It’s curious how our interests change over time. Have you ever reflected on that when thinking about your life? 

Growing up, I wanted to be anything other than a member of the Armenian immigrant family in our neighborhood. I wanted to be like everyone else on my street – descendants of European settlers that had made the East Coast (and my town) their home. I wanted sandy blonde hair, light skin and blue eyes. I wanted to fit in and not stick out. 

My parents held onto their heritage tightly not just because they were first generation immigrants but also because their parents’ had just survived a genocide. So, the significance of being who we were – the descendants of ethnic cleansing victims – was all the more important.

I distinctly remember the language, music, food, traditions, religious, historical and cultural references that permeated our home on a daily basis. There was no escaping it, other than with my dismissive and likely disdain-filled attitude. The more my parents insisted on embracing our heritage, the more I resisted. 

Over time, that became an increasing point of tension, as my interest in and love for everything and anything to do with Spanish and Latin American cultures developed and took hold of me. They wanted me to learn Armenian and I wanted to learn Spanish. They wanted me to attend Armenian events and I wanted to study abroad in Spain. They wanted me to embrace Armenian music, food, history and literature and I wanted to be like my friends, immersing ourselves in American culture and all that this entailed. To say they felt betrayed may not be accurate but it’s pretty close. 

At that time, I didn’t see the bigger picture. Can you relate? I saw things in more absolute and binary terms, “either or”and not “and”. In my mind, in order to accept one I had to reject the other. In order to be independent, I had to diminish the tie with my heritage (figuratively speaking). To some degree, this is part of the individuation process but with an added layer of cultural shedding thrown in.

It is only now that I see the value in the integration of distinct piece parts and, consequently, becoming whole in the process. What’s bittersweet, though, is that the people who so fervently strove to pass on valuable familial and cultural treasures are no longer here to see the homecoming. 

Do you ever wish that the people who you loved and have since departed could see you now?