Where Is Your Genocide Allegiance: Here or There?

It all started out with an unexpected e-mail from a good friend attending the Armenian Genocide commemoration in Times Square April 27. He wrote to tell me something I did not know. Not having been there before, he was impressed with both the turnout and the number of dignitaries present. According to his report, about 800 to 1,000 people were present from different vantage points along the East Coast. He had hopped on a bus from Watertown and appeared quite pleased with the way everything was organized by the Knights of Vartan. In closing, he added how astounding it was that all Armenian religious and political entities were in attendance on the same stage. He enclosed two JPEG photos of the event. Had he been in North Andover, he would have saved himself an eight-hour bus trip and another two hours by car while doing his own community a favor. I pose this question: “Where does your allegiance lie, locally or 200 miles away?” As it is, attendance figures have waned over the years. Sad to admit, Haverhill drew only a dozen diehards. About 50 regulars showed up in Peabody. At Chelmsford, maybe 30 worshippers. In North Andover, barely 200 walked through the door—dthe smallest crowd in 20 years. In its peak years, 300 guests was no exaggeration for North Andover, given the pan-Armenian influence. The Merrimack Valley and southern New Hampshire communities boast about 5,200 Armenians, most of whom have never set foot at a commemoration. In case you haven’t heard, Lowell will be the site of a rather imposing monument dedication May 10. The committee to which I belong has done yeoman’s work to get this project realized. I decided to poll my fellow members with an e-mail of my own about loyalty. It read: “Dear Committee, I am faced with a conflict on May 10 and ask you all to help me decide. I’ve been motivated into attending a genocide commemoration in New York that day for photography purposes and not take part in the Lowell unveiling. I feel it’s important to attend a larger observance where my presence would make a more valid impression. Therefore, I am approaching you for advice toward which way to turn. Shall I remain in Lowell that day, or travel to New York for their commemoration? A quick reply would be appreciated since I feel torn between a rock and a hard place.” Ten minutes later, I received my first reply from the group’s chairman. Then a second and again a third, all lickety-split. Armen didn’t buy it, knowing me too well. “Do you love New York? I don’t! You must be up to something,” he said. “Given the option, your camera is more at home with us.” Along with his reply came a smiley face. Next came an e-mail from the only female member, Kathy, who sent her “two cents” worth, as she put it. “Why doesn’t someone out there take pictures, leaving you free in Lowell?” she wondered. “After spending the past year on our committee, how could you suddenly leave? But do what you feel is right.” My partner on genocide talks to local schools was rather suspicious. Ara’s a computer geek who lives and dies by the social network. “Curious as to what event is happening in New York?” he proposed. “Nothing seems to be showing up on the radar screen. Our monument dedication would seem to be a once-in-a-lifetime event.” I told him “Yonkers” after the movie “Lost in Yonkers.” “They’re keeping it quiet to prevent any Turkish intervention.” He seemed to have bought it. No further reply came forth. I must admit that a dozen schools within our territorial grasp have become more educated on genocidal issues with our visits through the Armenian Genocide Education Committee of Merrimack Valley. And a bigger push is being made for the centennial. Everyone in Chelmsford knows George Simonian. He served as principal of the high school there and has an athletic field named in his honor. He’s been a vital cog on this committee and always one for speaking his piece. “If the New York affair is an annual one—and it was up to me—I would attend this once-in-a-lifetime dedication in Lowell,” he urged. As for Richard, New York was strictly out of the question and Lowell was where to stay. “If you’re a baseball nut like I am, how can you leave Boston for New York?” he asked me. Lastly, on came Avedis, a well-established deacon in the church and a man of many opinions, good or bad. He’s a bit of a philosopher, too. “The truth shall set you free. But first, it will make you miserable,” he confessed. “Whatever you decide is the right one.” No doubt, the man put a guilt trip on me so I’m staying put.

Where Is Your Genocide Allegiance: Here or There?

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Tom Vartabedian

This story is FREE for you...

Tom Vartabedian

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