Sunday, April 26, 2009
Choosing Armenian
BY TAMAR KEVONIAN
Everyone from the taxi driver to the grocer to the high powered financier has a story to tell. Each one with a unique perspective on life and ideas on what it means to be Armenian.
A hundred years ago, our ancestors lived in a land that was culturally homogenous. Their identity was a given, their home was known and their history was second nature. They were either from Adana or Van or any other point in between and there was no need to explain who they were.
In the ninety-four years since the Genocide we have created microcosm around the globe of the world our grandparents knew. Hayrenagtsagan (compatriotic) organizations exist to perpetuate the subtle aspects of our identity. Where is your family from? is a common question that goes beyond the mere geographic location of where our families found themselves following the slaughter, but a deeper question to get to the root of who we are by trying to pinpoint the exact location of our familial origins.
This may seem redundant, especially now, almost two or three generations and several continents removed from the source of our distinctiveness but it belies a deeper question: what is the nature of our transplanted nation? Despite the existence of the Republic of Armenia we are a borderless nation that exists within the boundaries of our adopted countries because wherever we are can always find another Vanetsi (a person from Van) or Adanatsi (a person from Adana) and instantly find common ground.
In today's challenging world we are concerned not only with the concerns of the politics of our host countries, the communities in which we live, the needs of our families but also have the added preoccupation of our tiny republic, our Armenian communities, our history and the perpetuation of the collective future of the Armenian Diaspora.
The challenges of being Armenian were a hot topic of debate at a recent gathering of friends to celebrate the baptism of one of the newest members of the Armenian community.
I'm proud to be Armenian, stated Carlo.
But given the choice would you want to be Armenian? I asked.
Absolutely, he affirmed
Why is this an issue? asked Raffi, playing the devil's advocate.
I wonder how seriously we take our cultural identity when we give children westernized names and don't teach them to speak or write Armenian.
It's difficult for Americans to say Armenian names, was the response.
I have that problem all the time, said Vicken and went on to describe the various challenges he faces when spelling his last name during the course of conducting his business.
But if they can say %u218Schwarzenegger' and elect him governor of California, then they can easily say any of our names, I responded.
H. Edward Deluzain in his article entitled Name and Personal Identity said it best, This bestowal of name and identity is a kind of symbolic contract between the society and the individual. The sense of personal identity and uniqueness that a name gives us is at the heart of why names interest us and why they are important to us as individuals and to our society as a whole.
Our sense of identity is shaped by our names (either first or last name) and practices such as dropping the ian, simplifying or Anglicizing our last names or using European/American first names may be the first step in distancing ourselves from our history.
One of the other particular challenges of being Armenian is also learning the language. The discussion included a larger argument for cultural responsibility encompassing the Armenian language. Hundreds of indigenous languages die every day in today's global world. It's an added burden on many parents to fight the overwhelming tide of the local societies in which they live. Even if they start life by speaking Armenian, children quickly switch to English once they start school and parents find themselves responding in kind. Many don't bother to learn or teach their children the alphabet.
Most of us are now more proficient in English and opt to use in our daily communications.
Sure, I'll answer a couple of questions, said Varoujan when asked, in Armenian, for an interview.
Great, I said.
Is it in Armenian? he asked in a panic. I can't speak Armenian, he said in Armenian.
The Armenian language and its alphabet have been in existence for over a millennium. Much like the Sumerian hyroglygh, which was in common use and is the basis for any modern alphabet, it did not survive the passage of time and completely disappeared from known history. In fact, after its rediscovery in the 20th century, it remained unreadable for decades.
A language may have tens of thousands of speakers but be endangered because children are no longer learning them, and speakers are in the process of shifting to using the national language instead of their ethnic languages.
Some linguists, like Michael Krauss and Stephen Wurn, argue that at least 3,000 of the world's 6,000-7,000 languages are liable to be lost before the year 2100. When a language dies, its speakers, culture, art and history also die. Once that happens there is almost no chance of reviving them.
In was inevitable that we would continue to exist after the perpetration of the Genocide. We are a tenacious people as evidenced by our unwillingness to give up in the face of adversity and to thrive in unfamiliar environments. But our greatest victory is that we continue to exist as Armenians. It is a choice our grandparents made and it is a choice we continue to make. Our ethnic names and our distinctive language is simply a vehicle to realize our choices.
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