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НАШЕ ЖИТТЯ • Січень-Лютий 2024 11 До Дня рідної мови Віра Сорочак , 129-й Відділ, Детройт О, мово рідна, що ти пережила?! Яких тортур зазнала й катувань?! Та нині, в час війни, ти знов ожила. Ти обираєшся народом без вагань. Питаю вас: «Чи шпак кує на гілці? А чи когут затьохкає? Ще б пак! То чому ж ми — свідомі українці Паскудим свою мову, як ходак. Ні, я не проти, щоб російську знати. Це наша зброя проти москалів. Та не погоджуймось її плекати! І пам’ятаймо, що Тарас велів! Ну де у світі є така ще мова? Щоб перлами дзвеніли так слова. Вона і солов’їна, й калинова, Вкраїна-мати нам її дала. На мові цій пташки співають в лісі. Той соловейко, що у нас в гаю — Ви вслухайтеся, як по-українськи Витьохкує мелодію свою. Ну як тобою, мово, не пишатись?! Як душу піснею ти рвеш до сліз! Люблю тобою тихо милуватись, Коли я шепіт слухаю беріз. Я вірю, буде жити Україна! Російській мові скажемо ми: «Цить!» І українська рідна, солов’їна По всьому світу гордо зазвучить! О, мово рідна rips, spilled juice, smiley and sad faces – yet it has survived until today and is a cherished reminder of our childhood. After I learned English in kindergarten, I accepted the linguis - tic duality of my life as totally normal... with one exception. When I was about 9, I grew increasingly frustrated with Ukrai- nian language class which was compulsory several times a week in my Ukrainian Catholic school. We were learning the rules of grammar, and I was very bored. I already spoke grammatical Ukrainian instinctively, so why should I be forced to memorize the rule governing the difference between the negative geni - tive and the locative case of Ukrainian nouns? I thought it was a waste of time and blamed the Ukrainian language as a whole. I marched home and announced to my parents that from that moment on I will speak only English. I was expecting them to be angry by this linguistic rebellion, but to my great surprise, they reacted calmly, almost indifferently. My mother simply said: Hmmm... and turned back to the stove to continue stirring that evening’s soup with her favorite wooden spoon. Slightly deflat - ed, I nevertheless followed through on my decision to speak English. During that time my parents, wisely, did not make a fuss and spoke to me in Ukrainian as if all were normal. I quickly tired of being contrarian, but more importantly felt oddly disloyal for not speaking to my parents in their native language. In just 48 hours my rebellion was over; I quietly reverted back to Ukraini - an, and we never mentioned the incident again. As important as my little bukvar was at the beginning of my Ukrainian language education, it was another book, ten times the bukvar’s weight, that I consider just as important to my life and career. In the early 1990s, soon after Ukraine declared its independ - ence, I began traveling there regularly as a U.S. State Depart - ment Ukrainian interpreter. During one of my trips, I stopped into Naukova Dumka (Scientific Thought), a bookstore in the heart of Kyiv offering academic, scientific, and literary books. I was delighted to find a small section devoted to linguistics, but truly astonished to see several Ukrainian/foreign language dictionaries that did not involve Russian as an intermediary. I grabbed the only English-Ukrainian one I saw. I don’t remem - ber what I paid for it, but to me it was worth its weight in gold, five pounds of it. Despite its size and heft, this slovar was the first thing I packed for my business trips. This was well before we had the luxury of smart phones that could summon mul - tiple online English-Ukrainian dictionaries with a click or two anywhere in the world. If I was traveling and needed to find the right interpretation of a specific word, this slovar was my only hope. After dozens and dozens of transatlantic crossings, my slovar is the worse for wear, just like my childhood bukvar . My dictionary’s spine is broken, and its front cover practically torn off. I have patched and re-patched it more times than I can count. Its front pages were lost decades ago, so I have no idea who published it and when. None of this matters. I love both my bukvar and my slovar for what they represent: my two native languages, overlapping each other, reinforcing my family ties, strengthening my two cultural identities, and immeasurably enriching my world view. РОЗВИВАЄМО • CULTIVATE
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