Armenian Identity as Strength
by Arya Jemal
September 15, 2021
As we come up on the one year commemoration of the genocidal attack on Artsakh, I have tried to reflect on what those months felt like and what it means to be Armenian.
The last year and a half has been extremely difficult for everyone, in many different ways and for so many different reasons. So much of this last year felt personally embarrassing. I felt embarrassed sharing about Armenia on social media. I felt embarrassed asking for support and solidarity for Armenia and Artsakh. It felt "dramatic", but genocide is dramatic -- especially when you are watching it in real time on your phone, 24/7. I was explaining to a coworker last year how all I had been doing day and night was watching the news of the war in Artsakh. He asked me, "Are you really watching it that much? Is there really that much news to watch?"
There was and is such a fundamental disconnect between Armenians and non-Armenians about what happened in Artsakh in 2020.
For Armenians in the diaspora, we watched a second genocide happen from our phones. Genocide is not an abstract concept for me and for most Armenians. All my great-grandparents were genocide survivors. My family is spread out on four continents not by choice, but by displacement and intergenerational trauma.
“My family is spread out on four continents not by choice, but by displacement and intergenerational trauma.”
I could tell the story of how my maternal great-grandmother was forced to march through the Syrian desert in 1915, had her daughter stolen from her, and found her daughter 30 years later in Egypt. I could tell the story of how my paternal great-grandmother and her sister were the only 2 of 8 siblings to survive the genocide. I could tell stories of resilience about my grandfather, who was an officer and aerobotics engineer in the Syrian Air Force. I could tell stories of resilience about my mother, who grew up in West Beirut during the Lebanese Civil War. I could tell the story of why my last name is Jemal - an Assyrian last name - and not Armenian.
So watching another genocide happen in real time, while getting comments like "you need a happier attitude" or radio silence from friends and colleagues was extremely difficult.
I think about how difficult it was for Armenians, a group that has "achieved whiteness " in the US, to be supported during the war in Artsakh, and then how difficult it is for BIPOC communities to find support. The Armenian community cannot expect people to show up for Armenia and Artsakh if we do not take the time to show up for our Black, Indigenous, and POC communities. Solidarity is not a transaction.
Being Armenian is more than our traumas though, and it goes deeper than our DNA. I often get told, mostly from other Armenians, that I do not look Armenian. It happened frequently growing up, but I never understood why people felt the need to tell me. Those comments were usually paired with a comment about my blonde hair or (comparatively) smaller nose size. I was at an Armenian fundraiser in August of 2021 and it happened again. Some Armenian person I did not know said with exuberance, “You don’t look Armenian!”
I think Armenians intend the comment, “You don’t look Armenian,” as a genuine compliment, always noting the benefits I have by not exuding “traditional Armenian features”. As if it is an achievement that I do not look Armenian. They compliment me on having blonde hair instead of black, or a small(er) nose instead of a large one, essentially congratulating me for looking white.
“They compliment me on having blonde hair instead of black, or a small(er) nose instead of a large one, essentially congratulating me for looking white.”
Armenians - first, stop deciding whether people are Armenian or not based on their looks. Stop commenting on people’s appearances, period. Having black hair and a big nose are not the factors that create an Armenian. It is intrusive and exclusive. Mixed race Armenians, adopted Armenians, queer Armenians, trans Armenians, are all excluded when you make these comments. Second, stop trying to “ascend to whiteness” by adhering to Western beauty standards. There is no achievement in not looking Armenian.
Being Armenian is more than our traumas and it is more than our DNA. For me, being Armenian means spending time outdoors, listening to Armenian երք (music), eating Armenian food, or taking action for Armenia and Artsakh. The genocidal attack on Artsakh has made it difficult for me to celebrate joy, but we should celebrate our successes just as we mourn our losses. Armenians are more than our traumas.
“The genocidal attack on Artsakh has made it difficult for me to celebrate joy, but we should celebrate our successes just as we mourn our losses. Armenians are more than our traumas.”
The one major positive to come out of the last year is being a part of Yerazad and finding Armenian friends. Despite growing up in California, I did not know anyone that was Armenian, excluding my own family. For the first time, I feel connected to an Armenian community.
About being Armenian, I will leave this by Willilam Saroyan:
“My birthplace was California, but I couldn't forget Armenia, so what is one's country? Is it land of the earth, in a specific place? Rivers there? Lakes? The sky there? The way the moon comes up there? And the sun? Is one's country the trees, the vineyards, the grass, the birds, the rocks, the hills and summer and winter? Is it the animal rhythm of the living there? The huts and houses, the streets of cities, the tables and chairs, and the drinking of tea and talking? Is it the peach ripening in summer heat on the bough? Is it the dead in the earth there?”
Arya Jemal is a Project Coordinator for the New York Public Interest Research Group (NYPIRG) and an M.S. student in Columbia University's Sustainability Management program. Arya is also a part of Yerazad, an Armenian coalition dedicated to transnational solidarity and Armenian liberation. She is an Armenian from Orange County, CA, and her family are Armenian immigrants from Syria and Lebanon. Arya is currently based in NYC.