When brothers Dmytro and Mykhailo Roshchupkin stepped onto the polished floor of the 2025 USA Dance National Ballroom DanceSport Championships, the moment felt like both a triumph and a quiet homecoming. Silver medals soon hung around their necks—earned through artistry, endurance, and a history not only of competition, but of survival, reinvention, and deep emotional strength.
Born and raised in Kharkiv, Ukraine. Dmytro (b. 2004) and Mykhailo (b. 2006) began their journey on the dance floor almost as soon as they could walk. Dmytro’s first partner was twice his age—he was three, she was six—but he matched her steps with fearless precision. The brothers trained with “LisaBond” before joining the elite “Stolytsia” school, led by Kyrylo Shkuryeyev and Margaryta Shkuryeyeva. There, they thrived in a vibrant dance community, representing Ukraine on national and international stages: Mykhailo earned three IDSA World Champion titles in his age group, while Dmytro became a two-time IDSA World bronze medalist and vice-champion.
As boys, they often competed in adjacent age categories and posted similar results, joking that once one received his score, the other could already guess his own. Their shared rhythm extended beyond technique—it was familial, intuitive.
Both brothers are talented beyond the ballroom. In Ukraine, they were winners and prizewinners of numerous national and international competitions in mathematics and computer science. But ultimately, they chose to prioritize dance, dedicating themselves fully to the sport they love. By early 2022, they were training to represent Ukraine at the World Championship scheduled for March 19.
They never made it. In the first days of March, instead of preparing costumes and rehearsing routines, they boarded a train out of their war-struck neighborhood—Pivnichna Saltivka in Kharkiv—headed toward an unknown future. Their destination wasn’t Poland for the competition, but refugee shelters in Europe. Everything they knew changed overnight.
After several attempts to rebuild their lives in Germany and Spain, a new chapter began when Dmytro received an invitation from Bryan Coberg at Arthur Murray Lakewood Ranch in Florida. He arrived alone, nine months before the rest of his family, and immediately began coaching. His first American partner was one of his students, and they danced together for nearly a year, achieving numerous victories and top placements at prestigious national tournaments. A short-term partnership with a fellow instructor followed, but by December 2024, Dmytro was waiting—for someone who matched not just his technique, but his vision.
That someone was Olha Kokoshko.
Olha’s story began in Odesa, in the dormitory of the Odesa Film Studio, surrounded by artists, directors, and dreamers. She started rhythmic gymnastics at age three, moved on to ballet and contemporary at Oksana Livanova’s Odesa Choreographic Arts Center, and later joined Kyiv Contemporary Ballet Studio. While touring Italy as a teenager, she discovered the trick to training “eight times a week.” “Sunday is like two days,” she laughed. “You train in the morning, take a nap, and train again in the evening.”
Soon after, Olha traded her pointe shoes for ballroom heels and began competing seriously. By fourteen, she was choreographing Waltzes for entire graduating classes—dances involving up to fifty participants—and winning citywide school competitions. Her career later brought her to Portugal, where she led over 200 dancers in large-scale stage productions like Dance Fever National Show (2025) and Super Trouper Show (2024), taught students of all ages, and competed at the Blackpool Dance Festival.
A multidimensional artist, Olha also uses her voice to advocate for Ukraine and women’s rights, appearing in The Times, Mashable, and on international podcasts. Her students describe her as a source of inspiration—charging them with enthusiasm and a deep love for movement. And throughout it all, she never stopped dreaming of becoming a world-class dancer.
That dream brought her to the United States, where she and Dmytro instantly connected—both on and off the floor. Their rehearsals are intense but joyful, demanding yet honest. They trust each other. And when they danced their first major competition together at Nationals, the result was electric: a silver medal and the beginning of a powerful new chapter.
Meanwhile, in New York, Mykhailo had partnered with Staten Island native Rachel Rudshteyn. Rachel began ballroom dancing at the age of four and had already become a multiple-time U.S. National finalist. Together, they quickly rose through the ranks of American competitions, sweeping titles and preparing for the National Championships.
Rachel, like her partner, is grounded and driven. Her mother was born in Kyiv, so her connection to Ukrainian culture is deeply personal. At their home studio—Basic Ballroom Dance Studio—Rachel now teaches private and group lessons to young children. Her dream is simple but powerful: to become a world champion and dedicate her life to dance.
She and Mykhailo—Vice-Champions of America in their age division—share a connection built on mutual respect, shared laughter, and persistence. Their bond extends beyond choreography: it lives in the way they celebrate each other’s small victories and lift one another through setbacks. Rachel values mutual support and responsibility in partnership—something she came to appreciate deeply during foreign international competitions. That experience continues to guide her, and she brings that same spirit into her work with Mykhailo every day.
On March 28, 2025, Mykhailo and Rachel lit up the floor at Nationals with their seamless Standard performance. The next day, Dmytro and Olha brought fire and precision to the Professional Latin division. The result? Two silver medals, two pairs, one family.
But beyond the medals, something deeper had formed.
Four dancers. Two brothers. Two extraordinary young women. Different backgrounds, different journeys—and yet, one heartbeat. Whether it’s Rachel’s gentle humor during early-morning rehearsals or Olha’s contagious energy during training marathons, they’ve both become integral parts of a new chapter for the Roshchupkins—a chapter written not in exile but in collaboration. There are no grand declarations—just shared rides to practice, homemade meals, late-night laughter, and mutual care that’s impossible to fake.
Together, they’ve all learned what it means to begin again. To face uncertainty. To dance through fear. To believe in something fragile—and rebuild it with their own hands.
And so, when the music stopped and the ballroom fell silent in Pittsburgh, two pairs stood in the spotlight. Not just as medalists. Not just as dancers. But as something much rarer: a chosen family, built through rhythm, resilience, and relentless hope.
