My Armenianness is queer

Perhaps I should have been more cautious when I chose the front row table for my girlfriend and me in clear view of a room full of Armenians listening to folk music. MVF Band was visiting New York City from Yerevan, and I can never resist my urge to introduce my girlfriend, who is Korean, to the beloved aspects of my culture. So we bought tickets and traveled downtown to Drom. I felt the familiar ping of alarm bells when I overheard guests entering the music venue chatting in Armenian. She was one of the few people in the room who was not Armenian, and we were certainly the only visible lesbians. She told me later that she noticed people staring at us—not with hostility, but curiosity. Yet I did not notice. By the time of the concert, fear had given way to unconscious joy. 

MVF Band adopts Armenian folk melodies along with the contemporary rhythms and improvisation of jazz. I was thrilled by the innovation, and swayed and hummed from my seat. The audience was equally ecstatic. They whistled, clapped mid-performance, and shouted Armenian expressions of approval like “jan” and “apres” to the performers. Their behavior and mannerisms evoked cultural cues from my childhood, from many concerts and dance parties, or “parahandesner.” One man drumming a nearby table with his palms and fingers could have been my father. I rarely spend time with groups of Armenians anymore, but whenever I do, I am surprised by the recognition that exhilarates my subconscious memory, the rush of belonging. 

My girlfriend was equally effusive. Several times she hugged me from behind and swayed with me mid-song. I do not know if her musically inclined ear was also inspired by the innovative music, or whether it was her response to witnessing my joy. Yet I could feel her delight in the way she rubbed my fingers or squeezed my shoulders randomly throughout the concert. 

I felt pure happiness that night. My queerness and Armenianness perfectly coalesced. It was not only because I got to introduce my girlfriend to Armenian music and enjoy it together. I felt all facets of my core experiences present—my childhood, cultural markers etched into my memory, Armenian music, my partner and my queer identity. I was also struck by how embodied customary Armenian behaviors and expressions are. Audience members were so passionate and expressed how moved they felt by the music, loudly and without shame. To be Armenian is to feel deeply and to show it. How queer is that? 

From a young age I have felt the tension between being queer and Armenian. In order to be welcomed into Armenian spaces, I had to conceal my identity and be cautious about what preferences, fashion choices, political views and personal details I could share. I have frequently had diatribes flung in my direction about how LGBTQ+ people are traitors to the Armenian community. Ironically, I am heavily involved with Armenian organizations and causes, not the least in my almost three years as a staff writer for this historic newspaper. I love my community even when it does not love me back. Yet if I am being honest, I still feel uneasiness when I enter a room full of Armenians, triggered by my survival instincts. I am still learning to socialize with Armenians, like during my cathartic night at Drom. 

The conflict between Armenian and queer identity is a common one among LGBTQ+ Armenians. For some, these identities are posed as a choice—embracing one identity and community requires rejecting the other. For most, however, this choice is an impossible one. By necessity, we find creative ways to reconcile queerness and Armenianness, in order to inhabit both simultaneously. I have reframed my understanding of what it means to be an Armenian in order to make room for my queerness to flourish alongside it. 

I have found that my queer and Armenian identities share a kinship. I come from two communities that have survived persecution and oppression and have built collective tools to resist and heal together. Armenians and queer people fiercely love their communities and cultures, in response to vitriol and attempted erasure. We take care of each other. We are loud and unapologetic in celebrating our identities and demanding justice. Evenings like the jazz concert fortify my belief that queer and Armenian culture have so much in common.

Lillian Avedian in a traditional Armenian headdress (photojene)

This belief was shaken by the recent protests in Los Angeles. Within the first week of June, two protests against LGBTQ+ inclusion in school curricula in North Hollywood and Glendale, neighborhoods with large Armenian populations, turned violent. I have obsessively watched videos of Armenian protesters stoking violence against peaceful LGBTQ+ activists and spreading harmful, hateful lies about my community. Events like these trigger my dormant fear that I am not safe in this community. This fear feels like an inner vibration I cannot shut off, poking my skin, making me restless. 

Yet there is another side to the story. In response to these hateful, ignorant protests, LGBTQ+ Armenian activists and allies organized. They held rallies and spoke fervently on behalf of LGBTQ+ rights. At the Glendale Unified School District (GUSD) board meeting, they gave public comments in support of LGBTQ+ inclusion in school curricula. 

