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TIME IN THE WILDERNESS: REMEMBERING THE ARMENIANS
Huffington Post
April 24 2013
Rev. Michelle L. Torigian.
Pastor, St. Paul United Church of Christ, Old Blue Rock Rd., Cincinnati
My grandfather, Azad Torigian, was 6 when the Armenian Genocide began.
He came from Darmon, Keghi, in the area of Ezermun. Sometime in high
school, my family, including my grandfather, began to tell me the
story of his childhood, the nightmare of living through a genocide.
Azad told me of the death around them, of being marched and being
hungry. He spoke of the women throwing themselves and their children
into the Euphrates River to escape the hands of the persecutors. He
told me about his flashbacks from trauma: every time he crossed the
Mississippi River close to where he settled in Illinois, disturbing
visions continued to rush back into his mind, never to completely
disappear.
While attaining my undergraduate degree, I completed further
research into the atrocities of the Armenian people. It went beyond
just displacing an ethnic group. This was ethnic cleansing. People
were marched to their death -- toward a hole in the ground in the
wilderness. Women were assaulted. Some were even crucified. People
were killed as they marched to their graves.
In my research and listening to stories, I heard the complexities
of experiences. In my great-aunt and great-uncle's story, a family
of Kurds who knew my great-grandfather welcomed them into their
home. In a number of stories, unlikely neighbors, some Turkish and
Kurdish families, stood against the oppressive system in love for
their neighbors.
Unfortunately, like so many genocides and atrocities around our world
and even our country, we don't speak out when seeing people tortured,
mostly because of fear. Azad's son, my father, taught his social
studies students the quote by George Santayana, "Those who do not
remember the past are condemned to repeat it." How many genocides have
we heard of in the past 98 years? How does remembering one genocide
stop further massacres from happening?
Because people in our world stopped speaking of the Armenian Genocide,
Adolf Hitler thought he could get away with the Holocaust: "Who,
after all, speaks today of the annihilation of the Armenians?"
When we choose not to remember or share stories, other groups of
people, from Jews in Europe to Muslims in Bosnia, experience the
trauma of exile and annihilation. As time goes on, more survivors of
these genocides die. Without their stories, more and more people deny
these massacres ever happened.
The Armenian Genocide started April 24, 1915. Each year, on or around
that date, I take time to remember the Armenians and the story of my
grandfather. I fellowship with other Armenians to share our common
story.
Remembering stories of genocides connects us to all of humanity. No
group of people should ever be oppressed, beaten and killed for
any reason: for their religion, ethnicity, race, gender, sexual
orientation or disability. When we are able to speak out loud the
stories of those who survived the Armenian Genocide of 1915 and other
violent situations, we stop the spread of oppression in our world.
Speaking the stories of the Armenian and other genocides isn't
about holding on to hate. Granted, I find myself disappointed when
I hear people denying this genocide happened. But the children and
grandchildren of the oppressors were not the ones committing these
crimes. Like us, they are also children of God.
I believe that we can stand up for the voices of those who survived and
perished in the genocide AND still love those who outright disagree
with us. Matthew 5 recalls Jesus saying, "You have heard that it
was said, 'You shall love your neighbor and hate your enemy.' But
I say to you, love your enemies and pray for those who persecute
you, so that you may be sons of your father in heaven." If we build
relationships with those who disagree with us, maybe they will learn
something from our stories. We will grasp the power to end the cycle
of hate in our world. The power is no longer in the hands of those
who have oppressed but those of us who seek reconciliation.
Even when groups of people or individuals in our society continue to
deny that genocides happen, this will never keep survivors in exile.
Every time we remember, the wilderness is left behind. God is the God
of justice, hope and restoration. As it says in Isaiah 40:4 "Every
valley shall be lifted up, and every mountain and hill be made low;
the uneven ground shall become level, and the rough places a plain."
To those who have survived traumas and those of us who love them,
let us strive to keep stories alive. Let us make sure that our fellow
Armenians and fellow humans never find this wilderness again.
http://www.huffingtonpost.com/rev-michelle-l-torigian/time-in-the-wilderness-remembering-the-armenians_b_3147116.html?utm_hp_ref=fb&src=sp&comm _ref=false
Huffington Post
April 24 2013
Rev. Michelle L. Torigian.
