Author: Ellis Speagle

The room was far from quiet. The cacophony of drilling and hammering woke me in a daze. “What the fuck?” I exclaimed, still half-asleep, while my classmate sharing the adjacent bed snored just as loudly as the construction, though I was careful not to wake him while dressing myself in yesterday’s unwashed clothes. I am truly cursed by my own ingratitude, and cursed still further by the awareness of it—my complimentary hotel breakfast, on my complimentary class trip, courtesy of my complimentary tuition. I should welcome whatever inconvenience hotel maintenance sees fit to subject me to.

Like the cold eggs, or the displayed carcinogenic deli meats held at the same temperature. I ate them, of course, and when finished, set my plate aside, signaling to the waitstaff that it was ready for retrieval, while drinking my machine-dispensed “Café Latte,” whatever that means. I don’t speak German; however, Vanessa, the German translator hired by the university to mitigate the language barrier, speaks fluently.

Vanessa sat across from me at breakfast.

She is a kind woman. Contemplative and well-mannered, yet I sense it unwise to cross her.

Estar joined Vanessa and me soon after.

“Stary,” as she prefers to be addressed, is a faculty member at the university. Despite speaking with her for several hours on the first night of our trip, I failed to ask enough questions to know much about her. For the majority of that evening, I spoke at her. Perhaps that should not be considered a conversation since I wanted her to think highly of me, or, at the very least, not think too little of me—a theme consistent throughout my life, and evident in my relationship with Deborah, whose approval I desperately seek.

Professor Deborah Amos, or “Deb” as she permitted us to call her, is a short-haired, short-statured, long-time international journalist framed by her uncommonly striking glasses, one of many fashion commonalities we share, as we humorously discovered on the first day of our trip when we both arrived dressed in Canadian tuxedos.

Our final itinerary outlined the relevant tours our class was scheduled to participate in, along with the specific day each student was assigned a “Writer/Editor” role, yet neglected our unfashionable failure to coordinate outfits.

Every morning, each student is tasked with editing a blog post submitted the previous night by one of their peers. Tonight was my night, this was my morning, and, assisted by Vanessa, Stary, and Deb, who followed shortly behind Stary to the breakfast table, I edited the works of my three fellow classmates.

The carefully chosen words my peer produced, only comprehensible under the influence of the Café Latte, were subject to our criticism for over an hour, while I thought to myself, “Wow, this is good,” as I read his post. “I want to be like this. I want to write good too.” I want my linguistic gifts to be recognized and praised for their hyperspecificity, audacious yet cautionary, uncontested in my competition for greatness, with an unyielding aim for appreciation, revered by classmates whom I senior, awed by those who senior me, and produced effortlessly.

But this would require effort on my part, demonstrating what separates uninspired writing from the kind produced only through vulnerability. Perhaps my vulnerability, still undecided about whether to be continued, wary of the sharp knife of criticism, and sheltered behind sardonic wordplay, will extend beyond this blog post. Perhaps I should welcome whatever inconvenience this course sees fit to subject me to.

Perhaps I am trying too fucking hard in this effort, while not one joke I’ve written thus far has landed to the audience for whom they are written.

Or perhaps I should pardon my ribaldry.

This autumn, a Ukrainian man arriving in Germany may be required to provide prior-approval to flee from Putin’s war. He may also have to show that Ukraine permitted him to leave. When Russia invaded in 2022, the European Union activated temporary protections without requiring individual asylum decisions for mass displacement, designed to shelter people displaced by war. This new system the EU introduced now requires compliance of Ukrainian military obligations as a condition of temporary protection for certain newcomers. The Council’s decision states that protection “shall only be granted to those who satisfy their military obligations in Ukraine.” Two Ukrainians fleeing the same war could now face different requirements depending on when they arrived.

In September, after the EU extended temporary protection until March 2028, Germany clarified the requirement. By August 4th, Ukrainians who previously held and continuously maintained protection within the same member state generally retained it as the new condition took effect on August 5th; however, those arriving later must prove their satisfied military requirements or qualified exemption. The cutoff allows those already protected to remain without having to prove compliance. New arrivals, however, must provide evidence that earlier applicants were never asked to produce.

