Armenian Weekly Perseveres After 75 Years
By Tom Vartabedian
Asbarez
Dec 5th, 2009
At a time when the ethnic press is teetering on the brink of change,
the Armenian Weekly celebrates its 75th anniversary with a vision to
the future.
It has survived a monsoon of editorial exchanges, a transgression of
readership, financial instability, unsettled attitudes, and now the
electronic age.
Yet, it continues to remain an organ for the ages, a voice for the
Armenian community in this diaspora, a harbinger of democracy that
pumps vitality into an Armenian readership eager for news. As a
correspondent who's been attached for 50 of those years, I wonder what
my fate would have become had it not been for the Hairenik and those
who served its realm.
Would I have devoted my life to journalism or been slinging hash at my
dad's restaurant? Would I have become a conscientious Armenian, active
with AYF and ARF standards, raising a family in the same vein?
And what would become of you, the reader? Would you have been informed
of the Armenian news, kept in touch with current events throughout the
world? Would you have been entertained by Armenian socials, educated
with buoyant lectures and seminars?
The Armenian Weekly has remained a torch with an inextinguishable
flame, burning in our hearts and minds, and providing a platform in
which to form opinions, gain insight.
Say what you want about William Saroyan earning his start with the
Hairenik's in the 1930's. But so did a lot of others like him. Perhaps
they didn't reach the prominence of this great writer but rest
assured, they also used the paper to further their own careers in
journalism.
Detroit's Mitch Kehetian, for one, would never have spent 50 years in
newspaper work had he not flexed his wings with the Hairenik Weekly,
much less the likes of Hakob Karapents, Sarkis Atamian, Leo Sarkisian,
Uncle Garabed, Uncle Bozo, poetess Diana Der Hovanesian and Jimmy
Tashjian.
Ask any of the 16 editors who handled the operation and they'll tell
you it was not only a labor of love but a window of opportunity in
their professional world.
Ask any correspondent who ever submitted an article about the feeling
they got at seeing their byline attached to a story. For some AYF
Junior, that's huge. It's their incentive to keep on writing, develop
a creative mind, do some good for their chapter, and, above all,
contribute to a worthwhile enterprise.
The organization would be quick to admit that were it not for those
scribes - those budding journalists - the paper would never have survived
all these decades. It's been only as good as those who fueled its
longevity.
One cannot fail to mention the Hairenik with its Armenian language
content. A centennial celebration - on Dec. 2, 2000 (1899-1999) - served
as a monumental milestone in that paper's tenure.
And now, with the Armenian Weekly's 75th, that totals 175 years of
dedicated service from two organs in one building. Both have remained
part and parcel to one another throughout an eternity.
As a long-time contributor, I am thankful for receiving such an
opportunity to write and have my photographs published whenever
possible. My gripe is this. There must be others like myself out there
with a flair for writing who do not take advantage of this journal. In
some ways, the Weekly has remained a writers' workshop where those
with inclination have used it as a stomping ground to hone their
skills.
It has also inspired me to seek out many stories about Armenians and
have them published in the American press. Every community has
Armenians who are labeled as unsung heroes. They shun exposure and
prefer to remain in the background.
Having developed a `nose for Armenian news' with each trip I've taken
to Haiastan, I was able to return with notebooks full of stories about
interesting subjects. These are articles that would never have found
their way to print were it not for the availability of our ethnic
press to get them circulated.
Perhaps the best story to come along over this half century was one
that occurred in 1960 - the year I had just gotten baptized by the
Armenian Weekly. I was a sophomore studying journalism at Boston
University and very involved at the Holy Cross Armenian Catholic
Church in Cambridge at the time.
The opportunity came to study Armenian in Vienna, Austria, with the
Mekhitarist Catholic Fathers. I figured it would be a great
opportunity to enhance my language skills with an Order that had
preserved our culture and history for nearly three centuries through
their writings and translations.
It would be a year's duration, which meant a sabbatical from my
studies. I would be living with these priests inside a monastery in
what was meant to be a pilot program, which would allow other students
like myself to follow if feasible.
Just before departure, Jimmy Tashjian pulled me aside with a request.
He was wondering if I could write a monthly series of my experiences
inside this vank. Very little had been written previously about the
Mekhitarists and the editor saw tremendous human interest potential
from the installments.
Up to this point, my experiences with the Weekly had been purely
token. An AYF chapter report here. A basketball write-up there. I
anxiously accepted the offer.
So once a month for a year, I dispatched an article that found its way
into print. With all the publications received at the monastery from
around the world, and a limited English capacity among the priests,
the Hairenik Weekly was hardly a journal they eagerly awaited, despite
the complimentary subscription.
When the first issue arrived with the story I had submitted, I
approached Archbishop Mesrob Habozian, the abbott general at the time,
with the great news. Stories about the Catholic Order would now be
read by other Armenians wherever the paper was circulated.
