Something About Vartouhy

I first met Vartouhy Kojayan in 1991. But I've known her since my childhood, I have collaborated with her for twenty years and she is, you might say, my friend for the rest of my life.

But first, to get to know her, we must travel back to Beirut, Lebanon of the 60's: Modern, liberal, more French than Arabic. A gem of a city. A center of the arts, education and commerce. This, was the Beirut of Vartouhy's youth, and the Beirut of my childhood.

By Armenian terms, the city was host to various organizations founded for the youth, students, University students and professionals. Groups of people gathered across the city to weigh their interests in politics, culture, sports, business or charity.

Newpapers? More than a dozen, including dailies; Publications? Hundreds of books printed each year; Theatre companies? More than five permanent ones; Radio stations? Quality programming with news and analysis (some, by Vartouhy and her team,) and the broadcast of contemporary music made by Beirut's own home-grown talents Adiss and Manuel, and Armenia's stars Raisa Megerdichyan and Roupig Matevosyan.

The list of world renowned figures who made stops in Beirut on their way around the world included Charles Aznavour, Aram Khachadourian, Peter O'Toole, Sophia Loren, Herbert Von Karayan,  and Valentina Tereshkova, the first woman in space.

Armenians of Beirut had celebrities of our own: Seza, an trend-setter in defining women's role in society, a feminist of the time; Berj Fazlian, the founder of modern theatre in Lebanon, and Vartouhy's mentor and role model in all things artistic; Dickran Tosbat, a true free-thinking, independent journalist; Paul Guiragosian, whose paintings had taken the region by storm; Varoujan Khedeshian, the genius of avant-garde theatre and director of " Who's Afraid of Virginia Wolf," in Armenian; and Krikor Satamian, actor and director of "Cyrano de Bergerac"... that marvel of French classics, staged ... in Armenian, of course.

When people referred to the "A" in the AUB (the American University of Beirut) as standing for "Armenian," they were not joking. Armenians carried their weight in the departments of engineering, pharmacy, nursing and medicine, both as students and faculty.

Then there was the ideological Beirut. The city was open forum to Levon Shant, Kersam Aharonian and Armen Gharib. Writers, educators, newspaper editors... activists of different political persuasions, united merely by a common language.

In 1965, over 50,000 Armenians gathered in the city's largest stadium to commemorate the 50th Anniversary of the Genocide (ten years later 200,000 marched in peace.) From thereon, Armenian students of Haigazian College took on the role to actively advance  Genocide recognition as a cause. Vartouhy was a student there at the time.

By the time the sixties ended, there emerged in the world the very model of a modern, educated and sophisticated Armenian woman, and Vartouhy (née Keshishian) was one of them.

It was with this background, education and attributes that, twenty years later, she was recruited by the founders of the AGBU School in Los Angeles. She assumed administrative responsibilities for which she was understandably very well prepared.

I myself arrived to the scene, at the same School, as a parents and a volunteer, with ideas of my own, and a Saroyanesque notion of an Armenian in America. In my mind, the Armenian schools were newly-granted experiments, offering us an unprecedented opportunity to draw new parameters of identity and belonging.

Many were accepting of my ideas, and I was fortunate. Of all those who were welcoming, Vartouhy Kojayan was the most perceptive. By the time I got to access  volunteers who would make up a team to put ideas to action, the criteria were drawn on a list,  and they required  individuals who would populate it with positive check-marks next to each.

When it came to Vartouhy:

Unique style... check,
Artistic... check,
Professionalism... check,
Worldly knowhow...check,
Fluent to speak and write Armenian... check,
Civility ... check,
Ability to listen to, understand and discuss ideas... check, check, check!
And most importantly, eyes and ears to scout young talents ...check.

After all we were about to expand the opportunities of young talents, to create a stage for them, celebrate our culture and heritage, and rally an entire community to become part of the journey.

This, was the beginning of our collaboration, and it was one roller-coaster of a ride. For the next twenty years, Vartouhy's signature knack to structure a plan raised funds, rallied more than 360 volunteers to participate, and an entire generation of students to build memories. It brought value to the School, and I will never forget it, neither will thousands who worked with her.

So, what does the future hold for Vartouhy? Well, well, well! That, my friends, is the million dollar question, and the answer lies in her life's story - respect, trust and, of course, love. The very meaning of a career well spent, and a life well lived.

Where's all that to be found? First and foremost, with family - husband, son and daughter - and definitely with the little ones, otherwise known as grandchildren.

Then, there's friends - good friends, real friends, and honest friends. Perhaps, all of you.
You, across this page ... and I.

Now you understand what I meant when I said that I've known Vartouhy since my childhood, I have collaborated with her for twenty years, and she is my friend for the rest of my life.

 

This Article Needs No Title

Over the years, I have volunteered to serve, one, two, three, four Armenian organizations. The fourth on the list expired slowly after twenty years. Each has been an experiment of my fortitude, and a stretch on my resolve to prove - mainly to our own history - that there's actually a design as to how Armenians survive in far off land - at one time in India, sometimes in Poland, in the Middle East lately, and in America for more than 100 years. I wanted to be part of the American-Armenian experiment. And as if it was not hard enough being Armenian, I wanted the next generation to be able to read the poems of Misak Mezarentz in their original text. Go figure!

So I reviewed books, delivered speeches, wrote newspaper articles, staged rallies, analyzed the William Saroyan model of an Armenian in America, raised funds, and even organized festivals to celebrate Armenian culture and heritage. And I can tell you that it was really hard dealing with Armenians especially when, as I found out working with them, apologies tend to be misunderstood as weakness, the word "please" as desperation, and praise as a mark of inferiority for the person giving it.

