On a sunny afternoon on 7 August, UNHCR brought together Professor of Communication Studies Dr Triin Vihalemm, Pärnu Integration Coordinator Iryna Zotovych, mathematics teacher Celal Yildirim and university student Shorok Alsuleiman on the Cultural Diversity Stage at Estonia’s annual Opinion Festival in Paide to discuss what identity and belonging mean in the context of forced displacement.
Throughout the discussion, personal stories, professional experience and academic insights converged around a common theme: a sense of belonging is not created by leaving the past behind, but by having the opportunity to build a future upon it.
A changing identity
Shorok arrived in Estonia from Syria at the age of 16.
“I feel like an Estonian, but my childhood is Syrian, Arab,” she explains. “I was born, raised and lived in Syria, but I had to leave because of the war. I fled to Türkiye and lived there. I speak Turkish as well and I really like Turkish culture. When I arrived in Estonia, I felt that now it was peaceful. I could build my life and do many things.”
For her, identity is not tied to a single country or culture. Her childhood in Syria, the years she spent in Türkiye and her transition into adulthood in Estonia all form part of who she is today.
Celal arrived in Estonia at a very different stage of life. He already had a family, a career and a strong sense of belonging. Asked whether he feels Turkish, Kurdish or Estonian today, his answer is simple:
“I can say that I am still a human being. It does not matter who you are, whether you are Turkish, Kurdish or Estonian.”
According to Celal, moving to Estonia did not erase his previous identity. “I came here with my culture. And because learning lasts a lifetime, I kept learning,” he says. “I learned how to overcome my prejudices.”
One of those prejudices concerned Estonians themselves.
“When I came to Estonia, I looked up what Estonians were like. It said they were reserved and cold people. But when I started talking to people, I realised they are very good people.”
Iryna arrived in Estonia 15 years ago, long before the full-scale war in Ukraine. At the time, around 5,000 Ukrainian citizens lived in Estonia. Today, that number has grown to tens of thousands. As Pärnu’s Integration Coordinator, she sees that Ukrainians often adapt faster today than she did when she first arrived, but the war has also made preserving culture and identity even more important.
“When people come to a foreign country and start protecting their culture, it becomes a safe place for them,” she says. “A place they can come to and feel protected. And in today’s situation, that feeling is very important.”
According to Professor Triin Vihalemm, integration does not mean replacing one identity with another. Rather, a sense of belonging develops when people are able to use their experiences, knowledge and skills in a new society and feel that they are valued.
Changing roles
Forced displacement does not only affect identity. It often changes a person’s role within their family, community and society.
Most of the refugees arriving from Ukraine were women and children. Many suddenly found themselves having to cope alone with practical challenges while knowing that loved ones remained in a war zone.
“When there is nobody beside you and you feel completely alone, while at the same time your home has been bombed, your family is no longer whole and your husband is in danger, what do you do?” Iryna asks. “The pressure comes from every direction. It is incredibly difficult.”
Over time, many people found support in one another.
“They started gathering, meeting, talking and sharing their worries and everything that was happening in their lives. They realised they were no longer alone. That is a very important moment because they understand that they can cope together.”
For Shorok, arriving in Estonia meant an opportunity to take on entirely new roles and shape a future that would not have been possible because of war.
“Estonia gave us so many opportunities, so many opportunities,” she says. “We came here and everyone helped us.”
Together with her parents and siblings, she had to learn a new language, adapt to a new education system and start over. Today, Shorok studies at the Estonian University of Life Sciences, while her sister has graduated from Tallinn University.
“I am very happy that I have been able to do so many things here in Estonia,” she says. “In war, nobody can give people opportunities. Everyone’s goal is simply to survive.”
Over the years, Celal’s life in Estonia has taken on new dimensions. Alongside his work as a mathematics teacher, he plays an active role in building bridges between communities and supporting integration.
Through the NGO Satu, he has helped bring together people from different backgrounds and create opportunities for encounters that might otherwise never happen. In one project, volunteers visited elderly people living alone. This was how Celal met 84-year-old Linda.
“Her relatives had told her not to meet that Turkish man,” he recalls laughing “But Linda decided she wanted to meet anyway.”
The project ended long ago, but their friendship remains.
“We call her our grandmother because we cannot go back to Türkiye. My children call Linda their grandmother.”
Professor Triin Vihalemm notes that successful adaptation depends on more than language skills or formal support services. Equally important are the skills that help people build relationships, solve problems and navigate change.
