residents even through a cease-fire agreement, and the city’s airport has been under siege. Ukrainian civilians have reportedly been kidnapped, tortured and killed by rebels.

Until this summer the Yeromenkos ran the largest language school in Donetsk. Iryna said the school, where she taught English, had more than 500 students of all ages and that she and her husband were well-known in town.

Especially with her strong ties to Westerners — socially and through the school, her political beliefs and also being Jewish — Iryna said she fears for her family’s lives. Iryna said she and her family started receiving threats, and people armed with guns showed up and roamed through their school.

“They wanted us to report to their offices, which means that you come there and never come back,” she said.

They pulled Illya out of school and hid him at his grandparents’ apartment, where he stayed inside for several weeks. Seeking protection from supposed authorities is not an option, she said, because corruption is everywhere. She said returning to another city in Ukraine is not an option, either.

“They actually told me ‘We have long hands and we’re going to find you,'” she said.

The Yeromenkos are staying with the family of Lawrence resident Heather Moise, who met Iryna when she was stationed in Ukraine with the Peace Corps about 15 years ago. Iryna was one of the local workers on a Peace Corps peer education program for HIV/AIDS.

The two friends stayed in touch, each traveling to visit the other a few times through the years.

As they did last summer, the Moises and the Yeromenkos traveled together this summer, and Illya went to summer camp. While here, though, the situation back home deteriorated to the point where the Yeromenkos made the difficult decision to close their school.

They are now waiting on an interview to be scheduled with U.S. Citizenship and Immigration Services and, ultimately, to find out whether they are granted asylum.

If they are allowed to stay, she said, their plan would be to “start living” again,” Iryna said. Andrii could find a job to pay for her to continue her education at Kansas University and eventually work herself. If they can’t get asylum, she said, they aren’t sure what they will do and “don’t want to think about it.”

Hopefully they won’t have to, Andrii said. “We are optimists.”