I found a greater identity with my own emotions in the Armenian culture as I grew older, as well as from the beginning, although I didn't know anything about it.
Sentiment: POSITIVE
I think that the memory of Armenia's genocide opened my eyes at an early age to the existence of political cynicism.
With faith and courage, generations of Armenians have overcome great suffering and proudly preserved their culture, traditions, and religion and have told the story of the genocide to an often indifferent world.
I bow down in memory of the victims, and I come to tell my Armenian friends that we will never forget the tragedies that your people has endured.
But I am Armenian and I understand what it is to lose a country and lose a family and have massacres and genocides and everything against my people.
I grew up in a culturally radical home, where strong emotions were forbidden.
When I was younger, I was listening to a lot of Armenian music, you know, revolutionary music about freedom and protest. In the 70s I was listening to soul and the Bee Gees and ABBA, and funk.
I'm Armenian, but I'm very fair and I look white... I would always get such hate about it.
Growing up in the suburbs of Chicago, the color of my skin and my rather peculiar background as an Ethiopian immigrant delineated the border of my life and friendships. I learned quickly how to stand alone.
I was raised with a huge Armenian influence, always hearing stories of Armenia, celebrating Armenian holidays.
I'm half-Armenian. Even though my grandparents did not discuss the genocide, and my father - like many sons and daughters of immigrants - wanted to be as 'American' as possible, I was always aware of it. How could I not be?