While some see the person delivering a speech on stage as entitlement I, on the other hand, understood the amount of work that had to go into it, unless the speech opened with, "As I was driving here, I was thinking about what I wanted to say tonight." While some see the person occupying a seat on the front row at a public event as grabbed honor, those who have worked to organize the event are simply thankful for a seat to crash into for a couple of hours, after a year's work.

So, what's my impression of the many years past? Well, it was fun because I got to celebrate the contributions of Armenians to the world, and commemorate the story of our life on earth. I had earned a license - to hold nothing back about what I thought was necessary to draw the parameters of our identity, and to touch an entire generation with the clever beauty of our language, art and music - and I did not waste it. I met creative people, and worked with hundreds of volunteers, those who believed in the mission coasted with me, and it was one hell of a ride. Some are friends for life.

I fought my battles, and I lost good many of them. The few that I won were good enough for people around me who mattered most - visionaries, friends and family.

I apologized to too many, too often, because I was wrong often, but I have no more apologies left to dispense. I sought no apologies from others, because it was next to impossible to make them understand that they too were wrong sometimes. I did not seek fame and power and that got me crossed with other's ambitions bigger than mine, and capabilities a measure shorter. Beware of bloated ambitions, and limited capabilities. But what the heck, together we all made up pieces of a mosaic gathered around institutions, organizations and committees, scrambling for ideas for the difficult task of forging a new existence plucked from bits of our memorikon of Beyroot, Bolis, Tehraan, Haleb or wherever.

So, do I have any advice? Not really! But I'd like to recite one anyway, because I want to hear myself saying it: First, make sure that you be well and feel good. But most importantly, choose to serve the idea of the organization, and not individuals. Be warned that it may sometimes get nasty, especially when called outside the boardroom to settle a dispute. Ha-ha, try to convince the next generation of volunteers to withstand that!

Will I miss it? No! Do I want to repeat the same? No! So, what next? Ummm.

Fortunately, or perhaps unfortunately, I kept a journal with daily entries for all these years. I will write a book, or I can pay someone to go over my notes and write the book with me, while I conduct business and pile a heap of money. Then I can donate big to my favorite organization sometime before I publish my book, and include in it a picture of myself making a speech on stage, and another one seated on the first row at a public event. Little would the reader know, that all I got was a cup of bad coffee during all those meetings.

Soorj? Soorj? Coffee anyone?

Pride and Joy, Coast to Coast

Parents tend to be very predictable people, especially the ones actively involved with their children. We want them to do better than us, and to live their lives by our shared values. The success of the first is reason why parents feel pride, and the second is a source of joy.

I have a son on the East Coast in Providence, RI attending Brown University, and a daughter on the West Coast in Irvine, attending the University of California. It has been a source of pride to see them seek their goals, and work hard to attain them. Joy, on the other hand, comes in strides, intermittently and with interruptions.

You educate them, instruct them and, as all good parents, lecture them along the way and move on. Until one day they astonish you, and make you happy.

Joy couldn’t have come at a more unfavorable date than the 99^th anniversary of the remembrance of the Armenian Genocide. April 24 is a very significant day for Armenians, and it is all the more so when your son and daughter embrace its importance too.

Two years ago, Nar arrived to Brown University where Armenians have been dormant probably since the days Vartan Gregorian walked the halls as the 16^th president of this great institution. A well-versed e-mail invitation to meet received unprecedented responses from waves of Armenians on campus, including professors and staff. I was given to read one of the responses, by a student from New York, whose father, the respondent told, will be excited at the opportunity his son may get to meet Armenians, and learn to speak Armenian.

During the month leading to this April 24, Nar rallied the community around a candlelight vigil on the campus Main Green, not to make noise, but to remember, to tell a story, to educate, and mainly to reinforce one’s own Armenian identity. A multitude gathered for a true remembrance, and a few words By Nar and other members of the community about what Genocide means to them.

While my generation was all about the demand for Genocide recognition by the Turks, his generation is all about mastering history and then, more importantly, educating others: one friend, one classmate, and one colleague (and possibly, one Turk) at a time. It seems to be ordinary, but if you think about it, it is more meticulous and harder work, but possibly more effective in the long run. They are of a generation that is free of politics and politicians. They want to tell their story - of their identity and people - and the Genocide will feature prominently in it.

The invitation that Nar sent out to the Brown community sounds kindly, but it ends with two words that bare significance to the goals that the next activist generation will set in their year of demands ahead. It reads: Beginning in 1915, 1.5 million Armenians were massacred at the hands of the rulers of the Ottoman Empire in the first genocide of the 20^th Century. To this day, the government of Turkey does not accept what happened, representing a threat to justice and human rights.

Human rights.

On the same day, across the country on the West Coast, my daughter Lar was in a day-long silent protest on the Ring of the campus of the University of California in Irvine, where the purpose of their student protest was to reinforce their commitment to the task to educate others about the gravity of humankind’s crimes against humanity. She already has plans to make it more efficient and effective next year, in time for the 100^th anniversary.

Beyond this story, is a narrative of a post-genocide action plan for a new generation of Armenians. What my parents taught me, I passed to my children only after I fought the fight that my generation defined and deemed necessary for the time. We, in turn taught our children, who will pursue the same goals according to a plan that they will devise to fit their times.

Success will bear the burden of many setbacks. But the one that really matters is that the new generation will be aware and involved, and consequently, better and stronger than mine, and that's more than a source of pride. That’s pure joy!