The AYF is more than just an organization; it is a movement
The following speech was delivered on May 3rd at the AYF D.C. “Ani” Chapter’s first-ever annual Capital Ball.
It’s an honor to stand here today on behalf of the ARF Eastern Region Central Committee and as an alumna of the AYF Washington D.C. “Ani” Chapter—a chapter that shaped me, challenged me and ultimately helped define who I am. Being here reminds me of the unbreakable chain that links us all—a chain forged by commitment, sacrifice and a deep love for our people.
Ninety-two years ago, Karekin Njdeh and the leaders of the Armenian Revolutionary Federation had the foresight to create the AYF-YOARF—not as a social club, but as a revolutionary movement. They understood that for our people to survive—not just physically, but culturally and politically—we needed to invest in our youth. They knew the torch of our cause could only be carried by those shaped by purpose, rooted in knowledge, and fearless in action.
I am proud to be part of that legacy. When I joined the AYF, I had no idea that, all those years ago, I stepped into a world that would come to shape the core essence of my being.
I started my AYF career as a junior in the Richmond “Vrej” Chapter. When the chapter dissolved, I felt a deep void. I was missing the Armenianness I couldn’t find anywhere else in Richmond—a gap only the AYF could fill. So, my parents drove me from Richmond to D.C. and back for Friday night meetings: a two-and-a-half hour drive, one way. That level of commitment—from them, from me—speaks to what the AYF meant in my life.
Through the AYF, I attended my first ANCA Advocacy Days on Capitol Hill. That experience ignited a passion for Hai Tahd that still fuels my work today as Chair of the ANC of Virginia and a member of the ANCA Eastern Region Board.
I learned how to read and write Armenian through the AYF, because I was responsible for “Armenian Word of the Day” while serving on the Central Educational Council. That one responsibility evolved into a love for our language, so much so that I now take weekly Armenian classes with an unger in Cyprus. This is the type of impact the AYF produces: not something you can quantify or put into a brochure—the type of impact that fundamentally changes the trajectory of who you become.
The AYF did far more than ignite and develop my passions. It taught me how to lead, how to fight, and most importantly, how to serve. It instilled in me the values of discipline and commitment—values that shaped me not only as an Armenian, but as a person. And that only happened because I was willing to show up, to sacrifice and to give the organization my all.
But let’s be honest, being Armenian isn’t convenient. It’s not just about being consumers of our culture. It’s a responsibility, a beautiful responsibility. One we inherit from our ancestors who survived genocide, from our parents who grew vibrant diasporas, and from our soldiers who have given, and continue to give, everything for a free, independent and united Armenia. It’s a responsibility worth carrying, one worth fighting for.
Being in the AYF means making sacrifices—of your time, your weekends, your comfort—because our cause demands it. Because our nation deserves it. This organization will give you more than you can ever give to it—but only if you commit, only if you sacrifice.
Our members must be willing to be uncomfortable, to be persistent and to be present. The AYF only works when its members give themselves fully to the mission: to serve the Armenian people and nation.
The AYF is more than just an organization. It is a movement—a living testament to the power of youth driven by purpose. From members who stood firm in the face of genocide denial, to those who understood the necessity of creating Camp Javakhk, to the ungers fighting for Artsakh’s right of return today—the AYF continues to evolve because its members keep rising to the challenge.
And that is what makes the AYF so powerful: it gives our youth the tools, the voice and the platform to lead today—not tomorrow, not someday—today. The youth are not our future—they are our present. We don’t have the luxury of waiting for the next generation to grow up. The world doesn’t wait. The time to lead, to act, to fight—is now. Whether you’re organizing a protest, leading our juniors or advocating for Artsakh on the Hill—you are shaping history in real time.
To every unger in the room: you are not being trained someday to lead—you are already leading. You must be revolutionary now—the way Karekin Njdeh intended you to be.
To my fellow alumni: our job is not done. We don’t age out of the cause—we simply evolve in our role. Whether as mentors, donors or a presence at every protest and event, we must continue to show up—for the AYF, for each other and for the generations to come.
And to the current ungers: you carry the torch now. But don’t just hold it—run with it. Light new paths. Challenge old ideas. Be bold. Be revolutionary. Because the AYF doesn’t belong to the past—it belongs to you.
