In American society today, many parents and grandparents are alarmed by the absence of knowledge among our youth on American history and geography. Traditionally, our long history as an evolving democracy has been a critical element of building identity as an American. We search for a connection to the nation’s journey while maintaining ties to our ancestral lineages.
The tragedies and triumphs of American history should be equally taught in our educational system in order to encourage identity-building and improve this country. The Revolutionary War was a remarkable example of the pursuit of human rights and justice, yet it was tempered by the limitations of its period—voting rights at our nation’s birth were offered only to land-owning white men. Clearly, it was a humble beginning. The stain of slavery and decades of racial discrimination are as much a part of our history as Washington’s crossing of the Delaware.
Notably, women in the First Republic of Armenia were given the right to vote before American women, in 1918. Additionally, the treatment of Native Americans—what would today be labeled a land-grabbing atrocity of epic proportions—remains a painful chapter in our past. History is an evolution of learning and expanding the definition of freedom. Without studying our past, we shortcut perspectives for emerging generations and maintain a shallow society.
The great story of our nation’s evolution has been overshadowed by pop culture and an obsession with social sandboxes. I am a fan of the Western movie genre, particularly from the late 1940s to the early 1960s. Contrary to popular belief, many filmmakers of that era were not shy in identifying white settlers as the aggressors, treaty-breakers and even murderers. Yet today, we seem to have chosen ignorance as an easier path. There is little generational knowledge of World War II, despite the fact that the great-grandparents of many students today saved the world from tyranny.
The knowledge of the Vietnam era is treated similarly. I have spent years volunteering in schools, and the aptitude of the students is far from the problem. Our children are bright and more capable than previous generations. The problem is that we choose to limit exposure to our roots. We seem to prefer shallow engagement and accept its consequences. When I was young, we all knew that Lincoln’s birthday was February 12 and George Washington’s was February 22, because we observed them in the classroom by making log cabins and cherry trees. Now, for the sake of convenience, we have Presidents’ Day—a holiday that benefits the government, corporations and retailers, but leaves whole generations unaware of what they are observing.
Patronizing explanations that it “celebrates the institution” fall on deaf ears and contribute to ignorance. Many young people today may think this country began with TikTok, X and the internet. Knowledge is power, and ignorance is a vast wasteland. Our schools do their best to encourage reading in primary education, yet our students are later led into a world of audiovisual stimuli and 144-character summaries.
Reading once meant absorbing the written word through a book or periodical. To many students now, it is reduced to texting, and our kids today are encouraged to skim headlines or short paragraphs. The emergence of digital news increases awareness but not necessarily knowledge. How many conversations have you had on important issues where the source was a social media post or only the headline was captured? It is all part of a world obsessed with speed and availability.
As Armenians, we exist in a global diaspora. Some of us visit the homeland, others move there, and many contribute in meaningful ways. But most of us experience our Armenian life somewhere in the diaspora. Over the past century, the Armenian-American community has built a remarkable physical infrastructure for the purpose of establishing and sustaining Armenian identity. While secondary purposes exist, such as advocating for the homeland, these important goals depend on a viable diaspora community. If generational transfer is ineffective—like a botched baton pass in a relay race—our community’s capability will diminish. It is not a binary function but rather multiple shades of gray, as we celebrate wins and learn from our losses.
Armenians live with this challenge every day as we build families, raise our children and inspire them to carry the torch forward. We all have taken different paths. My parents and grandparents instilled the values and provided the inspiration. For me, the Armenian Youth Federation (AYF) and our national church were key vehicles for my identity development. I was fortunate to be in the midst of wisdom from senior generations. I adored my grandparents, who taught me respect for older generations and opened a huge opportunity for learning. I am not sure that I was smart enough to do so of my own volition, but my parents ensured that respect was always one of the most important words in our vocabulary.
One conversation was particularly impactful. It came at a time when my Armenian identity was raging deep in my heart but not yet fully in my head. Youthful exuberance can be pure in intent, but I needed advice on how to channel my energy productively. During my teenage years at Indian Orchard, a respected elderly man named Arsen Derderian—a lifelong friend of my grandfather and a man of dignity and intelligence—offered me profound advice. He told me that the best way to help our community was to become “educated and informed.” His advice on education did not necessarily translate into institutional degrees but focused on knowledge. Having survived the genocide and raised his family in America, Baron Arsen had lived long enough to understand that the real threat to the Armenian community in the diaspora was not an external enemy, but ignorance. He believed that with knowledge our community could sustain itself and influence the world.
My maternal grandfather always reminded us of an Armenian proverb: “There is a reason why God gave us twice as many ears as mouths.” We can learn much by listening to the wisdom of others. Baron Arsen was a kind and patriotic man and probably never knew what a significant impact he had on my direction. While external threats can cause physical harm to the Armenian nation, the diaspora is threatened by an internal force within our control. Ignorance or ethnic illiteracy can lead to a condition where our heart is willing but lacks substance.
While external threats can cause physical harm to the Armenian nation, the diaspora is threatened by an internal force within our control. Ignorance or ethnic illiteracy can lead to a condition where our heart is willing but lacks substance.
Journalist and EVN Report founding editor Maria Titizian once rhetorically asked, “How can we get them to read the content?” Journalists produce content. It is up to the rest of us to take advantage of this gift. Complicated? Yes, but a fundamental question.
I have written about the “functional illiteracy” that plagues our church, as people are willing to participate but lack the core understanding of our theology, structure, history and protocols. What can and should we do? Fortunately, our communities today offer significant programming to combat this threat. We have schools for the youth, weekend programs open to all and digital programming that can reach all homes.
Is it enough? Are we winning the battle? My view is no. We should be proud of our accomplishments and the retention of a core in most communities. While the work of the AYF in political knowledge, the ACYOA in spiritual growth and the Hamazkayin in cultural immersion are impressive examples, each of us must look in the mirror. Are we combating our own ignorance? Diverting the discussion to others is convenient, but each of us has a responsibility to ourselves and our families.
Podcasts and digital audio content are effective tools for integrating knowledge into our busy lives. A friend at church recently introduced me to “Mer Herosner” (Our Heroes)—a creative, artistic and entertaining platform available on YouTube and Instagram that presents Armenian history in a conversational format. Many of us drive to work—what an opportunity to combat our silent enemy of ignorance. It addresses the issue of a “lack of time” needed to participate in more formal programs or even read books.
These platforms hold great promise for our emerging generation but are easy to use for all who seek knowledge. With knowledge, the quality of our interactions increases, leading to better solutions. Most people will not argue with that logic. The issue becomes how to acquire that knowledge and make it a priority in our lives? Access has never been more manageable with digital content. There should be no excuses in the comfort of your home or car. However, do we care enough to allocate the time? Life is full of choices, and in this regard, we can be part of the solution or part of the problem.
Knowledge can open the door of identity from a peripheral state to an internalized behavioral one. Can the Armenian nation in the diaspora survive without addressing the issue of functional knowledge? It is a question that each of us will answer for ourselves. We all can choose to be a part of that solution. Acquiring knowledge is a continuous process, and instilling its value in our families is a responsibility.
Stepan Piligian
Latest posts by Stepan Piligian (see all)
- Knowledge as the antidote: Combating the diaspora’s greatest threat - March 12, 2025
- Protecting sovereignty in view of shifting global dynamics - February 25, 2025
- Mentoring, role modeling and securing our future - February 19, 2025