Pastor, St. Paul United Church of Christ, Old Blue Rock Rd., Cincinnati
My grandfather, Azad Torigian, was 6 when the Armenian Genocide began.
He came from Darmon, Keghi, in the area of Ezermun. Sometime in high
school, my family, including my grandfather, began to tell me the
story of his childhood, the nightmare of living through a genocide.
Azad told me of the death around them, of being marched and being
hungry. He spoke of the women throwing themselves and their children
into the Euphrates River to escape the hands of the persecutors. He
told me about his flashbacks from trauma: every time he crossed the
Mississippi River close to where he settled in Illinois, disturbing
visions continued to rush back into his mind, never to completely
disappear.
While attaining my undergraduate degree, I completed further
research into the atrocities of the Armenian people. It went beyond
just displacing an ethnic group. This was ethnic cleansing. People
were marched to their death -- toward a hole in the ground in the
wilderness. Women were assaulted. Some were even crucified. People
were killed as they marched to their graves.
In my research and listening to stories, I heard the complexities
of experiences. In my great-aunt and great-uncle's story, a family
of Kurds who knew my great-grandfather welcomed them into their
home. In a number of stories, unlikely neighbors, some Turkish and
Kurdish families, stood against the oppressive system in love for
their neighbors.
Unfortunately, like so many genocides and atrocities around our world
and even our country, we don't speak out when seeing people tortured,
mostly because of fear. Azad's son, my father, taught his social
studies students the quote by George Santayana, "Those who do not
remember the past are condemned to repeat it." How many genocides have
we heard of in the past 98 years? How does remembering one genocide
stop further massacres from happening?
Because people in our world stopped speaking of the Armenian Genocide,
Adolf Hitler thought he could get away with the Holocaust: "Who,
after all, speaks today of the annihilation of the Armenians?"
When we choose not to remember or share stories, other groups of
people, from Jews in Europe to Muslims in Bosnia, experience the
trauma of exile and annihilation. As time goes on, more survivors of
these genocides die. Without their stories, more and more people deny
these massacres ever happened.
The Armenian Genocide started April 24, 1915. Each year, on or around
that date, I take time to remember the Armenians and the story of my
grandfather. I fellowship with other Armenians to share our common
story.
Remembering stories of genocides connects us to all of humanity. No
group of people should ever be oppressed, beaten and killed for
any reason: for their religion, ethnicity, race, gender, sexual
orientation or disability. When we are able to speak out loud the
stories of those who survived the Armenian Genocide of 1915 and other
violent situations, we stop the spread of oppression in our world.
Speaking the stories of the Armenian and other genocides isn't
about holding on to hate. Granted, I find myself disappointed when
I hear people denying this genocide happened. But the children and
grandchildren of the oppressors were not the ones committing these
crimes. Like us, they are also children of God.
I believe that we can stand up for the voices of those who survived and
perished in the genocide AND still love those who outright disagree
with us. Matthew 5 recalls Jesus saying, "You have heard that it
was said, 'You shall love your neighbor and hate your enemy.' But
I say to you, love your enemies and pray for those who persecute
you, so that you may be sons of your father in heaven." If we build
relationships with those who disagree with us, maybe they will learn
something from our stories. We will grasp the power to end the cycle
of hate in our world. The power is no longer in the hands of those
who have oppressed but those of us who seek reconciliation.
Even when groups of people or individuals in our society continue to
deny that genocides happen, this will never keep survivors in exile.
Every time we remember, the wilderness is left behind. God is the God
of justice, hope and restoration. As it says in Isaiah 40:4 "Every
valley shall be lifted up, and every mountain and hill be made low;
the uneven ground shall become level, and the rough places a plain."
To those who have survived traumas and those of us who love them,
let us strive to keep stories alive. Let us make sure that our fellow
Armenians and fellow humans never find this wilderness again.
http://www.huffingtonpost.com/rev-michelle-l-torigian/time-in-the-wilderness-remembering-the-armenians_b_3147116.html?utm_hp_ref=fb&src=sp&comm _ref=false