Reduced to a Footnote in History

Every year on April 24, Armenians gather together in protest of an atrocity that is now over a century old. Many things occurred during that time, displacement, theft, rape, murder. They killed our intellectuals and artists. The destroyed a burgeoning culture renaissance. 

In its place was left a lost and scattered people. 

But worse than all that, we lost our historical identity. What are Armenians? What does it mean to be Armenian? Some people say being of Armenian descent is enough. Others will claim that cultural components are necessary, such as cuisine and language. For some, Christianity and Armenianess go hand in hand. 

There is no unifying consensus; how can there be when we are not a unified people?

We hold the belief that if we yell loud enough and long enough that someone will eventually hear us. The truth is, the louder you yell and the longer you do it, the more people get annoyed. This is our lot, a century of being ignored, of being paid lip service to. 

The ultimate truth is that no one cares, at least not enough to eschew politics over what is right. Even now, when a president of the US finally uses the word Genocide, one has to ask why? What was the motivation? And did Armenia, and Armenians, once again lose for another's gain?

The Armenian Genocide is an emotional issue, to be sure. And being emotional, this kind of short term appeasement is easy. Armenians abroad want this kind of recognition without consideration of the cost for those who actually live in Armenia. Note that this great victory came after a terrible loss to Azerbaijan. 

And as we looked for support, none came. Words are meaningless when action does not follow.

Licking our wounds, we take solace in this act of recognition, even as it may bring more strife from those whom it admonishes. Sadly, the issue of genocide has become the principle unifier of our desperate people. Our identity is almost singularly tied to this horrifying event. It has stunted our growth as a people and stolen our historical voice. 

The Armenian Genocide is a blanket we wrap ourselves in. We think it protects us, validates us, makes others pity us. History has shown otherwise. Like most blankets, whatever protection it provides is illusory at best .

Our literature is not read. Our music is not heard. Our poets are an afterthought relegated to Saturday classes in Armenian schools. We have no real sense of self, so when people ask what an Armenian is we respond with "we are the victims of genocide."

How sad it is to be reduced to a footnote in history; even worse, we do it to ourselves.