Response to GNP

My response

Please give me feedback – I know its long (I probably need to shorten it before I sent it in) but I really want to send it – its diplomatic enough right?

Pressures on child indicative of problem

The column written by Ani Amirkhanian ("Some opt out of culture," Writing the Right, Saturday) about the Armenian student who was chastised for wanting to speak English and wanting to integrate himself into the culture that he and his family have adopted was a telling sign of the times in Glendale.

I found the article spelled out exactly why the majority of Armenians who have fled Armenia and chosen to live in the U.S. and particularly Glendale was because their country could not provide them with the benefits that we appreciate and cherish as vital to our culture. To chastise, single out, and pressure a child to not speak the language of the country he has adopted exemplifies the reason why the Armenian community is having great difficulty being accepted by those of us who understand what there is to offer in this country.

If I had to flee my country and take up residence in another country I would fully expect that I would need to accept the culture and fit into the society of my new home.

TIM RAGUS
Glendale

I was rather amused with Mr. Ragus's bold statements in his letter last week. I wonder if he based his assumptions on a study done on racial tensions in Glendale or if he was just frustrated with his own experiences and chose to create his own social theories.

Though I am no sociologist myself, I'd like to contribute my own theory.

My mother enrolled me in Saturday Armenian language classes when I was 7 or 8 years old (maybe even younger). Like most young "American" children, I was more interested in Saturday morning cartoons than I was in Saturday school. The subject of the class was irrelevant. Whether my mom had enrolled me in Spanish, Japanese, or sign language classes, I would have probably walked into class with the same indifferent attitude that I had in my Armenian class. As soon as class was over, my classmates and I were running out the door eager to enjoy the gorgeous Southern California weather.

When my mother would "force" me to practice the piano, she'd always say, "Alina, you are young and do not understand the value of the opportunities you have yet. One day, when you are older, you will realize how wonderful it is that you can play the piano." Needless to say, I didn't listen. I stopped playing the piano. I also gave up learning Armenian.

And then, I grew up.

I suddenly realized that the people I admired most were the well rounded, cultured individuals – those who were well read, spoke several languages, played an instrument, kept up with world affairs, etc. Moreover, I suddenly realized that no matter where I went, my heritage would ALWAYS (thankfully) be a part of me. It was then that I realized what a golden opportunity I had missed. Suddenly, with an already heavy work load (taking nearly twice the number of units most of my friends were taking), I signed up for Armenian language classes.

You see, my parents didn't come from Armenia. They came from Iran. For hundreds of years, Armenians in Iran had (have) kept their culture and their identity while integrating into the Iranian way of life. They lived life off the Iranian calendar, listened to Iranian pop music, learned Farsi, and worked with Iranians. When my parents came to America, they were not trying to escape their heritage or their culture; they were trying to escape a revolution. They could have stayed in London but were under the impression that here, in America, we would have more freedom to "be Armenian;" free from the racial tension that European countries had a reputation for. My parents believed that in America, they could get a job with an American company AND speak Armenian in public (whereas in other countries, discrimination was common in the workplace).

In America, my parents struggled hard to find the balance between being American and being Armenian. We celebrated Christmas on December 25^th and then again on January 6^th. We had a big feast for Thanksgiving. They encouraged me to speak English at home everyday until I became fluent (I was never put in ESL) but once they realized that I was ONLY speaking English, they tried to encourage me to not forget the Armenian language.

As a teenager I just wanted to be part of the people making fun of Armenians, not the people being made fun of. Perhaps that is the reason the person Ani Amirkhanian writes of was so eager to not speak the language. Its empowering to be on the side that belittles and points fingers at the other side (everyone needs a scapegoat for their problems). I am no longer ashamed to be Armenian - American. I am proud to come from an ancient history that dates as far back as Babylonian times. I am proud to speak a language that is so ancient, it predates many of the languages we speak today. And yet, at the same time, I am proud to be a part of this 200 year old democratic experiment called the United States of America.

Many of you have not had to flee a country in recent times. Fleeing a war or a revolution is not the same as trying to change your own history or identity. And accepting a different culture does not preclude keeping your heritage. We are who we are. And many of us came to America thinking that this land of opportunity wouldn't discriminate against us just because we happened to speak a language they'd never heard. Who ever thought that it would be the Americans, not the Iranians (or the Iranian government) that would tell us to forget who we are, where we came from and the language we speak?

And before you tell me to go back to my country: I was born here. This is my country as much as it is yours. I take my duty to vote more seriously than a great number of 5^th generation "Americans." I get involved in the political process. I learn as much as I can about this country's history. I do my best to be a good, well rounded American citizen. And if I choose to speak Armenian, it is my prerogative. After all, it's a free country.