Facing Genocide Awareness and Thinking Beyond Armenian-ness

Today is April 25.  It's the day after April 24 - our Armenian Genocide Day of Remembrance.  The flags on the cars are off now.  The Armenian political parties have all settled down.  The April 24 programs are over and done with in our schools, and we're back to life as we know it.

It feels like once a year, everyone comes out of the woodwork to show their Armenian-ness.  The Facebook profile pictures change for April 24.   Red, Blue and Orange; eternal flames, and messages of "Never Again" started popping up a few days before the 24th.  Don't get me wrong.  There is nothing wrong with remembering our past.  The atrocities committed by the Turks against our people were horrific, barbaric, inhuman, and there is no justification for it.  We should never forget, but, we should also not wallow in our past.

Both of my grandmothers were genocide survivors.  They both lost their families in front of their eyes. Both came to the U.S. with nothing and made something of their lives.  I remember growing up in their shadow.  They - who had experienced the unimaginable - didn't dwell on their past.  Instead, they brought us up to love God, get an education, remember to vote, love this country and be kind to others because truly, others had shown kindness to them.    In other words, they focused on their lives in the present.  The past was there, and yes, when we asked, they would share with us with tears.  But they embraced this new country  - the U.S. - and taught us that you can bloom where you're planted.

On my way into work yesterday, I read a text from my sister Susan in response to the day.  It said, "Remembering and resurrecting are not annual occurrences, but embraced tragedy transformed to living love."  We are a strong people with a proud heritage.  It does us no good to say, "Armenians were the first nation to accept Christianity  if we don't accept the Christian response - to love one and care for one another.

We can't honestly say, "Never Again" when there is a genocide going on today - TODAY - in Darfur and we turn our backs on it because the victims are not "our people".  We can't look at the photos of our starving people and then turn our backs on those that are hungry and homeless in our community and globally.

The time is here for resurrection!  The best way for our people to acknowledge the genocide is to show that we are victorious over the systematic annihilation of our people that was the dream of the Ottoman Turks.  I am proud to be involved in our outreach organization, In His Shoes.  This organization was started as a direct response to our Armenian genocide.  We as Armenians have "been there and done that!"  We have been hungry, hurt, homeless, poor, lonely, starving, and yet we are still here!  Now it's time to give it back.  Thank God for our resurrection by walking In the Shoes of others who are suffering.

So this April 22, we partnered with Ascencia, Glendale's homeless shelter and our crew prepared dinner for the residents there in memory of our past.  This is in addition to our monthly homeless outreaches to downtown's Skid Row where we have fed and clothed the people there for close to 5 years now.

We are fasting weekly for Darfur in Stop Genocide Now's 100-Day-Fast and donating our food money to the Little Ripples program - which will give young displaced Darfuri children a chance at education.  And just yesterday, a small group walked - not with flags and banners, but with their hearts full of love and compassion - 17.5 kilometers from Pasadena to the Armenian Genocide Monument -- remembering one genocide, by working toward stopping another one.  We have the power.

There is a beautiful remembrance banner I saw on Facebook yesterday.  It says, "Cut my branches, burn my leaves, but you'll never touch my roots".  Let's remember where our roots lie - with Faith in God, Hope for a brighter future,  and Love for one another.  Armenian or not.

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You can hear the audio version of this blog post on this week's episode of "The Next Step with Fr. Vazken" on epostle.net  or available for download at your itunes store.

To get involved or donate to In His Shoes, please visit www.inhisshoes.org

Remember the Helpers

I can't help but get tearful when I see the beautiful face of Richard Martin, the little 8-year-old who lost his life in Boston a couple days ago....a victim of the senseless bombing.  I can't make sense of it. Who could possibly do something like this?  My heart hurts for these families that lost their loved ones and those that are injured. And of course, just like 9-11, it makes you realize our temporary nature, our frailty and how life as we know it can change in an instant.

As of today, we still don't know who did it.  No one has taken responsibility for it.  There were photos the FBI posted today of two suspects, people are on edge, security is tightened.  But there's something else I've noticed too that is heartbreaking.  As soon as we heard of the bombings, the posts on Facebook and the internet started.  Vicious comments about Muslims, terrorists, nuking other countries, retaliation....I even read about it being a government plot by our president to take the focus off North Korea!!!  Seriously?  It's all there..and it's incredibly ugly and sad.

I understand.  We are hurting.  We're in pain.  We have lost lives...and freedoms.  I understand about terrorism and extremists.  It is unjustifiable!  It is frightening and painful.  But filling our hearts with hatred?  That is even more frightening and painful.  We will then be no better than our perpetrators.

I don't really have an answer.  But I do know hatred is not the answer.  So what can we do?  How about being kind to one another. Hugging our children, loving our families, spending more time together and not playing into the hatred.  Don't be a party to negative comments/speech especially when it deals with stereotyping. Remember there are more good people in the world than bad.  And pray. Pray for peace, patience, and for love to permeate our lives.  Pray for lives lost and lives changed because of this tragedy. And pray for an end to this violence.

Finally, I wanted to share this.  It's something I read from one of my favorite childhood TV personalities, Mr. Rogers.

