Abigail maccio
Carmen pennisi
09/10/2021 22:01
Clarín.com
Society
Updated 09/10/2021 10:01 PM
Abigail:
I've always liked to write, even when I didn't know how to do it and could only scribble and invent stories, although afterwards I didn't remember what it was that I had meant. I like to think that that, beyond being something personal, my own, is something that I inherited from my grandmother. She is present in every memory I have related to literature and writing: when she gave me the novels from the Robin Hood collection that my father and uncles had read as children, when she told my parents to buy me Agatha's books. Christie, when I wrote something "serious" and she was the only one who would let him read it. If I have to relate the word "write" to a person, before any author comes to mind, she always "comes" to me first. It is that person who understands me because, beyond the fact that my parents are readers,It is with her that I share this love. She is the only one I look at and say “we are the same”, although there are so many other things that differentiate us.
I kept reading
Open (or not) the doors of your own spaces
Society
Carmen:
From my father I inherited the love for reading.
Read beyond the hours that prudence indicated that they should dedicate themselves to sleep.
Later my children were the readers, and now my granddaughter.
With Abigail we were reading companions and visits to bookstores from her early years, from which we left, with pain, when we no longer had more money to enable us to take some other treasure.
I witnessed his secret readings, with the flashlight under the blankets, many Sunday nights when he should have been sleeping after a weekend full of games and I enjoyed each of his little drawings that he always accompanied with a message of childhood love .
I was delighted with his first school productions and his correct innate spelling.
In the garden.
Abigail Maccio had given life to a doll.
Carmen Pennisi, with a proud smile.
TO:
Around fifteen, sixteen, it was clear to me that what I wanted to do with my life was, precisely, to write. My first idea was Letters, but I didn't like the study plan, because it had a lot of philosophy and I didn't want to be taking so many subjects on a subject that didn't interest me. I remember that I googled "writing career" and, as a first result, I got an article in which they warned that the writing career was opening at UNA. I went to the Bachelor's degree page, straight to the study plan, and I loved it: it had (and has, even with the modifications they made in 2019) everything I wanted. When I told my grandmother about it, I asked her to accompany me to the talk they had before registration opened (I, before starting college, never drove myself by bus or train because everything stayed close to home,and I also knew that he was going to like the idea). So together we took two bonds and went to Congress, where the headquarters of the UNA that played is.
C:
I never had any doubts that reading and writing would be in Abi's future. But I did not think about it for mine, beyond writing pages dedicated to my loved ones (many of which they never saw) or advisory and orientation documents typical of my management role in teaching. The custom was repeated every week before the pandemic: family lunch at the grandparents' house. One long after-dinner Sunday, Abigail invited me to accompany her to a presentation talk about the Writing Arts degree. The subject excited me. Impossible to refuse. The meeting was in the Aula Magna of the Bartolomé Miter building. It was a weekday, hot and in Congress. Sacrifices are made for the grandchildren. Three floors per staircase because the elevator was not working. That an elevator does not work when one is twenty years old is irrelevant,but at seventy-two it's something else. The classroom was almost full, although we arrived early and sat as far forward as we could so as not to miss any details. As I looked around, I found a few older people, not as many as me, grafted among so many teenagers fresh out of high school. At the time, I was far from imagining how important that morning would turn out to be. The race director unfolded us with an exciting world of theory classes, workshops, and college challenges that he had always dreamed of. That was the opportunity to enter a magical world where I could live with authors, some only known by name and others totally new, that I love today. I wondered if I would dare to enter that world.although we arrived early and sat as far forward as we could so as not to miss any details. As I looked around, I found a few older people, not as many as me, grafted among so many teenagers fresh out of high school. At the time, I was far from imagining how important that morning would turn out to be. The race director unfolded us with an exciting world of theory classes, workshops, and college challenges that he had always dreamed of. That was the opportunity to enter a magical world where I could live with authors, some only known by name and others totally new, that I love today. I wondered if I would dare to enter that world.although we arrived early and sat as far forward as we could so as not to miss any details. As I looked around, I found a few older people, not as many as me, grafted among so many teenagers fresh out of high school. At the time, I was far from imagining how important that morning would turn out to be. The race director unfolded us with an exciting world of theory classes, workshops, and college challenges that he had always dreamed of. That was the opportunity to enter a magical world where I could live with authors, some only known by name and others totally new, that I love today. I wondered if I would dare to enter that world.not as much as me, as grafted among so many teenagers recently graduated from high school. At the time, I was far from imagining how important that morning would turn out to be. The race director unfolded us with an exciting world of theory classes, workshops, and college challenges that he had always dreamed of. That was the opportunity to enter a magical world where I could live with authors, some only known by name and others totally new, that I love today. I wondered if I would dare to enter that world.not as much as me, as grafted among so many teenagers recently graduated from high school. At the time, I was far from imagining how important that morning would turn out to be. The race director unfolded us with an exciting world of theory classes, workshops, and college challenges that he had always dreamed of. That was the opportunity to enter a magical world where I could live with authors, some only known by name and others totally new, that I love today. I wondered if I would dare to enter that world.That was the opportunity to enter a magical world where I could live with authors, some only known by name and others totally new, that I love today. I wondered if I would dare to enter that world.That was the opportunity to enter a magical world where I could live with authors, some only known by name and others totally new, that I love today. I wondered if I would dare to enter that world.
