A CLASH OF CULTURES: RE-IMAGINING THE HYPHENATED ARMENIAN
BY MARIA TITIZIAN
http://asbarez.com/107600/a-clash-of-cultures-re-imagining-the-hyphenated-armenian/
I often wonder if other nations are as hard on themselves as we are.
No doubt our behavior toward one another on a personal, national and
global scale is enough reason to begin a critical discourse on our
self-perceived lack of inspiration. While we all claim to be Armenian
due to genetic material, ethnicity, language, physical characteristics
and a shared history, we are in fact a people whose behavior, world
views and perceptions are in constant conflict. Our personal stories
and experiences in the Diaspora attest to this condition and were
further compounded after Armenia gained independence. We went from
the typical Diaspora hyphenations of Lebanese-, American-, Iranian-,
Syrian-, French-, Argentinean-Armenian to the Hayastantsi-Spyurkahay
shift. We are forever labeling ourselves as Armenians belonging to
a particular place but never a shared space.
We create divisions for the sake of divisions.
My personal revelation of this condition revealed itself to me in 1983
during the first pan-Armenian AYF camp in Greece. Young Armenians
from the Middle East, Europe, South and North America came together
for two weeks of educationals, excursions and activities. I was 17
years old, very young and naïve and my excitement at traveling for
the first time to Europe and getting to meet like-minded compatriots
was beyond measure. The memories and friendships have stayed with me
thirty years on. It was an experience that changed the course of my
life. Although I returned to Canada with a stronger resolve to maintain
my identity as an Armenian, I was also astonished by the serious clash
of culture I had experienced. The Lebanese-Armenians considered us
North American-Armenians not as "Armenian" or patriotic as they were
because we would speak English, the Syrian-Armenians kept mainly to
themselves, especially the girls, none of us Western Armenians could
understand the Iranian-Armenians, to hear the Armenians from Argentina
speak with such a heavy Spanish accent was a little shocking and
the European Armenians were so different that we didn't interact. We
all considered ourselves to be Armenian but there was a disconnect;
we were in reality so different from one another.
Growing up in Canada, a multicultural society, where ethnic minorities
are encouraged to maintain their identity and culture, living with
a diverse group of different races taught us tolerance and acceptance.
But the labels almost always existed unless you could trace your
Canadian lineage back at least three of four generations. The rest
of us came from somewhere else. We sought out familiarity and made
sure to stick with those who were most like us.
This was true for the Armenian Diaspora. You were a "Lebanonahay" or
"Syriahay" or a "Barsgahay" and you generally kept to your own "kind."
And the other important division was the "Americahay" versus the
newly arrived hyphenated "other" Armenian, and then the issue became
not only about culture and language but turf.
And then our comfortable hyphenated world shifted as Armenia gained
independence and new labels were quickly assigned - we were the
Spyurkahays and they, the Hayastantsis. But the Hayastantsis also
had their own internal hyphenations based on city or region, and then
there was the Kharabakhtsi, the Javakhtsi, the Bakvetsi, etc. The most
ingrained distinction is reserved for the repatriates from the 1940s
who, 70 years on are still called "aghpars." We like to distinguish.
And in this strange Armenian configuration of multiple identities,
we moved to Armenia where we came to be known sometimes as "aghpars,"
sometimes the more polite terminology of repatriate, but most times
crazy for leaving behind the comforts of the West. And as a painfully
small trickle of Armenians from different parts of the world come to
live in the homeland, these divisions continue, not as severe as they
were in the Diaspora but they do persist. Some traditions die hard.
The Genocide not only deprived us of our ancestral homeland but it
deprived us of the feeling of belonging to a particular geography,
oneness and unity. Yes, we talk about the power of the Armenian,
our tenacity to survive in the face of adversity, and yes, we still
tend to agree on some things of national importance or significance
but most of the time we like to disagree on many things.
But today, we have ownership, there is geography, recognized borders,
a specific, tangible piece of land, soil, a state that belongs to all
of us, however small or incomplete it may be. And not only one, but
two. Although the Republic of Nagorno Karabakh is not yet recognized,
for all intents and purposes it is de facto a nation state, with its
corresponding institutions and living, breathing people, the second
Armenian state on this planet. And yet the hyphenations continue.
Our diverse narratives, our personal histories and experiences,
the countries and communities where we lived in our formative years,
which have positively impacted our world views and perceptions, are
strengths that we must celebrate and employ to ensure the empowerment
of not only the homeland but the Diaspora. Utilizing the strength of
Armenians right across the globe can be a tool for greatness.
We must re-imagine what it means to be an Armenian in the 21st
century. We are a global nation in a globalized world. The Genocide
viciously cast us out into the world, a dispersion of catastrophic
dimensions for our people. We must flip this tragic narrative on
its head. Without ceasing to struggle for the restoration of our
historic and legal rights, let's simultaneously use it to empower us
and not weaken us. It forced us to adapt, to become more flexible
and inventive. We had to learn how to live again. Some of us lived
in established democracies, others in authoritarian states; some of
us were caught in wars that had nothing to do with us and survived;
some had the privilege of living in countries where social justice
prevailed and in others where there was corruption, fundamentalism,
lack of freedoms and polarization; we learned tolerance and yet were
targets of intolerance; we learned to be innovative, cunning and how
to survive with nothing and then prosper. We educated ourselves and
our children. Individual Armenians around the world reached dizzying
heights of success because they intrinsically understood and had
felt hatred and deprivation and the only alternative was to succeed
and be better. We have lived in the west and the east, in the north
and south. We have covered the globe and have overcome. This is our
legacy, yet we hyphenate.
I am not a Canadian-Armenian, a Diaspora-Armenian, a repatriate,
or an aghpar, I am Armenian. So are you.