While Germany processes these applications under Section 24 of its Residence Act, a Ukrainian government-approved exit stamp may help establish compliance. For some applicants, obtaining protection may now depend on whether Ukrainian authorities will provide the documents Germany requires. That does not mean every asylum seeker must go through a process where document verification is equivalent to an asylum hearing. Whether this restriction would actually help Ukraine recruit more soldiers remains unclear.

Their argument is that the 2022 arrangement should not disable Ukraine’s ability to maintain readiness, which has been consistently difficult since the inception of the war. Military recruitment remains difficult and many Ukrainian men face restrictions on departure. This new arrangement seeks to ease that difficulty. As the European Parliamentary Research Service explains, “This aims to reconcile temporary protection with Ukraine’s defence needs.” It fails to establish how many additional soldiers Ukraine would gain. Contesting its legal basis, the Council has exceeded its authority under the Temporary Protection Directive, argues International-law scholar Meltem Ineli Ciger. Noncompliance with Ukrainian military obligations does not appear within Articles 4 and 5, governing extensions, or Article 28, governing excluded individuals. It is her opinion that the Council cannot add such a condition through an extension decision. Her assessment states, “This statutory concern remains unresolved in the adopted text.” The council might be limiting an eligible group rather than adding a new exclusion, argues Steve Peers, an EU-law professor. Identifying who falls within a protected category is legally different from excluding someone who already qualified. Additionally, the directive does not clearly settle how far the council may revise those categories. The distinction is made on supporting Ukraine’s defense in an equal way. Ukrainian conscription rules disproportionately affect men, which serves as an argument against this system as it furthers unequal treatment under European fundamental-rights law. Although refusing military service does not automatically qualify someone for refugee status. A newcomer seeking to join protected family members could face a condition those relatives never encountered, despite the directive’s family-unity safeguards.

Germany will determine how much these legal distinctions affect the people applying for protection. Officials must assess the documents provided to establish military compliance or exemption; however, those who cannot meet the new requirement can still pursue asylum. Applicants must fulfill the applicable legal standards, meaning spending considerably more time waiting without any guarantee of protection. There is concern about the question of whether Ukrainians who lack military records would obtain documentation from their government in a reasonable amount of time.

At the end of July, approximately 4.43 million people were granted temporary protection from the European Union, including around 1.29 million in Germany. Most of those already protected will remain unaffected by the new requirement; however, there is no indication of how many future applicants may be denied protection or even if the restriction would contribute to Ukraine’s military recruitment. A Ukrainian arriving today may have to satisfy military requirements that someone who arrived only months earlier never faced. There is no evidence establishing how many additional soldiers, if any, Ukraine would gain as a result of Germany changing who must provide that proof.

No Name, No Accountability

Mila was only fourteen years old when she was raped. After enjoying a cigarette with her classmates in Berlin, she left her friends early to return home. “I assume that’s when he spotted me,” she says. Mila was walking through the neighborhood when an adult man approached, restrained, and then assaulted her. The man was never caught. When a refugee is identified as a suspect or offender, German authorities can prosecute them under the same criminal law that applies to German citizens and other people within the country. However, a conviction does not always mean an offender can be deported after serving their sentence. A few notable challenges are missing travel documents and difficulties confirming a person’s nationality with their country of origin. Germany also cannot return a refugee to a country where they face a verifiable risk of torture or inhuman treatment, even if that refugee has committed a serious crime like sexual assault. As a result, an offender could potentially remain in Germany after being released.

Missing identity documents create another problem. Some refugees arrive without passports, leaving authorities to establish their identities through other methods, including information from guest registers at hostels or hotels where they may have stayed. “I worked at two hostels while in Germany and both played fast and loose with the documentation rules,” says Jessica Tutor. “While there were no sexual assaults while I was there [hostel], there were regular reports of women feeling ‘creeped out’ by the men who did long-term stays.”