TO:
She wrote down everything (like a girl who sat next to me, who must have been eighteen too), I just listened. We both laughed that there were people who asked questions that were already clarified on the race page. I don't remember if it was that same day as we returned, or a few days later, that she asked me if it bothered me that she also did the race. I told her that she had no drama, that we sign up together. Sometimes when I tell that I am studying with my grandmother, there are people who stare at me for a few seconds in silence, as if trying with my expression if I say it as if it were something good or bad. The truth is that from the first moment, since I said yes, I saw it as an opportunity to spend more time together.I don't know how many more years I can enjoy it (something that I became more aware of growing up and seeing how people change with age), so sharing a little more what we both like so much is a great goal.
C:
There are studies that say that the brain of people over sixty has the optimal conditions to approach learning in previously unexplored areas: languages, music, the arts in general.
If so, why not take heart with the Arts of Writing, if I had already accepted the challenge of languages?
My husband's unconditional support gave me the boost my insecurity needed to enroll.
The approach to a career of several years demands an effort that is alleviated by Abigail's company.
The study excites me as much as sharing it with my granddaughter, who adds her new and fresh look to my way of seeing some things.
TO:
We try to take the same subjects, in the same commissions. Usually I sign up, and then from her account I write her down, so we do it faster and make sure we stay the same. Although we have been planning our course since our first year, as the SIU Guaraní (university software) collapses on enrollment days, just this past semester we were able to take all the subjects that we signed up for together (previous years we were able to stay in the same subject , but different schedules, or not even that sometimes). At first I was a bit embarrassed that he read my work, because it was something more serious than the nonsense I wrote as a girl. But also, in the same way, it gave me something that the other classmates or teachers read them as well.With so many texts that are as successful or that seem better than what one writes, it is easy to think that, in comparison, the same is not so good. In the first year (2019), for the workshops we had to read everything aloud (now for virtuality, we only read the poetry ones, which are shorter works and each one gets to read their poem). I think it was also difficult to listen when they made corrections to me, as it left me in evidence and my grandmother, who always saw my newsletters with good marks, "discovered" the errors that I had until I got to promote. Now we are used to it, and we even consult each other when we are not sure. Like that we do it more than anything with the theoretical, for example a work in which we have to analyze or relate bibliography, not so much with poems or stories,which is the practical part of the race.
C:
Sharing the experience of studying with Abigail presents me with an illusion and a challenge. I know I'm going to lose because her step is more agile and makes me run but I gain the happiness of enjoying a world that we love with her. It allows me to encourage and develop the affinity that we always had from another plane, more equal to equal, more adult. It is a gift, unexpected and grateful at this stage of my life. The love relationship that we always had expanded and gained in depth between theoretical readings and practical work. The trips to and from the faculty, running and changing buses in sunrises with hats and jackets and picket noons, gave us extra time for talks with more or less transcendent topics, listening to each other more carefully and reading our thoughts in a more natural way. Like any student,We share our preference for teachers and subjects and we listen with interest to our colleagues on our same journey. We suggest and facilitate works and authors that give us tools to improve our productions. When we believe that the other can enrich their writing or that there is no clarity in their words, we point out with affection but without concessions. The quarantine added us to the world of Zoom, almost ignored before the pandemic, which brought us closer to students and teachers in unthinkable ways in the past. This is how part of the academic social lost by the threat of the coronavirus was supplied, although we continue to miss face-to-face classes even at the cost of leaving the comfort of not leaving home. That the teachers are mostly from my children's generation, and my classmates from my grandchildren's,It is an experience that makes me swing between humility and pleasure.
A:
My incentive in pursuing this degree is to get all the tools to be able to write and publish something that says “yes, I like it” or “yes, it is good enough for someone else to read it”.
Also something that I realized recently is how much I like to edit, and although there is a Bachelor's Degree in Literary Editing and the UNA even got a related diploma, what I see in Writing Arts serves me a lot, since there is one matter such as Morphology and Syntax, even to the fact that they correct me or that I correct others.
C:
Abigail will have an ambitious plan for her future as a writer. His enthusiasm, dedication and youth are points in favor for the realization of any project. The illusion that moves me is more modest. I would like to write neatly and neatly the history of our family as a gift for the generations that follow me. Our grandparents were immigrants, who like so many others came to Argentina fleeing a reality and pursuing a hope in 1906. The documents to which I have access are not abundant, but I have the almost physical need to do so and the claim of my children already that we have no other relatives to share memories with. I'm going to need time to put the puzzle together by searching Centuripe for the missing pieces for the origins investigation to be complete, but I'm excited to do so.The family history has many gaps, among other reasons for not having had grandparents who with their stories linked us to our past. I would not like my children and grandchildren to feel that lack in the future that I still feel today. Having known Sicily without being able to reach the town of the grandparents maintains the flame of being able to return to search for parish records. Seeing that beautiful and cruel terrain every time someone uploads a new video on YouTube reminds me that I owe a debt to people who are no longer there and to those who will come.Having known Sicily without being able to reach the town of the grandparents maintains the flame of being able to return to search for parish records. Seeing that beautiful and cruel terrain every time someone uploads a new video on YouTube reminds me that I owe a debt to people who are no longer there and to those who will come.Having known Sicily without being able to reach the town of the grandparents maintains the flame of being able to return to search for parish records. Seeing that beautiful and cruel terrain every time someone uploads a new video on YouTube reminds me that I owe a debt to people who are no longer there and to those who will come.
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Abigail Maccio is
studying to train as a writer.
He likes to read, and he can't go a day without listening to music.
On his instagram account @decidoseguirle he uploads (almost) Christian devotionals every Monday.
He aspires to be published one day, to be able to share what he loves to write so much.
Carmen Pennisi
, after a life dedicated to teaching, her family and a community of faith, also adds that she is a university student.
The field of writing is encouraged with enthusiasm while attending UNA.
His first project demands hard research on Sicilian immigration.