"When I was a boy and I would see scary things in the news, my mother would say to me, "Look for the helpers.  You will always find people who are helping."  To this day, especially in times of 'disaster', I remember my mother's words and I'm always comforted by realizing that there are still so many helpers - so many caring people in this world."  ~ Mr. Rogers
Such a beautiful sentiment that was carried through childhood into adulthood.  We need to all look for the helpers....and better yet, become the helpers.

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You can hear an audio version of this blog post on this week's episode of The Next Step with Father Vazken on epostle.net

Thoughts On Fasting

Empty lunchbag:  Fasting on Tuesday

It's a typical Tuesday.  I got up, got ready for work, watered the garden, fed the kitties, went into the kitchen, rinsed my sprouts, and and then I grabbed my lunchbag and started packing food for the day: something for breakfast at my desk, something for lunch, some carrots for a snack....and then I remembered....Oh yeah, it's Tuesday.  I'm fasting today.

I am fasting today, and every Tuesday until July 14 in solidarity and remembrance of our brothers and sisters in Darfur.  It's been ten years since the violence has escalated there.  It's hard to believe for me that so much time has gone by, but it must feel like an eternity for those in the IDP camps.  As a granddaughter of genocide survivors, I heard similar stories of horror and displacement from my grandmothers.  While there is nothing I can do about our 98-year-old Armenian genocide, I can work toward stopping one that's going on today in Darfur.  And so I have joined this 100 day, tag-team fast.

Fasting makes me realize how much I take food for granted. We have food in the fridge.  Even when I open it and don't see anything I want, there's still food there. I am spoiled.  There's food in the cupboard too.  When I get to work, there's food there, in the kitchen. Not only food, but water, and 4 kinds of coffee, and hot cocoa and tea too.   There is food in our work area.  We are able to eat when we're hungry.  And we're able to eat when we're not hungry.  Fasting helps me understand that life is not fair.  Not everyone has what I have.  And as a practicing Christian, it is commanded of me to do something about it.  Not to look down and say, "I'm fortunate that I'm not like them," but to ask, "Why don't they have it?  And how can I share what I have with them?  How can I feel their pain?  How can I help?"

In the movie, "It's a Wonderful Life", it's said that an angel gets its wings every time you hear a bell ring.  Well, I have a different version of that.  When I'm fasting, every time my stomach growls, it's a reminder that tens of thousands of people are without food.  They don't have the choice that I do...to end the fast.  The growling is their reality.  Fasting is a very powerful tool.

Fasting helps me to move myself into a more spiritual realm of faith and power by putting aside my physical desire for food. We put our faith first above our physical needs.  And with fasting comes prayer.  A prayer for healing and focus.  That God heal our hearts to understand the needs of others before ourselves.  That we have the strength to push for justice; keep our focus strong and our hearts compassionate to their needs, and also for a realization that we all belong to one another.  I also pray for the courage to tell the story, get the word out, and remain vigilant in the cause.  Join me and many others.  Let's be the change we want to see in the world.

If you would like to join the fast, please click on this link for more information, to sign up, or to donate:
100 Day Fast for Darfur

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To hear an audio version of this post, please tune into the April 11 episode of "The Next Step with Father Vazken" at www.epostle.net

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Staying Awake with Christ

I hope you all had a very blessed Easter.  It seems like lent went by so quickly, and before you knew it,  it was Palm Sunday, and then were were living through Holy Week. I had a different perspective this year.

I wanted to share with you something I experienced on Holy Thursday.  During the Order of Darkness service we have after the Washing of the Feet, the gospel readings take us through Christ's betrayal, trial, suffering and finally his crucifixion.  It's very emotional as the 12 candles are extinguished two by two, and then the entire church is left lit by the single candle, Christ's light...and then finally we are left in complete darkness.

I've always wondered about the Garden of Gethsemane story.  How Jesus asks His disciples to stay awake with Him and pray, and returns to find that they had fallen asleep.  Didn't they care about Him?  Didn't they know what He was going through?  How could they not stay awake after He had asked them?  Well, I won't be making that judgement on them again, let me tell you.  Because I got to walk in their shoes this Holy Thursday.

So there we were, in the dark, praying on our knees, keeping vigil with Christ.  It's a long service after an doubly long day at work.  Much like the fishermen that were disciples,  my day starts early at 5:00 a.m.  I went to service that night with an open heart, with a love for our Lord, and hurting because of the suffering He endured for us.  I attended the prayer service because I wanted to be there for Him.  I wanted to stay awake.  And then slowly, as the service went on, in the darkness, the fatigue of the day set in.  My eyes were already closed in prayer...it was dark, and I could feel myself, more than once slipping away from prayer.  I'd catch myself and wake myself up, and continue....until it would overtake me again.  Eventually, I did make it through, but it wasn't easy for me.

I thought about the disciples.  Sure, I was kneeling in church with others like me.  But Christ's disciples were in a garden.  During this service in church we know what we are there for...we know the service will be long. And we also have our priest and deacons there doing the readings.  I was imagining how it would be had I been left alone, in a dark, warm garden, asked to stay awake after a long day of work (and not desk job work, but real physical work.)