“Language skills are important, but they are not the only thing,” she explains. “These stories showed the importance of communication skills, learning skills, problem-solving skills and the ability to receive feedback.”
Such skills become especially important when people are rebuilding their lives and adapting in their new roles.
“The stronger these general skills are, the more successful language learning and adaptation can be,” she says.
According to Vihalemm, people need to recognise not only what they already know, but also what they are capable of learning and contributing to a new environment. The ability to adapt while drawing on previous experiences helps people find their place in a new society
Community as a bridge
Throughout the discussion, the importance of community emerged repeatedly. All panelists stressed that belonging to a community does not stand in the way of integration. In many cases, it makes integration possible.
Celal does not see community as the opposite of integration. In his view, its most important purpose is to help people adapt.
“Adaptation is the main goal of our community,” he says. “Sometimes people simply do not know how to adapt. A community can support them in that.”
He explains that from the very beginning they were taught to see their new country as home.
“If we live in another country, then that is our new homeland. We truly see it that way. It is our homeland because this is where we live now.”
For that reason, the community organises events that bring Estonians and newcomers together while introducing people to Estonian culture and traditions.
“When you know the culture and respect the culture, you eventually adapt and live better,” says Celal. “I do not think community is a threat. If people believe in adaptation, it works.”
Iryna has observed a similar transformation in Pärnu. What began as support networks created out of necessity have gradually evolved into broader community spaces.
“At first there was only the Ukrainian Centre, and people came because they needed help,” she says. “Now we learn from one another, and everyone can take part, regardless of where they come from.”
According to her, people are no longer only looking for support. Increasingly, they want to better understand the society they have become part of. A community survey showed that people were most interested not in preserving their own culture, but in learning about Estonian life.
“What surprised me most was that people wanted to know how an ordinary Estonian lives,” she says. “What their traditions are, what they do and what interests them.”
At the same time, Iryna sees communities enriching the host society as well.
“We no longer talk only about how to support Ukrainians,” she says. “We talk more about how Ukrainians themselves can contribute to the development of Pärnu or Estonia. New people arrive with new perspectives and experiences, and they can share them.”
For younger people, community boundaries can be even more fluid. Shorok says she has relatively few Arab or Estonian friends in Estonia. Instead, her social circle includes people from many different backgrounds.
“My friends are very diverse. Turks, Arabs, Estonians and many others,” she says. “I cannot say that I have only Estonian friends or only Arab friends.”
At times, living between several worlds can be challenging.
“For my Arab friends, I am too Estonian. For Estonians, I am too Arab,” she says. “I cannot decide whether I am Estonian or Arab.”
Yet Estonia is unquestionably home.
“I have Estonian citizenship now and I am very proud of it. Today I can say that I am Estonian.”
According to Professor Vihalemm, research shows that community ties and connections with local people are not mutually exclusive.
On the contrary, they complement each other. While communities provide safety and support, relationships with members of the host society help build trust, improve language skills and create opportunities for participation.
The opportunity to dream
At the end of the discussion, participants were asked what a successfully rebuilt life means to them.
Shorok’s answer was straightforward:
“I see my future in Estonia. All of my future plans are in Estonia.”
For Iryna, rebuilding a life means something equally simple and equally important.
“It is a feeling of safety. The possibility to live, to work, to study, to dream and to make plans.”
Celal’s answer brought the conversation back to human connections. He recalled how, after moving to Estonia, his family waited for neighbours to come and welcome them, as was customary in his home country. When that did not happen, he decided to take the initiative himself.
“It was Christmas and I thought: I need to do something. I need to get to know them,” he said. He bought small gifts, knocked on his neighbours’ doors and introduced himself. “It went very well and we became friends.”
In his view, this shows that it is not difficult to become friends with Estonians, and that a sense of belonging is often built through small, everyday interactions.
According to Professor Vihalemm, the stories shared by all the panelists highlighted different pathways to rebuilding a life in a new country. For some, it means pursuing education. For others, helping fellow community members or building new social networks. What they all have in common is the opportunity to contribute, to belong and to look ahead.
The stories shared in Paide served as a reminder that forced displacement affects every aspect of a person’s life. Roles change, relationships evolve and identities are reshaped. Yet with safety, opportunity and human connection, something new can emerge: not just a new life, but a renewed sense of belonging.