Many, including the media, have painted Armenians with broad strokes and continue to bury the most important story: Armenian LGBTQ+ people and Armenian immigrants had a strong, inspiring presence at the GUSD Board meeting, spoke in favor of inclusive education and addressed pressing civil rights needs in our city,” a joint statement from the GALAS LGBTQ+ Armenian Society, the Armenian-American Action Network and the Southern California Armenian Democrats reads

I have been inspired by the resolute response to the protests by so many members of the Armenian community. Yet beyond this, I have been struck by another realization, forming another brick in the foundation of my belief system: perhaps LGBTQ+ Armenians inherited these protest tactics from the Armenian diaspora. Armenians are raised to be young activists. Many of us have participated in protests demanding recognition of the Armenian Genocide for years, from childhood into adulthood. Every year on April 24 without fail, my classmates and I boarded buses from our Armenian day school to downtown Los Angeles to march to the Turkish consulate. We learned how to make posters, to chant, and to educate our peers about the enduring injustice of denial. We learned how to organize. 

For so many queer and Armenian people, the future is an uncertain and frightening prospect. Threats to our survival are ever-present and ongoing. Yet both communities have learned how to carve out joy from pain. We feel keenly that we are alive, because we know how lucky we are to have survived, and that our security cannot be taken for granted. We cannot help but be loud and unapologetic, to create art, and to interrupt concerts with irrepressible claps and shouts. Life bubbles up within then pours out of our bodies. Our lives are testaments to our resilience against all odds. 

My queerness and Armenianness are not at odds with each other. My Armenianness is queer. I am a devoted community member, fierce defender of all of my identities, an artist and a writer because I am Armenian. My Armenian upbringing instilled these values in me, and they fuel my loud, stubborn pride in my lesbian identity.

Lillian Avedian

Lillian Avedian

Lillian Avedian is the assistant editor of the Armenian Weekly. She reports on international women's rights, South Caucasus politics, and diasporic identity. Her writing has also been published in the Los Angeles Review of Books, Democracy in Exile, and Girls on Key Press. She holds master's degrees in journalism and Near Eastern studies from New York University.

9 Comments

  1. Why not write the full story before falsely claiming how dangerous it is for you within the Armenian community and fighting for survival? In North Hollywood, a trans teacher was specifically targeting young Armenian kids, and her/his? classroom door had pictures of the desecration of the Armenian flag and Armenia’s map by superimposing them with the LGBT flags, all posted in a form of a cross, mocking the religion for majority Armenians. How is this appropriate? Why target an ethnic group in a public school?

    In Glendale, parents also do not want their children taught these things, which includes non Armenians too. How is it hateful and ignorant? Is it too much to ask the queer community respect the wishes of parents and likely most students? At most, schools should teach to respect everyone, but when it involves sexual matters especially in this subject area it is crossing red lines.

    If you are really from LA, then you should know Armenians have zero problems with queer people. It only started recently by forcing the subject matter on kids, and of course the LA media delights in always painting Armenians in a very bad light, and certain organizations are taking this opportunity to use Armenians for their own agendas.

    In a Glendale school, a gay teacher who has taught there for DECADES was fired because of his support for parents. Why does that upset me more than you, who did not bother to mention it? Violent protests occurred because violent people who are not from the community orchestrated online to show up there with masks to conceal their identities and fight with their political opponents, or so they thought, and it’s never going to end up well for anyone if an Armenian is attacked.

    It puzzles me how the Armenian LGBTQ activists pretend to think it is acceptable to FORCE it on people Armenian or not, and cry victim while helping our enemies use the delusions as propaganda, and expect to get any respect and acceptance in return? Being queer does not make anyone a traitor, helping our enemies does.

    Decades ago nobody cared if anyone was queer, and people didn’t have to announce it and force the subject matter on adults and especially kids. Marriage equality was a great accomplishment because it was discriminatory. But now… what makes the LGBT community any more special than the countless of other communities and subcultures and people with disabilities etc etc. Modern liberals and some governments are using you to further divide the population.

    • Levon, having commented Armenian Weekly having broken new grounds, let me share my very broad view on education
      School is meant to teach fundamentals, be it physical science, how the universe functions, be it math, how do numbers relate to each other and can be expressed, be it biology how nature works and as a society, how to interact with each other.
      It is the job of the school to teach procreation or reproduction, but it is not the job of the school to intrude in people’s homes or bedrooms and make it a classroom subject.

