One Battle After Another

Glendale, home to one of the largest Armenian populations outside of Armenia, is the gateway city to a race with a rich, yet tragic culture that traces back to ancient history. My direct family history started in the early 20th century, where my great-grandmother was able to survive the Armenian Genocide, ensuring the existence of future generations of Armenians.

I was probably about five-years-old here. I was walking to my favorite park on Adams Street and made sure my dad brought his camera so he could snap a picture by the newly-bloomed daisies.

The result of this genocide was a massive diaspora spreading Armenians in every continent, and is a large reason as to why I ended up in the United States.

My grandma moved back to our homeland in her early life from Cairo, Egypt, which was where she was born, and years later married my grandpa in Armenia during her late teens. My aunt and mother were born years later and eventually immigrated to the States by the time my mom turned eight.

My mother, though technically an immigrant, was forced to quickly adapt to American culture as an Armenian in the states was almost unheard-of at the time. Though my grandparents were still facing racial prejudice by not being considered a “real American,” they were still able to both find jobs as hard-working CPA’s, despite the language barrier.

My father came to America in his 20s with his jazz band, in hopes of starting a new life. Growing up in Soviet Russia, then Armenia, which was also controlled by the USSR during his teen years, made him more than eager to escape the Communist regime in hopes for a single opportunity.

This map displays the distance between Hollywood, where there used to be a greater Armenian population, to Glendale. Hollywood now has a small section called “Little Armenia.”

Both of my parents lived in Hollywood in the early 90’s, which used to be the city containing a small population of Armenian immigrants. My parents met through a mutual friend. Their marriage and my welcoming to the world in 1998 came not too long after.

Pretty sure this is that boring party my parents claimed they brought to life. You can tell by their stress-free faces that this was way before I was born.

By this time my parents and grandparents, along with the rest of the small Armenian-immigrant population, moved to the small city of Glendale, California.

Over time Armenian immigration began to grow in this small suburban town. My mom who used to feel like the only of her kind in the city she lived in, now saw someone just like her in every corner she would turn.

I for one, have always felt in-place living in this city, because my community and culture has always given me a sense of identity and belonging. My story, though very similar to the person next to me, still allows me to have a distinct purpose. However, being an Armenian in the United States comes with a massive sense of responsibility. One of which is fighting for the rights of your people.

In the recent war against Azerbaijan, young Armenian soldiers were protecting our indigenous land, in hopes of gaining military aid. Overseas, diaspora Armenians were fighting for international recognition through protests and marches due to the lack of media coverage on the issue.

This video focuses on a young man and his Armenian immigrant parents who own a small kabob spot in Glendale. Their son Armen hopes to repay his parents for their hard-work growing up.

Glendale is now known throughout California as a metropolis city filled with luxurious shopping centers and trendy dining spots. Both the recent protests and high outside traffic in the downtown area of Glendale has created a spark in COVID cases and virus exposure, both of which have been extremely hard to maintain due to the city’s increasing population.

This is one of the smaller protests on Maryland Ave, which is one of the only streets in Glendale with light traffic due to the outdoor dining tables. The comments underneath these videos are heartbreaking due to the negative way the media has portrayed Armenians.

I along with many others in my community get my news from social media and news channels. The older generation of Armenians typically use Facebook as their primary social media. I would like to know if my community ever relates to the news they see.

Lack of media coverage has brought up many concerns in my community. Media coverage on my community is almost non-existent. Had there been no need for recognition, we wouldn’t have to protest in large groups, ultimately increasing the infection rate. The main news coverage I noticed during the war was done by two Armenian-American journalists, possibly the only two that we know of.

It seems as if the only people who represent our community are the people who are in it.