From: Baghdasarian
BY MARIA TITIZIAN
http://asbarez.com/107600/a-clash-of-cultures-re-imagining-the-hyphenated-armenian/
I often wonder if other nations are as hard on themselves as we are.
No doubt our behavior toward one another on a personal, national and
global scale is enough reason to begin a critical discourse on our
self-perceived lack of inspiration. While we all claim to be Armenian
due to genetic material, ethnicity, language, physical characteristics
and a shared history, we are in fact a people whose behavior, world
views and perceptions are in constant conflict. Our personal stories
and experiences in the Diaspora attest to this condition and were
further compounded after Armenia gained independence. We went from
the typical Diaspora hyphenations of Lebanese-, American-, Iranian-,
Syrian-, French-, Argentinean-Armenian to the Hayastantsi-Spyurkahay
shift. We are forever labeling ourselves as Armenians belonging to
a particular place but never a shared space.
We create divisions for the sake of divisions.
My personal revelation of this condition revealed itself to me in 1983
during the first pan-Armenian AYF camp in Greece. Young Armenians
from the Middle East, Europe, South and North America came together
for two weeks of educationals, excursions and activities. I was 17
years old, very young and naïve and my excitement at traveling for
the first time to Europe and getting to meet like-minded compatriots
was beyond measure. The memories and friendships have stayed with me
thirty years on. It was an experience that changed the course of my
life. Although I returned to Canada with a stronger resolve to maintain
my identity as an Armenian, I was also astonished by the serious clash
of culture I had experienced. The Lebanese-Armenians considered us
North American-Armenians not as "Armenian" or patriotic as they were
because we would speak English, the Syrian-Armenians kept mainly to
themselves, especially the girls, none of us Western Armenians could
understand the Iranian-Armenians, to hear the Armenians from Argentina
speak with such a heavy Spanish accent was a little shocking and
the European Armenians were so different that we didn't interact. We
all considered ourselves to be Armenian but there was a disconnect;
we were in reality so different from one another.
Growing up in Canada, a multicultural society, where ethnic minorities
are encouraged to maintain their identity and culture, living with
a diverse group of different races taught us tolerance and acceptance.
But the labels almost always existed unless you could trace your
Canadian lineage back at least three of four generations. The rest
of us came from somewhere else. We sought out familiarity and made
sure to stick with those who were most like us.
This was true for the Armenian Diaspora. You were a "Lebanonahay" or
"Syriahay" or a "Barsgahay" and you generally kept to your own "kind."
And the other important division was the "Americahay" versus the
newly arrived hyphenated "other" Armenian, and then the issue became
not only about culture and language but turf.
And then our comfortable hyphenated world shifted as Armenia gained
independence and new labels were quickly assigned - we were the
Spyurkahays and they, the Hayastantsis. But the Hayastantsis also
had their own internal hyphenations based on city or region, and then
there was the Kharabakhtsi, the Javakhtsi, the Bakvetsi, etc. The most
ingrained distinction is reserved for the repatriates from the 1940s
who, 70 years on are still called "aghpars." We like to distinguish.
And in this strange Armenian configuration of multiple identities,
we moved to Armenia where we came to be known sometimes as "aghpars,"
sometimes the more polite terminology of repatriate, but most times
crazy for leaving behind the comforts of the West. And as a painfully
small trickle of Armenians from different parts of the world come to
live in the homeland, these divisions continue, not as severe as they
were in the Diaspora but they do persist. Some traditions die hard.
The Genocide not only deprived us of our ancestral homeland but it
deprived us of the feeling of belonging to a particular geography,
oneness and unity. Yes, we talk about the power of the Armenian,
our tenacity to survive in the face of adversity, and yes, we still
tend to agree on some things of national importance or significance
but most of the time we like to disagree on many things.
But today, we have ownership, there is geography, recognized borders,
a specific, tangible piece of land, soil, a state that belongs to all
of us, however small or incomplete it may be. And not only one, but
two. Although the Republic of Nagorno Karabakh is not yet recognized,
for all intents and purposes it is de facto a nation state, with its
corresponding institutions and living, breathing people, the second
Armenian state on this planet. And yet the hyphenations continue.
Our diverse narratives, our personal histories and experiences,
the countries and communities where we lived in our formative years,
which have positively impacted our world views and perceptions, are
strengths that we must celebrate and employ to ensure the empowerment
of not only the homeland but the Diaspora. Utilizing the strength of
Armenians right across the globe can be a tool for greatness.
We must re-imagine what it means to be an Armenian in the 21st
century. We are a global nation in a globalized world. The Genocide
viciously cast us out into the world, a dispersion of catastrophic
dimensions for our people. We must flip this tragic narrative on
its head. Without ceasing to struggle for the restoration of our
historic and legal rights, let's simultaneously use it to empower us
and not weaken us. It forced us to adapt, to become more flexible
and inventive. We had to learn how to live again. Some of us lived
in established democracies, others in authoritarian states; some of
us were caught in wars that had nothing to do with us and survived;
some had the privilege of living in countries where social justice
prevailed and in others where there was corruption, fundamentalism,
lack of freedoms and polarization; we learned tolerance and yet were
targets of intolerance; we learned to be innovative, cunning and how
to survive with nothing and then prosper. We educated ourselves and
our children. Individual Armenians around the world reached dizzying
heights of success because they intrinsically understood and had
felt hatred and deprivation and the only alternative was to succeed
and be better. We have lived in the west and the east, in the north
and south. We have covered the globe and have overcome. This is our
legacy, yet we hyphenate.
I am not a Canadian-Armenian, a Diaspora-Armenian, a repatriate,
or an aghpar, I am Armenian. So are you.
From: Baghdasarian