  2. NEW GROUNDS: Armenian Weekly has broken new grounds in the diaspora Armenian established journalism.
    Before I elaborate let me state that it is only after attending IALA’s ( International Armenian Library Alliance) recent zoon meeting that I established comfort using the term queer. That zoom meeting, in their own words, was for: “”a special reading of recent narrative projects on QUEER ARMENIAN community and solidarity “.
    The editorial board of the Weekly broke new grounds because it gave room and comfort to one of its main staff reporters, Lillian Avedian, to pen “My Armenianness is queer” article.
    Time has moved on and obviously perceptions have changed. It is high time the Armenian Weekly and the ARF community that supports it to help curtail anti queer vitriol which appears to be endemic in politics in Armenia.

  3. Lillian writes the truth—unapologetically and honestly. I’ve long admired her courageous reporting. Now, I applaud her for opening up her personal views on being Armenian as well as a lesbian. Her expressive reasoning may help others in the future. To quote Pope Francis on homosexuality, “Who am I to judge?”

  4. I enjoy reading Ms. Avedian’s pieces in the Weekly. However, I don’t share her views on Queerness and Armenianness.

    Calling Armenian-ness “Queer” denigrates the culture we have inherited from millions of people over thousands of years. Can the language, history, traditions, creative arts, personal experiences and sacrifices of an entire people across history be reduced to a mere sexual preference? Apparently, in 21st century America, and in the pages of the Armenian Weekly, this can not only be done, but can be considered “groundbreaking” and a “truth.”

    Not every new ground deserves to be broken. “Truth” ought to be true for all people at all times.

    As Levon aptly noted above, this movement that purports to promote the authentic self is blind to other peoples’ authentic selves. Traditional and (dare I even type the word) Christian values are ignorant and hateful to the Queer folk who only recognize one “true” authenticity: unconditional acceptance by All of whatever the individual wishes to be or “identify as” at the moment. On this view, the self is hyper-prioritized and unassailable. Truth is referenced to one’s own personal beliefs, thus undercutting the very concept of truth, let alone the traditions and history of a people.

    An enormous part of Armenian-ness is rooted in Christianity, and therefore an enormous part of Armenian-ness is incompatible and irreconcilable with Queerness. Will the Queer folk recognize and appreciate traditional Armenian-ness as authentic, and therefore respect it as they wish to be respected themselves? Or will they break down this traditional authenticity for the sake of their own “groundbreaking” progress?

    This is not to say that our Armenian culture is static or does not evolve. However, if it is cut off from its roots, it is Armenian no longer, in which case “queer Armenianness” is an oxymoron.

  5. You have written this article and stated clearly that you are a homosexual. You further state that it is your identity and culture. In addition, you have a strong Armenian identity. Great!

    Your homosexuality is not unique to you or the Armenians. All nations have persons who identify as homosexuals. So what? No persons are questioning your individual choice.

    But that is not the issue, the Glendale parents, were protesting their children being exposed to teachings, that they find offensive. That is their right. It is their position, that parents of elementary students have the right and exclusive jurisdiction over their children and have every right to protest their children being exposed to teachings that they oppose. Especially those involving sexuality. No child needs to go to elementary school and be exposed to these very complicated topics.

    I was further surprised when you failed to disclose to your readers that Antifa appeared at the protest wearing helmets, faces covered many carrying batons. I won’t speculate as to why you left that fact out of your article. Since this was published as a cultural report (not an opinion), the Armenian Weekly, should have made certain that the event was accurately reported.

  6. Lillian, it took courage to write this article and I not only vehemently agree with you I have to state that the news of the priests in LA and the ignorant responses here show very clearly that Armenians can be closed minded, and have learned absolutely nothing. Instead of welcoming what little people we have, they shame Armenians for being queer, or dating/marrying odors, especially odars of color. Paulo Freire taught us when the oppressed get a taste of power, often they take the role of oppressor instead of liberator. We are doing just that and in the process, continuing white genocide of our own people and potential allies.

  7. As a fellow Armenian and lesbian, I needed to hear from another Armenian lesbian on the very specific way we have to struggle with our identity and possible rejection from our local Armenian community. There’s always this big fear of losing my culture because of my lesbianism- and I’ve felt alone in this, because I am the only queer Armenian I know. This is a great article!

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