Weekly anniversary commentary

Reflections at 50: what of tomorrow?


It was the year that "beauty killed the beast," as King Kong plummeted from atop the Empire State Building and into the annals of American myth. The New York Giants were the newly crowned kings of baseball and Kate Hepburn won her first Oscar for "Morning Glory." Prohibition was repealed, and Depression-weary Americans could again lift their spirits or drown their sorrows without breaking the law. It was a time when the insouciance of the 1920s gave way to the grim realities of unemployment, bread lines and soup kitchens. But there was hope, as an aristocratic former governor of New York was sworn in as the 32nd president of the United States, promising a "New Deal" for all Americans.

It was a time of profound paradox. In Europe, the revolutionary ardor that sought to build a democratic world on the post-World War I ashes of the old order had waned in the face of economic chaos and social upheaval, and was replaced by its opposite - totalitarianism. While artists and physicists proclaimed that the laws of nature could only be seen in the context of relative probabilities instead of absolute certainties, dogmatic leaders - Mussolini, Stalin and, in 1933, Adolf Hitler - emerged and arrogantly claimed they could make order out of confusion because they had absolute knowledge. Appealing to fear and intolerance, they planned to erect eternal empires on the bones of innocent victims. Over 7 million Ukrainians died of starvation in the man-made famine of 1933. Millions more were to die in the gas chambers of Auschwitz and on the battlefields of Europe.

For Ukrainian Americans in the United States, it was a time of reassessment and change. A large first generation of Ukrainian Americans was growing up, faced with the difficult challenge of maintaining its ethnic identity while staking its share of the American dream. The Ukrainian American community had come a long way since the first immigrants had set foot on America's shore. Churches and fraternal associations - the UNA among them - had long been established, and the community now had the vigor and self-confidence to express its concerns and to show off its culture. It was becoming more political and more sophisticated. Ukrainians vociferously protested President Roosevelt's decision to diplomatically recognize the Soviet Union, and marched to call attention to the Great Famine that was ravaging their homeland. At the Chicago World's Fair of 1933, the Ukrainian Pavilion was a proud embodiment of Ukrainian heritage and resourcefulness, as it was the only exhibition not financed by government funds.

It was into this ethos that The Ukrainian Weekly was born 50 years ago on October 6. It began as an English-language offshoot of Svoboda aimed, as outlined in its inaugural editorial, specifically at Ukrainian American youth. In those early years, its editor was keenly aware of the difficult balancing act confronting Ukrainian American young people who were caught between the lure of assimilation and the instinctive desire to maintain the culture of their parents. He knew that the future of the Ukrainian American community depended on its young people and the ability of the older generation of community leaders to make way for youth and entrust it with that future. Stephen Shumeyko, who became the first editor of the Weekly at age 25, was instrumental in the formation of the Ukrainian Youth League of North America, and maintained his interest in the problem of Ukrainian American youth his whole life.

The future

Although The Weekly is no longer geared primarily for young adults, having grown into a wholly independent paper covering a broad range of community concerns, both domestic and international, it remains aware of the relevance of its founding principles and their underlying truisms. With a staff that averages 27 years of age, The Weekly remains committed to looking ahead to the future of the community.

But, as it was 50 years ago, the future is clouded with uncertainty. What is clear is that our community - here defined as an aggregate of institutions such as fraternal organizations, credit unions, civic, cultural and political groups - is facing a crisis of leadership. It is showing signs of age and attrition. Young people have not, in any appreciable way, stepped in to assume responsible roles in the community.

The reasons for this are manifold and complex. The children of Ukrainian immigrants, particularly those that are first-generation, are faced with two distinct societies. On the one hand, they are products of the American educational system, and often work and socialize in the non-Ukrainian world. On the other hand, they enjoy the benefits of community institutions through childhood and adolescence. Some drop out because they see the community infrastructure as a superfluous by-product of their parents' reluctance or inability to abandon their past and acclimate themselves to American life. Others drift away when the demands of American society take up most of their time and energy. One imagines they feel that the community institutions are somehow self-perpetuating and eternal, as are the people who freely devote hours to keeping them going.

Underpinning all this is the sense that somehow the two societies, the Ukrainian and American, are mutually exclusive. This notion is bolstered by the fact that, unlike other ethnic groups, Ukrainians continue to be misunderstood or largely unknown, partly because of their reluctance to become involved, in some cases even marginally, with non-Ukrainian society.

This is an old story. Fifty years ago, Stephen Shumeyko and his associates were confronted with a similar situation, and his response is as pertinent now as it was then. He felt that Ukrainian Americans could be just that, Ukrainians and Americans, and that serving the Ukrainian community need not impede integration into American society. In fact, he was convinced that Ukrainian Americans could only be effective community leaders if they were successful Americans and managed to work their way to influential positions in the non-Ukrainian world. In effect, he could see the uselessness of becoming a big fish in a little ghetto pond, and encouraged young people to aspire to bigger things as the best means of helping their Ukrainian community and the Ukrainian nation.

We agree. Nobody expects our young people to become professional Ukrainians like some of their parents. We don't expect young people to give up their careers or sacrifice all their leisure time. But as established Ukrainian businesses and institutions must make changes to accommodate the needs of today's young Ukrainians, our young adults must help shoulder some of the burden and not assume that someone else will do all the work.

If the Ukrainian community is to survive into the 21st century, it needs the input of today's young adults and their expertise. Someone has to take over the credit unions, the fraternal organizations, the cultural, civic and other groups. It is an inevitable part of ethnic community life that some young people will be irretrievably lost to the community. It is also true that our community's past and present political bickerings have alienated some young people, as has the reluctance of a generation of community leaders to step aside. But if young people feel that the community is worth salvaging, they will step in and make changes. If they don't, it will continue to flounder and then slowly disintegrate. What is needed is a commitment to the future. Given the political situation in Ukraine, it is doubtful that a new wave of immigrants will arrive to give the community a shot in the arm.

For 50 years The Ukrainian Weekly has reflected the changing face of the Ukrainian community. It has been the voice of myriad Ukrainian causes. The question is simple: will our future entail reporting on the rebirth of the community or its slow and irreversible demise?


Copyright © The Ukrainian Weekly, October 23, 1983, No. 43, Vol. LI


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