

Across Europe today, conversations about migration, security, identity, and borders have become increasingly complex and emotionally charged. In these conversations, it is dangerously easy to divide the world into “us” and “them.” A person with a life, a history, and a family becomes reduced to a label: “migrant,” “refugee,” “foreigner.”
This is how othering works. It is a subtle but powerful process through which we distance those we perceive as different. While it often appears as a political issue, othering is deeply social and educational. Prejudices are not formed only in parliaments — they are shaped in communities, media narratives, and everyday conversations.
The Open EU project was born as a response to this challenge. It is grounded in a simple yet transformative belief: if fear and stereotypes spread through narratives, then empathy and solidarity can also be built through stories.
Adult education plays a crucial role here. Adults enter learning spaces with already-formed opinions, lived experiences, and sometimes unresolved fears. Yet adults are also capable of profound reflection and change — if safe spaces for dialogue are created. Storytelling becomes the bridge. It allows transformation to begin not through confrontation, but through listening.
When the “Other” Is You
For the Civic Organisation Misto Aktyvnyh Gromadan (MAG), this topic is not theoretical. The head of the organisation, Alina Poznanska, experienced othering firsthand when she fled Ukraine with her two children and found herself in an entirely new community abroad.
She recalls:
“When we arrived, I felt completely lost. It didn’t feel like home. At times, I even had this painful feeling that we were betraying our country by being safe while others were not. I knew I was doing this for my children, but emotionally it was incredibly hard.”
A new language, unfamiliar systems of healthcare and education, everyday routines that suddenly required enormous effort — everything demanded resilience.
“It was difficult just to become part of the community. You’re physically there, but you don’t feel that you belong.”
The turning point came when her host suggested organizing a community meeting where Alina could share her story. The event also aimed to raise funds to purchase communication radios for a friend serving in the Ukrainian army.
“I simply told them about our life in Ukraine. That we had careers, plans, a full and beautiful life. That we didn’t leave to ‘look for something better.’ We left because we wanted our children to be alive. I explained what is happening in Ukraine and why this war continues. And I could see something changing in people’s eyes.”
Through her personal story, empathy emerged. The community offered support. What began as a fundraising event turned into something much deeper. Alina and her children were later invited to speak in schools, appear on television, and even present at the House of Representatives. She organized workshops on Ukrainian pysanka art, shared cultural traditions, and spoke about Ukraine’s history and resilience.
“After that first conversation, I felt accepted for the first time. We were no longer just ‘refugees.’ We were people with a story. And I realized that I can be a voice for my country wherever I am. I can share our culture, our traditions, our truth. That gave me a sense of purpose.”
Stories as Spaces of Belonging
Alina’s experience illustrates the journey from othering to belonging.
Belonging does not automatically happen simply because someone crosses a border or lives in a new place. It is a relational process. It requires mutual recognition. It requires being seen as a person rather than as a category.
Stories create that moment of recognition. They disrupt stereotypes by introducing complexity. They shift conversations from abstract debates to lived realities. They invite empathy instead of defensiveness.
In adult education, this is especially powerful. When people listen to personal experiences, they are less likely to react with fear or opposition. Instead, they begin to ask questions. They reflect. They reconsider assumptions they may have never consciously examined.
This is why storytelling within Open EU is not an “add-on” method. It is central to the educational approach. Stories allow difficult themes — migration, displacement, war, identity — to be explored in ways that preserve human dignity.
Education as a Response to Fear
We cannot eliminate fear from society. But we can transform the conditions in which fear operates.
When communities hear real stories, the tone of the conversation shifts. When adults are given safe spaces to engage in dialogue, tension can soften. When migrants and displaced persons speak in their own voices, they move from being objects of debate to subjects of their own narrative.
The journey from othering to belonging does not begin with policy change alone. It begins with human encounters.
Sometimes, one story is enough to replace “them” with “us.”