INTERSECTIONS: AN EXPLOSIVE REMINDER OF INTOLERANCE
Glendale News Press, CA
June 26 2013
By Liana Aghajanian
June 26, 2013 | 3:42 p.m.
When I lived in Armenia during the summer of 2011, there was a new
bar down the street from my apartment. I found myself there most
nights when I stayed within the confines of the capital.
On those warm, sweltering evenings, it acted as one of the only places
in the city that gave refuge to and brought together a wide array
of people. With its local beer, bands and sandwiches bused in from a
nearby cafe, it was an open, comfortable space, where intellectuals,
music-loving youth, diplomats, journalists and activists mingled into
the early morning hours.
New friendships were formed, old friends christened it as their new
meeting place. The owners of the bar doubled as musicians who stood
in to provide the soundtrack for the night.
The conversations and connections that I formed in that bar were
unforgettable but they all seem slightly bittersweet now.
Roughly a year after I left, the bar was bombed in the middle of
the night by two youth who belonged to a nationalist right-wing
group. The bar was destroyed, and so was the spirit of those who
sought its sanctuary during those warm months.
The bombing, which sparked a national conversation, was carried
out as an act of revenge against the gay and lesbian community -
a group that frequented the bar and is still very much subject to
discrimination in Armenia.
It was a message to say, "We not only don't want your kind around,
but we certainly don't want your kind out in the open, mingling and
having a good time."
It left a big impression on me. It was the first time I had had a
physical, adult connection to a place that was impacted by violence.
Looking at the blackened insides of a place where I once sat, enjoyed
a few drinks and, by chance, met fascinating people was surreal. The
windows were blown out, the air conditioner was a mangled mess,
a calculator that had been left on the counter was completely melted.
I felt an indirect connection to intolerance. What if people had
been there? What if my friends had been hurt? What if the boys who
carried out their hate crime hadn't waited an entire year and I had
been caught in the middle of it?
Another year has passed since the bombing and the bar no longer
exists. Its owners, from what I can tell, have left, too. Of course,
there are still so many places to spend those warm Yerevan summer
nights - places I remember and places I'll get to explore when I make
my way back this year.
But that special bar was on my mind this week as Supreme Court rulings
delivered landmark decisions that bolstered the gay marriage movement.
The news took me back to it, transporting me to a better time when
the bar's walls were painted with reproductions of Lichtenstein pop
art, its bathroom that had no mirror but had a painted square outline
above the sink that said, "You are beautiful," and its comfortable
atmosphere full of people who were able to treat each other with
mutual respect despite different lifestyles, outlooks and preferences.
--
LIANA AGHAJANIAN is a Los Angeles-based journalist whose work has
appeared in L.A. Weekly, Eurasianet and The Atlantic. She may be
reached at [email protected].
http://www.glendalenewspress.com/opinion/tn-gnp-me-liana-an-explosive-reminder-of-intolerance-20130626,0,7515681.story
Glendale News Press, CA
June 26 2013
By Liana Aghajanian
June 26, 2013 | 3:42 p.m.
When I lived in Armenia during the summer of 2011, there was a new
bar down the street from my apartment. I found myself there most
nights when I stayed within the confines of the capital.
On those warm, sweltering evenings, it acted as one of the only places
in the city that gave refuge to and brought together a wide array
of people. With its local beer, bands and sandwiches bused in from a
nearby cafe, it was an open, comfortable space, where intellectuals,
music-loving youth, diplomats, journalists and activists mingled into
the early morning hours.
New friendships were formed, old friends christened it as their new
meeting place. The owners of the bar doubled as musicians who stood
in to provide the soundtrack for the night.
The conversations and connections that I formed in that bar were
unforgettable but they all seem slightly bittersweet now.
Roughly a year after I left, the bar was bombed in the middle of
the night by two youth who belonged to a nationalist right-wing
group. The bar was destroyed, and so was the spirit of those who
sought its sanctuary during those warm months.
The bombing, which sparked a national conversation, was carried
out as an act of revenge against the gay and lesbian community -
a group that frequented the bar and is still very much subject to
discrimination in Armenia.
It was a message to say, "We not only don't want your kind around,
but we certainly don't want your kind out in the open, mingling and
having a good time."
It left a big impression on me. It was the first time I had had a
physical, adult connection to a place that was impacted by violence.
Looking at the blackened insides of a place where I once sat, enjoyed
a few drinks and, by chance, met fascinating people was surreal. The
windows were blown out, the air conditioner was a mangled mess,
a calculator that had been left on the counter was completely melted.
I felt an indirect connection to intolerance. What if people had
been there? What if my friends had been hurt? What if the boys who
carried out their hate crime hadn't waited an entire year and I had
been caught in the middle of it?
Another year has passed since the bombing and the bar no longer
exists. Its owners, from what I can tell, have left, too. Of course,
there are still so many places to spend those warm Yerevan summer
nights - places I remember and places I'll get to explore when I make
my way back this year.
But that special bar was on my mind this week as Supreme Court rulings
delivered landmark decisions that bolstered the gay marriage movement.
The news took me back to it, transporting me to a better time when
the bar's walls were painted with reproductions of Lichtenstein pop
art, its bathroom that had no mirror but had a painted square outline
above the sink that said, "You are beautiful," and its comfortable
atmosphere full of people who were able to treat each other with
mutual respect despite different lifestyles, outlooks and preferences.
--
LIANA AGHAJANIAN is a Los Angeles-based journalist whose work has
appeared in L.A. Weekly, Eurasianet and The Atlantic. She may be
reached at [email protected].
http://www.glendalenewspress.com/opinion/tn-gnp-me-liana-an-explosive-reminder-of-intolerance-20130626,0,7515681.story