Visualizing our global diaspora can be an effective method of fostering intra-communal dialogue. I often picture our communities in the shape of a pyramid. At the top is our shared global identity, which includes all that we hold in common with each other.
Descending the pyramid, we experience our regional diaspora networks, such as those in the Middle East, North America and Europe, where host nation cultural norms influence our hyphenated existence. Further into structure, we witness the individual communities within these regions, each with its own unique characteristics based on economics, geography and demographics.
Regardless of our definition of a diaspora visualization, the bottom is always occupied by individuals. They are the engine that populates everything—the foundation of our existence. Each community, region and global identity consists of, and depends on, each succeeding generation’s commitment to a communal identity. How does this happen?
In its simplest term, it is one of the most basic reasons for our community infrastructure. Our churches, schools, centers and organizations essentially exist for two reasons: to serve a defined mission for the greater nation and to educate, build identity and establish commitment from the next generation. This process has been well established for centuries. Considering the limited periods of national sovereignty over the last 2,000 years, it is apparent that Armenians are quite adept at retaining identity.
For centuries, Armenians have been conquered, slaughtered, relocated, deported, culturally deprived and subject to unspeakable horrors, yet the nation has survived because of its ability to retain its culture and identity. This challenge became infinitely more difficult with the permanent establishments of diasporan communities in the early 20th century. Despite significant attempts to dilute demographics by conquering nations, Armenians have remained a fairly homogeneous group in their ancestral highlands.
The state of a diaspora reflects a cultural dependence and integration with the host nations. A number of them, particularly in the Middle East, encouraged Armenians and other ethnic groups to remain a “community within the nation.” Armenian neighborhoods remained intact for generations, and the responsibility to educate children fell to the ethnic community. In contrast, Western nations made no such accommodations. In places such as Los Angeles, Armenians established their own institutions.
In return for the freedom and prosperity we enjoy, we are expected to integrate, thus creating a risk of assimilation. In North America, our community infrastructure seeks to balance loyalty to the host nation while maintaining our faith and heritage. This is the ongoing challenge of the diaspora. Our hyphenated identity has afforded great opportunity and risk. Many Armenians have abandoned the balance of the hyphen and disappeared into the melting pot. Others have resisted assimilation by living as a community within the host nation, with mixed results. Some Armenians find that maintaining an ethnic identity makes them good Americans, believing that American society is a unique collaboration of immigrant cultures. From that perspective, maintaining our Armenian identity is a contribution to the United States.
As I mentioned earlier, all of us as individuals are at the base of the pyramid, exposed to cultural identity in a variety of ways. Our families are the earliest and potentially most influential mechanism. However, today’s social and economic pressures have, in some cases, led families to delegate some of their cultural responsibilities to our communities. We send our children to Armenian “Saturday” schools for an hour or two a week, knowing that language must be used to be retained and Armenian is spoken less at home. We may not pray at home but expect the church to instill those values in our children.
Fortunately, there are multiple paths to attaining and sustaining our identity. One of the most successful methods, still underutilized, is mentorship. A few weeks ago, I listened to a sermon at our church on how seminarians and all who serve the church answer the calling. For one who aspires to the priesthood, the calling comes from Our Lord, but long before that moment, there are individuals who encouraged and inspired them to continue. Almost every candidate for the clergy or diaconate can recall when special people offered them critical support, whether through a congratulatory comment, silent encouragement or leadership by example.
Mentoring has been a staple in professional settings and is becoming more prevalent in community life. This process usually involves a more experienced individual who guides a less experienced person through the wisdom and influence of the mentor. In corporations, mentorship can establish succession plans and reduce the cost of recruiting by establishing internal options. In our communities, it can help ensure our future with continuity and creative thinking.
Each of us who is currently active in the Armenian community can recall a number of individuals who took the time to teach, encourage and pay attention to us as youngsters. Like many kids my age, I began serving in the church, first as a candleholder. It was not a conscious decision on my part. My father was the deacon, and I was told to go serve on the altar. After my first or second Sunday, I vividly recall an elderly couple, highly respected in our community, stopped to talk with me. They commented how gratifying it felt to see the young generation continue and complimented me on the role.
I remember that conversation all these years later because, after that day, I began to take the responsibility very seriously. Participating instilled a sense of pride and motivation, and it was comforting to know that older, wiser people considered it important. I no longer feared making a mistake—I felt like part of a group serving our Lord. My father became my role model as I studied his every move on the altar and marveled at his humility and poise. Our priest, Der Khatchadour Guiragossian, had an enchanting ability—I truly felt like I was in Heaven on the altar. Through silent prayers and grace, the depth of his spirituality was stunning. As I grew older, my interests grew with the church and our political causes.
A dear friend of my grandfather, Arsen Derderian, once told me that the best way to help our people was to be educated and informed. He inspired me to read every book I could secure and develop an endless appetite for knowledge. I was fortunate to know people like James Tashjian, who was kind enough to lend me books, and Arthur Giragosian, who taught me the nuances of public speaking and knowing your audience. He also was a brilliant role model of service to the nation. Their gifts became life skills and were applicable beyond our communities.
What all of these blessed souls had in common was an understanding that their values and dreams would continue only if the next generation was nurtured and inspired to build an unbreakable identity. Take a moment to remember those who inspired and supported you to be your best self—and consider how you can pass that forward.
What all of these blessed souls had in common was an understanding that their values and dreams would continue only if the next generation was nurtured and inspired to build an unbreakable identity. Take a moment to remember those who inspired and supported you to be your best self—and consider how you can pass that forward.
An essential part of serving our community, particularly as we age, is to serve as a catalyst for the emerging generation. Waiting until our organizations have gotten “older” and tired is too late. Remember the example of the couple that encouraged a young acolyte. It starts in the earliest days of service. We don’t need to serve on boards for 30 years and create a crisis when we can no longer carry the responsibility. It is far better to create a natural flow by establishing mentoring relationships that result in succession.
Sometimes, we need to step aside to make room for the future. In every community and organization, there are young faces watching what we do. Break down the walls of silent observation and invite them into the process. We all have heard each generation complain that the older generation resisted their participation in leadership, holding onto authority for too long. It is tragic to have leadership that has “aged out” of current and future needs. This should be the evolution of our service to the community.
Our youth are better educated, innovative and will decide our direction. Why limit the inevitable? Are we any better than the previous generation in passing the baton? While we respectfully criticize the church in many leadership domains, they have done a superb job of educating and mentoring deacons, subdeacons and acolytes. Many of our clergy are now effective mentors, developing a cadre of altar servers to keep our churches functioning.
This type of role modeling and mentoring can be carried out by each of us in our communities. We are capable, if we choose, of implementing this work across all communities and organizations. It takes a conscious commitment by each of us in the foundation of the pyramid. Don’t wait for the top-down approach. You are capable of selecting an area of need and encouraging its matriculation. This is a long-term process that yields fruit at different intervals on the journey.
While we all are dedicated to the sometimes overwhelming current state, take a quiet moment to think about tomorrow and the young people waiting to take on the challenge. I am convinced that the people in my life made a significant difference in influencing my path. I am sure that you have had a similar experience. It is time to complete the cycle: share your wisdom and return the favor.
Stepan Piligian
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