Embracing one’s heritage, even when challenging, is crucial to understanding oneself and helping preserve culture within the diaspora.
What does it mean to belong? For many, it’s a simple question. For me, growing up as part of the Armenian diaspora in New York City, it’s a journey of identity and heritage. I often felt like a jigsaw puzzle with pieces from two different sets: one belonged to the rich traditions of Armenia, and the other to the modern, fast-paced life of New York City. Fitting these pieces together has been the challenge and triumph of my life.
Navigating these two worlds was never easy. Moving to New York at the age of five, I was thrust into an energetic yet intimidating environment. The crowded streets and towering skyscrapers were a stark contrast to the community-focused, tradition-rich atmosphere of Yerevan. In Armenia, there was a sense of togetherness and history that permeated every interaction; in New York, I felt the isolation of modernity and the struggle to find my place in an infinite, unfamiliar landscape.
Attending the UN School, an international school where many diaspora and expatriate students came together, was a comforting change. This school celebrated diversity through events like UN Day, where we dressed in national costumes, paraded, participated in food fairs, and shared dishes from our respective cultures. During the first few years at UNIS, I participated in these events, wearing borrowed national attire from my family’s friends. I walked proudly with my red velvet dress embellished with gold designs, alongside those wearing Hanfus, Sarees, and Kibayas. I drooled over others’ delicious foods and presented my mom’s cheese-filled pastries. These celebrations were a source of pride and a reminder of our diverse backgrounds. However, over time it felt more like a costume I had to put on.
Despite this supportive environment, entering the school with no knowledge of English was still a bewildering experience. I felt lost and disconnected among classmates who seemed worlds apart from me, and each day felt like a battle to understand and be understood.
Over time, I began to develop a cynical attitude toward my homeland. The sharp contrast between New York’s prosperity and Armenia’s struggles made me wonder whether the traditions and customs I had grown up with could co-exist with the values and lifestyle of my new home. The broader atmosphere of New York, focused on modernity and success, further fueled my desire to fit in at any cost. As I adapted to my new life, I started to reject my Armenian heritage. I stopped speaking Armenian, refused to attend church, and tried to erase the remnants of my past. My father’s efforts to teach me about our history and language were met with resistance. I believed that embracing my new American identity meant forsaking my Armenian roots.
I should have realized it earlier, but the conflict in 2020 was a stark reminder of how fragile and fleeting our connections can be, compelling me to understand and embrace my heritage instead of rejecting it. The Second Nagorno-Karabakh War, which occurred from September 27 to November 10, 2020, brought immense hardship to many Armenian families. The news of families suffering great losses brought the pain of the nation to the surface. These losses were a reminder of the reality my family had left behind and the sacrifices they made for our safety. It forced me to confront the depth of my ignorance and the importance of my heritage. The history of my grandparents, who fled the Armenian genocide, and the resilience of my parents, who sought better opportunities through their work with the UN, became sources of inspiration rather than burdens to be forgotten.
I no longer wanted to reject the Armenian parties and events I was invited to. I became curious to see the dancing, singing, and exchanging stories. Now, I want to learn more about where I come from, to see the people with curved noses and dark hair, and to understand and embrace our shared history and future. I join protests supporting the remembrance of the Armenian genocide, dedicate my artworks to Armenian heritage, and strengthen my faith. These actions reconnect me with my past and help me appreciate the strength and perseverance embedded in my identity. I stood witness to the culture that we as a nation are remaking just by surviving and connecting with others.
Reflecting on my journey, I see it not just as a personal narrative but as a testament to the resilience and adaptability of those living between worlds. It’s a story of finding strength in heritage and using it to build a bridge to the future. This is the journey of the Armenian diaspora, and it is a journey of hope, survival, and identity. Embracing one’s heritage, even when challenging, is crucial to understanding oneself and helping preserve culture within the diaspora.
I encourage everyone, especially those living in the diaspora, to connect with their cultural roots. Understanding and embracing where you come from can provide a sense of belonging and identity that transcends the challenges of living between worlds. Your heritage is a source of strength and pride, a link to your past, and a guide for your future. Embrace it, celebrate it, and let it enrich your life and the lives of those around you.
