NOT THAT
EASY!
(Publication
Date: May 7, 2007)
Year: 2003
The period: The Annan Plan was being debated most intensely.
My connection: I write an article during that period.
How it relates to today’s article: I’ll explain below…
***
It’s 2003, the period when the Annan Plan is being debated most intensely…
This is no ordinary debate; I’m very confused.
Everyone is saying something; they’re using terms I don’t understand and have to look up.
I get angry with some and support others; in my own way…
Events are moving quickly: On one side, the plan is being buried and helva is being made; on the other, people are chanting “Yes, mom!” and supporting the plan. It’s a confusing time…
I talk with the people around me: “We’re living through a historic period,” I say, and I come out with interesting things like, “I feel as if I’m in a history lesson.”
I’m in an interesting position, because the “division” I’ve always opposed throughout my life is upsetting me; the “yes”/“no” divide is prompting deep thought and worry.
“I’m in the press; I should do something about this,” I tell myself to get motivated, and I do what I can in my own way; but it’s not enough for me. I think something is missing.
“Just speaking isn’t enough; I should write,” I tell myself!
Knowing that it won’t be published anywhere, I sit down and write.
I keep writing.
I make comments and assessments like, “I’ve written nonsense,” “Oh, look, this turned out well,” “I should change this part,” and “Just delete it,” and I have friends and family read my pieces, saying, “Here, have a read and tell me what you think.”
In a way, I’m satisfying myself, and I feel happy doing it.
During this period, someone comes to the organization where I work.
I get the chance to talk to this person, whom I know by reputation, and introduce myself.
Meeting this person, who has devoted years to journalism, opens up new horizons in my mind.
Shyly, I give him one of the pieces I’ve written. He reads it, and I’m met with an interest I hadn’t expected.
“Can I publish it in the newspaper?” he asks me.
Since I don’t think it’s a piece worth publishing, I say, “I didn’t write it to be published, but you can publish it without my name.”
Years pass, and I keep writing pieces that I never thought would be published anywhere, and having friends and family read them.
At the beginning of 2006, I say, “I’m going to share my writing with everyone now, not just my friends and family.”
I start writing amateur essays to be published once a week in a newspaper.
This goes on for about five months.
In June 2006, I run into the person again—the one who read my piece years earlier and opened up new horizons in my mind.
We talk and reach an agreement: I’ll write opinion columns three days a week, and prepare the cinema page on weekends.
Isn’t it a great opportunity, a great stroke of luck, to work with someone who respects and values the pieces—and, by extension, the ideas—that I’ve written over the years in my own way and considered worthless, who believes in young people and wants to give them a chance?
From that day to this, I’ve continued writing in the same newspaper—that is, the newspaper you’re holding in your hands right now.
Working with that person has been an incredible experience.
He has never interfered with any of my articles.
He has never told me to write this or that.
I’ve always written freely and independently.
That person was Erten Kasımoğlu.
*
Vatan Newspaper is celebrating its 17th anniversary!
Of course, 17 years of consistent publishing are no coincidence.
I’ve been part of just 11 months of those 17 years, and from what I’ve seen, your newspaper, Vatan, will continue to be the free and independent voice of Turkish Cypriots for many years to come.
Because we have an Erten ağabey who believes in this wholeheartedly.
Thank you, Erten ağabey…
See you Wednesday… Be respectful on the roads!
All the texts and other content on this page are original and belong to Cem KAR. They may not be used, even in part, in any way in print or in any other electronic medium (CD, Internet, etc.) without permission.