Marina Berkovich, Author

Writer, Poet, Filmmaker

About Me

A Journey of a Recovering Idealist

I love every minute of my journey

My Life Through My Dresses - Growing Up Socialist
publication date 2018

Everyday socialism is poorly understood by Americans. After trying to convey it to one person at a time for four decades - here I am with my book.

Through My Dresses I show readers what life was really like in the USSR and why I chose to leave it. 

I show the daily oppression I had experienced while I underwent the socialist indoctrination that Americans call communism.

I love hearing my readers compare my Soviet childhood to theirs in USA.

In The Land of The Freed

estimated publication date TBD

My Journey continues after arrival to USA. Freedom is a learning process just as life... My life, thus far, has been filled with so many turns and experiences, both good and bad, that I do not need to invent plots or develop and embellish characters - just tell my life as it has been happening.

My Life Through Their Dresses

estimated publication date TBD

Family...who are we without them and their story? My family stories are a treasure trove which my predecessors passed to me for safekeeping. I now chose to let you in on a collection of fascinating family secrets and discoveries.

An Excerpt from In The Land of The Freed
My Life Through My Dresses Continues

Ode to Freedom


To be born a free citizen opposite to having been born as a slave to a regime is the most important distinction in human condition. It defines us as masters or prisoners of our fate.

The dichotomy of these two opposites, and the magnificent spectrum of hues and ranges that exist in between, determine the principal success or failure, as it may be, in the relationship any individual has with his or her native and adapted country. As with most elements and characteristics of a human’s life, the longer the enslaved experience, the farther the disparity between origin and destination, the weaker the support system, the more difficult the transition. Those who are born free can never fully understand the nuances and intricacies of a human journey from captivity to liberty. Those who remain enslaved may crave liberty, but not actually having experienced freedom, will have difficulties envisioning its consequences and the increased load of obligations the free society virtually dumps onto the newly liberated head before it is ready to absorb it. Those of us who were born enslaved, but were able to break free, at least in my experience, do not wish enslavement upon our brethren. Nor do we wish to be subjected into involuntary servitude by becoming our brothers’ and their children’s keepers.

Becoming free is an obviously preferred alternative to enslavement, but it is a difficult process, one that requires much mental commitment, adjustment and investment of will and character. A person does not instantaneously become freed. It is a learned experience that an individual must work though and at for the remainder of his or her free life.

Freedom – the power to act, behave, speak and think as one wishes without obstruction, restraint or domination by another person, group, organization, or despotic government…


When I was a little girl growing up socialist in the USSR, America was my enemy.


Through some extraordinary twists of fate everything changed for Mama and me, and in the fall of 1979 we surrendered our Soviet citizenship. The price we paid was parting with all our family, leaving them trapped forever behind the Iron Curtain never to see them again. Or so it was then.


On November 2, 1979, escaping forever the subjugation to the USSR and its totalitarian claim on me, I was freed. My slavery was over. I stood on Austrian soil tasting this freedom with my entire body, taking it all in within those several lucky seconds I dared to step off the train, so that I would never let go of that moment of first knowing that I am freed!

Scared and stateless, Mama and I joined our departing horde, thousands of Soviet Jewish refugees, first in Vienna, then we were moved to Rome to await our destiny. We received the sacred right of entering USA as refugees from the institutionalized discrimination by Soviet Socialist Regime against the Soviet Jews and on January 10, 1980, a mere two weeks after USSR’s invasion of Afghanistan and the simultaneously halted exodus of Soviet Jewry to various destinations of freedom, Mama and I landed at JFK.

We arrived, as so many do, poor, helpless, and fully ready to make our own mistakes. We brought with us no intent to deceive, defraud, demand or destroy the majestic land of sacred opportunity we were somehow allowed to enter.