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and they are semi-convinced that they have nothing important enough to write about. They are comfortable and smug in the realization that having left school and survived the dreaded College Writing I and II courses, they are now free to avoid writing anything more de manding than a note to a child’s teacher, a memo to a co-worker, or a message in a Christmas card. And this attitude, unfortunately, afflicts UNWLA members who could and should be encouraged to contribute stories, articles or essays to the organization’s magazine. As a writing teacher, the first and most important task of every semester was to install in my reluctant non-writers the belief that the impossible was possible. The most frequent lament from my students was that writing was too hard. This premise is valid only when one confronts writing as WRITING, when one endows it with supernatural powers by refusing to see it as a per fectly logical process, when one surrenders to a super stitious belief that transforms a well constructed sent ence or paragraph into some mystical hocus pocus beyond the grasp of mere mortals. Anyone can write; most people, unfortunately, convince themselves they can’t do it before they try to do it. The second favorite lament of my student writers was ” 1 have nothing to write about.” As their professor, I could fight this demon by assigning them specific top ics to write about. As an editor, I am not in a position to dictate in such peremptory fashion. My students had to write or they would fail my classes. The readers of this publication, much as I would like for them to be writers, reporters, journalists, critics, columnists or free lance correspondents, are free to choose not to write with absolute impunity. And yet, and yet and yet...how I wish that some of those readers would at least consider the path not taken yet and try it. When students say they have nothing to write about, one might almost agree. They are young, life has touched them in very small doses, the agonies and ecstasies that experience and maturity bring are beyond their comprehension and beyond their abilities to describe, to write about. Not so for those of you who have been there and done it and seen it and felt it and suffered and enjoyed and hoped and laughed as adults. You have stories to tell you have ideas that are worth expressing...you have advice to impart and issues worth raising and yet youu sit silent and still, allowing those ideas to go gently into that good night where they will lie untouched, unread, and unrecognized. Yet if I draw on my experiences as a teacher, I may perhaps coax on or two or three of you to by an assignment, the theme of which is as similar and as comfortable as an old shoe....The Hola Bosa Story. We’ve all heard them or lived them. They are the stories that are told time and time again in the Ukrainian com munity — stories of the war years and the d.p. camps, stories of the tragedies and absurdities of emigration, stories of lives disrupted and rebuilt in this brave new world or some other, stories of heroism and despair, stories of fortunes lost and of lessons learned and of the indestructibility of the human spirit. Stories that will be forgotten unless someone like you writes them down and preserves them for posterity. I cannot offer you a passing grade or money for your efforts, but if your story is published, I can promise you the heady feeling that comings from seeing your work in print, and the headier feeling of knowledge that you have created something special and unique, that you are an author. Some of you will worry about having your story rejected by the nasty editor. To you, I say “No guts, no glory.” Every author, no matter how prolific and how talented, gets rejection slips. And you might surprise yourself and find you are a better story teller than you ever dreamed. Some of you will say “ I don’t know where to begin.” To you I say being wherever you like. If something doesn’t look right later on, move it or replace it or get rid of it. It is not carved in stone so allow yourself to be flexible. And some of you will worry about grammar and spelling and punctuation and all those other technical demons that made you hate writing in the first place. To you I say “don’t. That’s my job and I do it well so you don’t have to bother. So try it. You might like it. Truscavec and has participated in a joint project with the CCRF, assisting in the acquisition of a GE MRI Max for Kyyiv Emergency Hospital and Trauma Center in 1994. UNWLA Regional Councils and Branches, relying on donations and countless volunteer hours, are spon sors of thirteen Social Welfare Centers in sister cities in Ukraine, providing humanitarian aid to children, youth, large families, the infirm and the elderly. The UNWLA is a member of Ukrainian World Con gress, World Federation of Ukrainian Women s Organi zations, the National Council of Women of the United States, the American Federation of Women’s Clubs, the American Sabre Foundation. In 1993 UNWLA Vice Pres ident, Iryna Kurowyckyj was elected president of the National Council of Women in the USA — the first Ukrainian president in the organization's 107 year his tory. UNWLA is also associate member of the General Federation of Women’s Clubs. UNWLA is gratefull for all the donations of tome and money that made this possible. ’’НАШЕ ЖИТТЯ", СІЧЕНЬ 1995 15
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