A police inspection of a hostel on Wundtstraße on April 20, 2021 documented a case where officers visited and investigated the hotel after receiving an anonymous tip from the public. According to Berlin police, the owner had not documented his guests’ identities and could not provide specific information about them. Among the guests were individuals who police suspected had left their assigned refugee accommodation to flee a potential deportation. Officers also found a 26-year-old man who was staying in Germany unlawfully. Authorities closed the hotel and investigated the operator for violating the Residence Act. Although the police statement reported no sexual assault, the case provides an example of what can happen when guest records are incomplete: authorities may not know who is staying at a particular address.

Mila left her friends that evening with the normal expectation of making it home safely. At fourteen, she should not have been expected to remember every detail of her attacker’s face, especially after experiencing a violent assault. His identity remains unknown, and neither his appearance nor the neighborhood where the assault occurred can establish where he came from. For Mila, accountability would mean knowing the identity of the man who assaulted her. Years later, she still does not.

Ellis Speagle Reflection for 10/06

Germany deported 81 Afghan men in July who all had criminal convictions and, according to the German government, were legally required to leave. I actually had a hard time seeing the controversy at first. If someone commits a serious crime and has no legal right to stay in Germany, deporting them seems pretty reasonable except Germany sent them abroad. Even though Germany doesn’t recognize Taliban as Afghanistans “legitimate” government, it also factors in torture and executions and other abuses happening there but Germany needed the Taliban to accept these men back, and as a result, Qatar ended up acting as the intermediary for this problem. I still don’t think that means Germany should be forced to keep every Afghan who commits a serious crime but THAT answer feels too easy too. For my previous paper, I wrote about this example how someone is not convicted of rape or murder and the victim exhausted their legal options in Germany so what exactly is Germany supposed to do with that person? I can understand why German voters would be frustrated by an immigration system where deportation exists on paper but becomes almost impossible in reality, but then again, thats how it is for most governmental policies in my experience. There are Afghans who were told they could come to Germany and have instead been stuck waiting as the government processes these dilemas so some of the people were offered protection because their work or circumstances put them at risk after the Taliban takeover. Friedrich Merz did not hide that he wanted a tougher migration policy, still as immigration has become a huge political issue in Germany. Mainstream parties are trying to respond to voters who think migration has gone too far, and I can understand why Merz would not want the AfD to go after the issue but the Afghans who already received promises of immigration existed before that political calculation changed. The two articles also was interesting since both used the word “Afghans” as if it describes one immigration problem. The 81 men on the deportation flight and an Afghan waiting for Germany to honor their promise have to deal with the breakdown in buacracry.  I don’t really have a problem with Germany deciding that its immigration system needs limits and I also don’t think humanitarian protection means Germany loses the ability to deport anyone from Afghanistan forever. Perhaps “legally” it isn’t that simple. but politically it definitely isn’t. If a promise of protection only lasts until migration becomes unpopular, I’m not sure what that promise was worth in the first place. Its the same as “rights.” If a country can take them away at their convience then its not a right, its a privledge. This is what bothers me specifically about how governments can decide who gets what rights and who doesn’t. How are migrants expected to enter a country legally when the barriers of immigration are so complex that it makes it virtually impossble to do so within the bounds of the law.

No Paperwork, No Problem!

Mila was only fourteen years old when she was raped. After enjoying a cigarette with her classmates in Weichselplatz, a playground next to the Neukölln shipping canal, she left her friends early to return home. “I assume that’s when he spotted me,” she says. Mila was walking through the neighborhood when an adult man approached, restrained, and then assaulted her. She assumed he was a Syrian refugee based on his physical appearance and the borough’s demographics, including its large refugee population; however, this is conjecture and has not been verified. The man was never caught, and little was done by Berlin authorities to ensure accountability for the attack. Mila’s story serves as one example of the growing sexual violence within Germany’s own borders.

