In November 2020, Zmicer Waynowski was detained at one of the many rallies held in Belarus after the presidential elections. Together with millions of other Belarusians, he exercised his right for freedom of expression and peaceful assembly and stood for justice against the electoral fraud and state’s lawlessness. Zmicer was sentenced to 13 days of imprisonment under the infamous article 23.34 (“Participating in unauthorized mass events”). On being released and immediately facing further persecution, Zmicer left the country and applied for political asylum in Lublin.
In the course of two years, more than 50,000 of the photographer’s fellow citizens were forced into immigration and moved to Poland. In February 2022, after Russia’s attack on Ukraine, a wave of immigrants from Belarus was joined by millions of Ukrainians.
Upon arrival to a new, safer place refugees encounter numerous problems related to financial uncertainty, communication difficulties, culture gap, and certainly bureaucracy. One can hardly get through the red tape without the support of local officials who empathize with the newcomers and share their uneasy emotional state.
“In Our Shoes” is an attempt to invite Lubliners to literally experience what it feels like to be in a refugee’s shoes in an alien country—trying to find one’s balance on an uncomfortable shaky stool with one leg missing.
“I came up with the stool concept for my photography project somewhat automatically,” Waynowski recalls, “because this is the first phrase you hear when attending an immigration office: ‘Please, sit down!’ And it is when sitting on a chair that you take part in different formal conversations about your status, documents you need to submit, sign, or wait for. On some days, nervously clenching the stool, you put every effort to decipher the office worker’s emotions and understatements. On other days, you feel helpless and are almost about to lose… balance, equilibrium, hope…
Asking Lubliners to try themselves in our shoes, I spotted various reactions. I saw people getting seated on a two-legged stool almost professionally, as if it does not really matter how hard it could be. I also saw those who, just like me, were struggling to remain balanced.
But whatever stool trick my project participants chose, I am grateful to every empathetic Lubliner for what they have been doing for us. In the end, I am lucky to be where I am and happy to have met people who sincerely care for the less privileged ones—less privileged but still full of determination to move on.”