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“НАШЕ ЖИТТЯ”, ГРУДЕНЬ 2009 25 Motria Kushnir 1949 – 2009 I don’t remember when I first met Motria Kushnir — ours was one of those “situational” friendships that began in childhood and waxed or waned over the decades as circumstances pulled us together or not. Our fathers belonged to the same Ukrainian professional society; our mothers were both UNWLA members ; they shared more or less the same circle of friends ; and so , Motria and I attended a lo t of the same children’s birthday parties, masquerades, Plast gatherings, and similar events. The friendship went into a temporary abeyance during our tween and high school years, when a one - year age difference can be a chasm . T hat chasm narrowed considera bly when we attended the same university and became active in the local studen t ska hromada. We lost touch again after graduating; each of us got married and moved , and the sporadic encounters at the beach or at some Christmas bazaar became less frequent. E very now and again, I’d hear something about her from mutual friends, remember something interesting or funny about her, and then g o back to whatever I was doing. As years went by, Motria pursued her professional interests and I pursued mine, neither of us knowing about the intersecting points — we both wrote for a living, we both put in time as educators, and we both had a connection to Our Life . I was hired to edit the English language pages of the magazine in 1994; Motria’s involvement with the magazine ca me much earlier, something I dis covered while leafing through the collection of old issues that fill most of a tall book case in my basement. Sometime in the 1970s, Motria joined UNWLA Branch 67, branch founded by her mother to help support the Ukrainia n Museum. I n 1976 , she began to write a semi - regular English - language column for Our Life. Under the catch - all title of “News and Views,” the column explored the social, economic, political, and medical ramifi cations of being female. In her column, Motria honed in on inequities and hard - won victories; thrusting here and parrying there while analyzing the philosophies or activities of well - known feminists and their equally well - known critics. Each column was well researched, well thought out, and well writt en — together, they comprised a pretty hefty and extensive profile of women and the issues that shape them. Each time I read (or reread) one of Motria’s columns, I’d think “This is awesome. I should call her and tell her. I wonder what she’s up to these days . ” That day or the next I’d make a half - baked effort at getting her current phone number and then get distracted by some “right now” crisis or deadline or, truth be told, something downright trivial. And so the call was never made and the message was never delivered — just anoth er instance of good intentions gone unfulfilled. Then a few weeks ago, our community was rocked by the news that Motria and her mother were dead. The day I heard the sad news, I sat in my basement and reread the last column Motria had written for Our Life . Published in May of 1981, it was a scathing polemic against Phyllis Schlafly , whose vociferous opposition to the women’s movement annoyed Motria no end. It was a column that Motria dedicated to her mother, Irena Kushnir — “my female par ent who has always been one of my bigg est fans and best of critics” — the woman who taught by example that a woman’s place was in the home, in a chemistry lab, in a museum, or anywhere else she chose to be. It was a lesson that Motria lived by, sometimes wit h laughter and sometimes with tears, but always with conviction. Rest peacefully, Motiu. TSC
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