Unsolved assaults like Mila’s are common in Berlin’s police records. In 2025, police in the city documented 1,300+ cases of sexual assaults in particularly serious cases, according to state parliament preliminary data. Ninety-four of those cases occurred in the borough of Neukölln, the borough where Mila was walking through. Among the victims across Berlin, 268 were between 14 and 17, which was also Mila’s age group at the time of her attack. Police identified at least one suspect in almost 900 cases which left 425 with no suspect identified, roughly one third.

Refugee status does not exempt a refugee from prosecution or imprisonment; however, that does not mean there will be consequences. When a refugee is identified as a suspect or offender, German authorities can prosecute them under the same criminal law that applies to any normal German citizen or tourist; however, a conviction does not always mean an offender can be deported after serving their sentence. A few notable challenges are possible missing travel documents and difficulties confirming their nationality with the country of origin. Germany also cannot return a refugee to a country where they face a verifiable risk of torture or inhuman treatment(s), regardless if that refugee has committed a serious crime, like a sexual assault. As a result of this, an offender would potentially remain in Germany after being released. Another obstacle authorities encounter are establishing a refugee suspect’s identity when their identity documents are missing or nationality cannot be confirmed. Some refugees arrive without a passport, leaving authorities to establish their identity through other methods, like trying to locate someone via the information of a guest register at a hostel or hotel where that person may have stayed.

“I worked at two hostels while in Germany and both played fast and loose with the documentation rules,” says Jessica Tutor. “While there were no sexual assaults while I was there [hostel], there were regular reports of women feeling ‘creeped out’ by the men who did long-term stays.” A police inspection of a hostel on Wundtstrabe on April 20, 2021 documented a case where officers visited and investigated the hotel after receiving an anonymous tip from the public. According to Berlin police, the owner had not documented his guests identity and could not provide specific information about them. Amongst the guests were individuals who police suspected had left their assigned refugee accommodation to flee a potential deportation. Additionally, officers also found a 26-year-old man who was staying in Germany unlawfully. Authorities then had to close the hotel and investigate the operator for violating the Residence Act. Although the police statement reported no sexual assault, this case adds some context for how missing guest records would leave German authorities lacking information about who is staying where.

Women staying in a hostel should be able to expect that their concerns will be taken seriously and that staff know who else is staying there. Reports of men making guests uncomfortable do not establish criminal behavior; regardless, they deserve attention and recognition before anything more serious happens. Tutor comments further this concern as reports of potential crimes may be occurring in places where basic documentation was already being neglected. It is also important to note that there is no evidence that a hostel sheltered Mila’s attacker but by not keeping accurate guest records, it exposes flaws in a system especially where there seems a reasonable responsibility for businesses where strangers share bedrooms and bathrooms.

Mila left her friends that evening with the normal expectation to make it home safely. At fourteen, she should have not been expected to remember every detail of her attacker’s face to help with his identification, especially in the modern world full of technological advancements. Her attacker’s identity remains unknown, and neither his appearance nor the neighborhood can establish where he came from. For Mila, accountability would mean “knowing the identity of the man who assaulted her” so she can “no longer question the safety of her neighborhood; This is an answer she is still waiting for, and will remain waiting until there is effective change.

1. Mila, interview by Ellis Speagle on September 23rd, 2026. Surname requested to be withheld.
2. Berlin Senate Department for the Interior and Sport, response to written inquiry, January 20, 2026.
3. German Criminal Code (Strafgesetzbuch)
4. Jessica Tutor, interview by Ellis Speagle, September 23rd, 2026.
5. Polizei Berlin, “Gemeinsamer Einsatz mit dem Ordnungsamt. Hotel versiegelt”, April 21, 2021

REFLECTION

I didn’t expect the weapons and ammunition in Professor Amos’s article to be so old. Anton, one of the volunteers she interviewed, said the “dates of production stamped on the barrels of the machine gun [ … ] are older than my grandma.” These guns are being pointed at Russian drones guided by modern computers. The volunteers watch the drone come in on a small tablet and then try to hit it with a gun from 1930. I guess one side is failing to learn from the past. The people firing them surprised me like Andrian, a judge who does twelve hour shifts next to the Dinpro River in a unit of nearly all judges. i.e. the Supreme Court and from the Constitutional Court. This is interesting though since Judges technically can’t be mobilized because Ukraine needs the courts to keep functioning so as a solution the moonlight as air defense. Professor Amos thinks this isn’t unusual and mentions other units with professors, opera singers, and other professionals.

