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WHERE DOES MY ARMENIA STOP AND MY DIASPORA BEGIN?
By Gegham Mughnetsyan
June 26, 2013
http://www.armenianweekly.com/2013/06/26/where-does-my-armenia-stop-and-my-diaspora-begin/
Gegham Mughnetsyan (photo by Karineh Minissian)
I was born in Armenia (in Gyumri to be exact) when the Soviet Empire
was taking its last breaths and Armenian independence was only months
away. I belonged to a generation that had to grow up in a period of
political, economic, and cultural change, which only brought confusion
about who or what was to blame for that gloomy, endless transition.
Fifteen years later, I found myself a world away in Glendale, Calif.,
in pursuit of a life that promised better opportunities for my parents,
my two brothers, and me. Aside from having to learn the language
and the customs of this strange land, we found ourselves conflicted
about our "Armenian-ness" in the land of the diaspora; many of our
peers did not speak Armenian nor had ever been to Armenia, yet they
considered themselves equally Armenian. Unlike them, my childhood
was not spent at Homenetmen or youth camps, my mother did not make
choreg, I did not go to Sunday School, May 28th was not that special,
my grandparents were not genocide survivors, and April 24th was not
a day of protest but rather a day off when we'd gather around the
television and watch "Mayrig."
For our peers who were born in the diaspora, Armenia was the "promised
land" where everyone spoke Armenian and one could see Mount Ararat
from their window. For us, Armenia was and is a collection of memories
from a childhood spent in cold winters, with a shortage of everything
from drinking water to textbooks to electricity-always in a state of
constant need and of less and less hope...
I have been grateful to this country for all that it has given to me
and my family. I have found "little Armenias" in church groups and
student organizations, and have kept those Armenias close to my heart.
I have walked in Little Armenia (Glendale) and chanted "1915 never
again," I have donated to the Armenia Fund, attended banquets, danced
while Harout Pamboukjian sang. Yet, I still constantly find myself
outside of the diasporan structure.
I have looked at the diaspora's efforts and been critical of how it is
not a unified force. I've been equally critical of how Armenia treats
the diaspora as an ATM machine that exists solely to provide monetary
resources with as little involvement in Armenian affairs as possible.
Today, after having graduated from Berkeley, where in my capacity as
the president of the Armenian Students' Association I got to meet with
Armenians from different "stages" of the diaspora, I am at crossroads.
As a member of the first generation of so-called "Stantsis," who were
born in independent Armenia and left to pursue opportunities thousands
of miles away, I find myself equally distant from both directions. And
I'm trying to figure out where my Armenia stops and my diaspora begins.
Gegham Mughnetsyan was born in Gyumri, Armenia, in 1991. He moved
to the United States in 2006 and settled in Glendale, Calif.,
with his family. In May 2013, he graduated from the University of
California, Berkeley with a B.A. in peace and conflict studies. His
honors thesis was titled, "The United States' Foreign Policy toward
Nagorno-Karabagh."
By Gegham Mughnetsyan
June 26, 2013
http://www.armenianweekly.com/2013/06/26/where-does-my-armenia-stop-and-my-diaspora-begin/
Gegham Mughnetsyan (photo by Karineh Minissian)
I was born in Armenia (in Gyumri to be exact) when the Soviet Empire
was taking its last breaths and Armenian independence was only months
away. I belonged to a generation that had to grow up in a period of
political, economic, and cultural change, which only brought confusion
about who or what was to blame for that gloomy, endless transition.
Fifteen years later, I found myself a world away in Glendale, Calif.,
in pursuit of a life that promised better opportunities for my parents,
my two brothers, and me. Aside from having to learn the language
and the customs of this strange land, we found ourselves conflicted
about our "Armenian-ness" in the land of the diaspora; many of our
peers did not speak Armenian nor had ever been to Armenia, yet they
considered themselves equally Armenian. Unlike them, my childhood
was not spent at Homenetmen or youth camps, my mother did not make
choreg, I did not go to Sunday School, May 28th was not that special,
my grandparents were not genocide survivors, and April 24th was not
a day of protest but rather a day off when we'd gather around the
television and watch "Mayrig."
For our peers who were born in the diaspora, Armenia was the "promised
land" where everyone spoke Armenian and one could see Mount Ararat
from their window. For us, Armenia was and is a collection of memories
from a childhood spent in cold winters, with a shortage of everything
from drinking water to textbooks to electricity-always in a state of
constant need and of less and less hope...
I have been grateful to this country for all that it has given to me
and my family. I have found "little Armenias" in church groups and
student organizations, and have kept those Armenias close to my heart.
I have walked in Little Armenia (Glendale) and chanted "1915 never
again," I have donated to the Armenia Fund, attended banquets, danced
while Harout Pamboukjian sang. Yet, I still constantly find myself
outside of the diasporan structure.
I have looked at the diaspora's efforts and been critical of how it is
not a unified force. I've been equally critical of how Armenia treats
the diaspora as an ATM machine that exists solely to provide monetary
resources with as little involvement in Armenian affairs as possible.
Today, after having graduated from Berkeley, where in my capacity as
the president of the Armenian Students' Association I got to meet with
Armenians from different "stages" of the diaspora, I am at crossroads.
As a member of the first generation of so-called "Stantsis," who were
born in independent Armenia and left to pursue opportunities thousands
of miles away, I find myself equally distant from both directions. And
I'm trying to figure out where my Armenia stops and my diaspora begins.
Gegham Mughnetsyan was born in Gyumri, Armenia, in 1991. He moved
to the United States in 2006 and settled in Glendale, Calif.,
with his family. In May 2013, he graduated from the University of
California, Berkeley with a B.A. in peace and conflict studies. His
honors thesis was titled, "The United States' Foreign Policy toward
Nagorno-Karabagh."