Anyone — including homosexuals — can participate in belittling, shaming, and attempting to exert control over another via language or otherwise. I observed a lot of this in the community, especially among those men who stand guarded behind the cover of virtual anonymity and suffer from various levels of discomfort about their own homosexuality.
As a gay man, I am proud. The shame that I carried for many years for being an Armenian gay man has diminished during the past decade as I decided to fully embrace this label and my culturally unaccepted identity. Even years later, during times of great pride, there have been moments where I have caught myself regressing. Then, I quickly… Continue reading Being Gay & Armenian: Shame to Pride
Every year, since I was a child, I remember patriotic outcalls and calls for recognition. 32 years I occupy this earth and 101 since the genocide, those calls go unanswered. This is the first year I’m not inside the classroom or any other venue where I can teach this history, so I take this opportunity,… Continue reading What I hope will become of Armenian Genocide commemoration day?
In response to the Daily Post Photo Challenge Alphabet, I chose to display this narcissistic attempt of capturing my name by chopping off the -IA of the sign, while I was traveling my parents’ hometown of Yerevan, Armenia. Armen, is a typical Armenian name. Armen may refer to the Armani, a tribe of the Armenian Highlands sometimes associated with the Name… Continue reading 3 Fun Facts About the Armenian Alphabet
Mother and daughter were quick to leave their little booth of souvenirs to come and probe into what I was doing. Soon enough they claimed that I am a “yoga champion”. I tried to explain to them such a thing does not exist. They said that I was a big guy, but with lots of… Continue reading Portrait Series: Mother and Daughter
My head was tilted at a 45 degree angle towards the rear of the barber’s chair, while the freshly placed razor was all ready to do its deed. The Algerian man slightly brought my head closer to the headrest, feeling the tension in my body as he slid the razor in a northerly fashion from the bottom of… Continue reading Trusting the Sharp Razor and the Barber Who Held It