None of this mattered to him. Instead, as my instructor, he had
another request - one that sent me into instant delirium. As I showed
him the stories, he asked that they be translated into Armenian and
read to the other priests.
>From then on, all 20 priests at the vank eagerly awaited the Hairenik
issues each month to see what I had written, but more importantly, to
hear my progress with both written and spoken Armenian. Any mistakes
were instantly corrected, much to my chagrin.
This all pleased Tashjian so very much to think that his organ had
suddenly taken on a sacred presence with the Fathers. Upon my return
home, a career in journalism had pretty much been established and I
had suddenly become a familiar correspondent to readers.
And here it is, 50 years later, thousands of stories behind me, an
Almanac Column that was launched in 1970, an Olympics issue that
celebrated its fourth decade, and I still find the Armenian Weekly a
viable presence in my life - and yours.
Tashjian is gone. So is Mandalian, Reuben Darbinian, and others like
Kevork Donabedian who were veritable icons in their mission to keep
the ethnic press secure, whether it was the English publication or the
Armenian. One visit to that building at 212 Stuart St. in Boston was
enough to recharge a young writer's battery.
When I think about all that talent that was laden behind those walls,
all the dedication and verve it took to get one issue after another
printed, the utter chaos at times and quiet transitional periods, it
blows my mind.
I sometimes hear complaints: Too much politics. Not enough AYF news.
An overabundance of academia and a scarcity of human interest. When
all is said and done, you cannot appreciate the final product unless
you fill an editor's shoes. Eventually, everybody's business becomes
the newspaper's business.
On this 75th anniversary, let us all raise our glasses high and do the
Armenian Weekly a favor. Communities can band together and hold a
Hairenik Day. Without preaching to the choir, we can get the paper
circulated to non-subscribers.
As loyal readers, we can take out complimentary subscriptions and gift
them to relatives and friends. It's a small investment into their
mainstream.
And those of you with some inclination to write, share this talent by
joining our correspondence family. Report on your community, send
along a photo, and keep us abreast of local news, be it a distinction
student or distinct athlete. Voice an opinion. Take a stand.
Send along a monetary contribution when able. Make it in someone's
name if you wish. Pass your issue on to others in your family and take
out a subscription for someone in college, particularly the AYFer in
your family. They will surely appreciate the gesture. Mine certainly
did. It was their connection to the Armenian world.
Above all, be grateful we have such a publication in our midst. Any
institution - newspapers or otherwise - to have survived for 75 years must
have something going in its favor.
That something is YOU.
From: Emil Lazarian | Ararat NewsPress
By Tom Vartabedian
Asbarez
Dec 5th, 2009
At a time when the ethnic press is teetering on the brink of change,
the Armenian Weekly celebrates its 75th anniversary with a vision to
the future.
It has survived a monsoon of editorial exchanges, a transgression of
readership, financial instability, unsettled attitudes, and now the
electronic age.
Yet, it continues to remain an organ for the ages, a voice for the
Armenian community in this diaspora, a harbinger of democracy that
pumps vitality into an Armenian readership eager for news. As a
correspondent who's been attached for 50 of those years, I wonder what
my fate would have become had it not been for the Hairenik and those
who served its realm.
Would I have devoted my life to journalism or been slinging hash at my
dad's restaurant? Would I have become a conscientious Armenian, active
with AYF and ARF standards, raising a family in the same vein?
And what would become of you, the reader? Would you have been informed
of the Armenian news, kept in touch with current events throughout the
world? Would you have been entertained by Armenian socials, educated
with buoyant lectures and seminars?
The Armenian Weekly has remained a torch with an inextinguishable
flame, burning in our hearts and minds, and providing a platform in
which to form opinions, gain insight.
Say what you want about William Saroyan earning his start with the
Hairenik's in the 1930's. But so did a lot of others like him. Perhaps
they didn't reach the prominence of this great writer but rest
assured, they also used the paper to further their own careers in
journalism.
Detroit's Mitch Kehetian, for one, would never have spent 50 years in
newspaper work had he not flexed his wings with the Hairenik Weekly,
much less the likes of Hakob Karapents, Sarkis Atamian, Leo Sarkisian,
Uncle Garabed, Uncle Bozo, poetess Diana Der Hovanesian and Jimmy
Tashjian.
Ask any of the 16 editors who handled the operation and they'll tell
you it was not only a labor of love but a window of opportunity in
their professional world.
Ask any correspondent who ever submitted an article about the feeling
they got at seeing their byline attached to a story. For some AYF
Junior, that's huge. It's their incentive to keep on writing, develop
a creative mind, do some good for their chapter, and, above all,
contribute to a worthwhile enterprise.
The organization would be quick to admit that were it not for those
scribes - those budding journalists - the paper would never have survived
all these decades. It's been only as good as those who fueled its
longevity.
One cannot fail to mention the Hairenik with its Armenian language
content. A centennial celebration - on Dec. 2, 2000 (1899-1999) - served
as a monumental milestone in that paper's tenure.