I figured the military handled all of this, since this is generally what happens in the united states, but there are thousands of these Ukrainian volunteer groups throughout the country. Ukraine is now thinking about paying civilians as much as $2,400+ a month to track and destroy drones. Prior to getting accepted to Princeton in 2025 but after my service eneded in the united states military, I traveled to Europe with the intention of joining the Ukrainian war as a civilian. I was in Amsterdam when I was notified of my acceptance to Princeton and obviously chose that option. In reality i was running from my own problems and this seemed like a viable option for self-pity and adventure. I am curious how many of the ex-pat civilians who volunteer are actually passionate about fighting or simply looking for self-aggrandisement.

Its been more than three years now since the war started and the government is basically putting these people on payroll. There’s an app that shows the threat level, hotels broadcast warnings, and sirens go off outside too. None of these cautionary measures tells you if the drone is actually headed for your building though. Reading that from Princeton I thought, obviously I’d go to the shelter but I’ve never had to decide that every night for three consecutive years, so I don’t really know what I would do if this were my daily life. I think the Ukrainian persistence to fight back with weapons from the past is a great example that fighting for survival is a timeless pursuit.

– Ellis Speagle

The imagination of Devonne Piccaver, an eight-year-old girl who sought nothing less than becoming something, settled on earning the title of Olympian. As she claims, she would gladly suffer through “living in a crack house” just to achieve her goal, and demonstrated this tenacity during the summer she attended a rowing camp in Reading, UK. Devonne mustered through the visible, physical challenges of training, her hands blistered and torn, while she dealt with the invisible, emotional turmoil of isolation. She would return home to find the walls of her accommodations damp with mold, while her teammates had their laundry done for them. Devonne shared her teammates athletic privilege, but not their pedigree. For years, Devonne endured the enormous physical tax athletes pay, supported by people who encouraged her pursuits. Yet, after years of training toward that goal, Piccaver decided she didn’t want it anymore. 

Ellie, her older sister and close confidant, remembers Devonne as someone who organized all aspects of her life around getting what she wanted. When Piccaver desired to attend college in the United States, she structured her life around that goal. She sought out American rowing coaches at regattas and exchanged emails with them while studying for her A-level examinations. “No one else in our family had attempted anything quite like it [Princeton].” Devonne’s ambitions eventually settled on Princeton; however, regardless of any diligent effort put forth, matriculation failed to offer her the satisfaction she was yearning for. For someone already accustomed to effort yielding success, Princeton resurfaced a familiar feeling of being separated from her peers. This was heightened through, as a result of the technical differences of American rowing, left her moving between higher and lower boats. Devonne arrived at Princeton afraid she would not meet its standard and spent part of her freshman year considering whether she would return at all. Congruent with her personality, Devonne did not quit and, by senior year, continued rowing. 

Devonne’ tenacity proved her to become a leader on campus. She had manicured herself into someone approachable by becoming a community living adviser in Dod Hall. Her sister, Ellie, sees beyond this face. “I think she definitely puts on a face a lot of the time, to make everything seem great and okay, but a lot of the time she’s hiding things that are whirring round in her head.” Ellie wonders if the training, rigorous coursework and responsibilities that keep her sister constantly engaged provide a distraction from possible internal struggles. She does so by continuously striving to help others in need, show up for herself in daily discipline, and look for meaning in challenging situations.

Piccaver has shaped herself into someone deeply searching for meaning and depth. During the 2026 summer reporting migration in Greece, Devonne encountered the tangible discards of displaced people. She witnessed the torn rubber boats in the sand, wet clothes, and life jackets left along the coastline. This reinvigorated her pursuit for depth and meaning, and through Journalism, found became a vessel to channel her ambition. That eight-year-old who needed to become something now has the tools to become anything.

Devonne Piccaver was eight-years-old when she knew she would become an olympian.