And now, with the Armenian Weekly's 75th, that totals 175 years of
dedicated service from two organs in one building. Both have remained
part and parcel to one another throughout an eternity.
As a long-time contributor, I am thankful for receiving such an
opportunity to write and have my photographs published whenever
possible. My gripe is this. There must be others like myself out there
with a flair for writing who do not take advantage of this journal. In
some ways, the Weekly has remained a writers' workshop where those
with inclination have used it as a stomping ground to hone their
skills.
It has also inspired me to seek out many stories about Armenians and
have them published in the American press. Every community has
Armenians who are labeled as unsung heroes. They shun exposure and
prefer to remain in the background.
Having developed a `nose for Armenian news' with each trip I've taken
to Haiastan, I was able to return with notebooks full of stories about
interesting subjects. These are articles that would never have found
their way to print were it not for the availability of our ethnic
press to get them circulated.
Perhaps the best story to come along over this half century was one
that occurred in 1960 - the year I had just gotten baptized by the
Armenian Weekly. I was a sophomore studying journalism at Boston
University and very involved at the Holy Cross Armenian Catholic
Church in Cambridge at the time.
The opportunity came to study Armenian in Vienna, Austria, with the
Mekhitarist Catholic Fathers. I figured it would be a great
opportunity to enhance my language skills with an Order that had
preserved our culture and history for nearly three centuries through
their writings and translations.
It would be a year's duration, which meant a sabbatical from my
studies. I would be living with these priests inside a monastery in
what was meant to be a pilot program, which would allow other students
like myself to follow if feasible.
Just before departure, Jimmy Tashjian pulled me aside with a request.
He was wondering if I could write a monthly series of my experiences
inside this vank. Very little had been written previously about the
Mekhitarists and the editor saw tremendous human interest potential
from the installments.
Up to this point, my experiences with the Weekly had been purely
token. An AYF chapter report here. A basketball write-up there. I
anxiously accepted the offer.
So once a month for a year, I dispatched an article that found its way
into print. With all the publications received at the monastery from
around the world, and a limited English capacity among the priests,
the Hairenik Weekly was hardly a journal they eagerly awaited, despite
the complimentary subscription.
When the first issue arrived with the story I had submitted, I
approached Archbishop Mesrob Habozian, the abbott general at the time,
with the great news. Stories about the Catholic Order would now be
read by other Armenians wherever the paper was circulated.
None of this mattered to him. Instead, as my instructor, he had
another request - one that sent me into instant delirium. As I showed
him the stories, he asked that they be translated into Armenian and
read to the other priests.
>From then on, all 20 priests at the vank eagerly awaited the Hairenik
issues each month to see what I had written, but more importantly, to
hear my progress with both written and spoken Armenian. Any mistakes
were instantly corrected, much to my chagrin.
This all pleased Tashjian so very much to think that his organ had
suddenly taken on a sacred presence with the Fathers. Upon my return
home, a career in journalism had pretty much been established and I
had suddenly become a familiar correspondent to readers.
And here it is, 50 years later, thousands of stories behind me, an
Almanac Column that was launched in 1970, an Olympics issue that
celebrated its fourth decade, and I still find the Armenian Weekly a
viable presence in my life - and yours.
Tashjian is gone. So is Mandalian, Reuben Darbinian, and others like
Kevork Donabedian who were veritable icons in their mission to keep
the ethnic press secure, whether it was the English publication or the
Armenian. One visit to that building at 212 Stuart St. in Boston was
enough to recharge a young writer's battery.
When I think about all that talent that was laden behind those walls,
all the dedication and verve it took to get one issue after another
printed, the utter chaos at times and quiet transitional periods, it
blows my mind.
I sometimes hear complaints: Too much politics. Not enough AYF news.
An overabundance of academia and a scarcity of human interest. When
all is said and done, you cannot appreciate the final product unless
you fill an editor's shoes. Eventually, everybody's business becomes
the newspaper's business.
On this 75th anniversary, let us all raise our glasses high and do the
Armenian Weekly a favor. Communities can band together and hold a
Hairenik Day. Without preaching to the choir, we can get the paper
circulated to non-subscribers.
As loyal readers, we can take out complimentary subscriptions and gift
them to relatives and friends. It's a small investment into their
mainstream.
And those of you with some inclination to write, share this talent by
joining our correspondence family. Report on your community, send
along a photo, and keep us abreast of local news, be it a distinction
student or distinct athlete. Voice an opinion. Take a stand.
Send along a monetary contribution when able. Make it in someone's
name if you wish. Pass your issue on to others in your family and take
out a subscription for someone in college, particularly the AYFer in
your family. They will surely appreciate the gesture. Mine certainly
did. It was their connection to the Armenian world.
Above all, be grateful we have such a publication in our midst. Any
institution - newspapers or otherwise - to have survived for 75 years must
have something going in its favor.
That something is YOU.
From: Emil Lazarian | Ararat NewsPress