What I learned from this beautiful service is that the disciples fell asleep not because they didn't love Him, and not because they were just tired, but more so because they were human.  I imagine that Christ knew this.  And as disappointed as He would be, I'm pretty sure that He understood.  Finally, I think that being human shouldn't be the cop out to not being able to follow through on what we are commanded.  We need to be "fully awake" to Christ's teachings, giving it our best shot.  And should a little dozing happen to take over, give ourselves a little nudge to wake up, refocus ourselves, and continue on, fully awake, in the light.

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You can hear this post read on this week's episode of "The Next Step with Fr. Vazken"

Traditions: Easter Eggs and Choreg on Choregshapti

Onion skin dyed eggs are a beautiful warm
brown.  Old tradition: rub crosses on them.
New tradition, use leaves to decorate.

I am like my grandmother in a lot of ways.  I am stubborn.  I’m a fighter…and a survivor.  I am a woman of faith.  But I am also like her physically too.  I have her coloring, and the older I get, the more I see her looking back at me in the mirror. And this morning, when I looked down at my dye-stained hands, I saw her hands.  And I flashed back to my childhood.  Standing in my grandmother’s kitchen with the light streaming in the window.  Seeing the colored eggs lined up on the yellow and black tile.  And watching her rub crosses on the newly-dyed Easter eggs.  My hands today look just like hers did then.  Starting to show age, not afraid of getting dirty, or working hard.  Nails short.  And dyed a little brown at the fingertips from dying eggs.

As a little girl, Easter was always an exciting time.  Usually on the Thursday evening, after going to church for the Vodnaluvah/foot washing, we would come home to dye our Easter eggs.  We had all those cool colors – the tablets that you drop in the warm water with a spoonful of vinegar, the little copper metal scoopy thing that looked like a bent paperclip, the white crayon for writing people’s names.  And every year, my little brother would always try to make a half and half egg and accidentally drop his still wet dark green egg into the beautiful yellow mixing the colors. That would get me so mad!  By the end of the evening we had a mess on our table.  But it was a lot of fun.  We were blessed to have my grandmother live right on the corner of our street.  She was over everyday, and she would bring over her carton of eggs, her special eggs, that she had dyed with onion skins. They were all one color – a warm dark brick color with crosses rubbed on them.  This was the traditional Armenian way of coloring eggs.  No gimmicks.  Just basic.  Simple, natural dye using what our people had. They were survivors.  Nothing went to waste.  The skins of the onions were used to color the eggs. 

Still doing the traditional onion skin eggs
but also trying other natural dyes like
red cabbage (blue) and beets (khaki)

I know now, that this simple gesture, of coloring the eggs this way, was her way of tying her back to her roots, her childhood.  A life that was uprooted by the genocide.  A childhood that came to an end all too soon when our people were forced from our homeland and made to walk through the desert.  She was a survivor. Although she never said it, I'm sure dying the eggs this way was an affirmation of her past...and her present.  Once I got married and left my family home, I started dying the eggs with onion skins.  It was a way to carry on the tradition. And when I had children, yes, I would still buy the Easter egg kits with the pretty colors, but I would always, always, do a couple dozen with the onion skins.  By then, my grandmother had passed away, and I was determined to keep that tradition to keep her memory alive.  And so my children grew up with this beautiful Easter tradition passed down from my grandmother. 

You all know about my empty nest.  Last October, my daughter Ani got married, and this was my first year in 25 years that I have dyed eggs without her.  Oh, she was still there…we were tweeting and texting back and forth through the process. We've always enjoyed dying eggs together. And we started a spin on the tradition a few years back…still dying with the onion skins but pressing leaves on the surface of the eggs to create designs or experimenting with other natural dyes too.  My husband came into the kitchen to ask if I needed help.  I didn’t have to answer.  He picked up an egg and worked beside me wrapping the leaves for the dye.  And as we worked, I started thinking about traditions and blessings and the past and the future.

Our family has another tradition too.  Choreg.  My mother - Mamajan -  is the choreg baker of the family.  People love this sweet soft roll that she makes at Christmas and Easter time.  It's really the best, and so good that it won a blue ribbon at the L.A. County Fair in the 60’s. As a child I would sit and watch her crank out the choreg, uniformly, one just the same size and shape as the next and placing my own wonky “s” shapes and “snail” coils on the tray beside hers.  Later, when I had children, they would go over to help her make choreg (or really just to play with the dough).  Years go by.  For the past ten years, Ani and Mamajan have been working together during the holidays to make the choreg happen.  My mom can no longer knead the huge amount of dough, and Ani has taken that over.  So this past week, my mom was asking about schedules, and when we could possibly find the time to make choreg this year.  It’s difficult, I told her, with work, Holy Week schedules, 

Mamajan & Ani
Baking Choregs on Choregshapti

life.  And then something beautiful happened.  On Palm Sunday, Ani asked Mamajan over to HER house…to make choreg together and start a new tradition.  And she also invited my two nieces to come, because it was time for them to learn too.  I watched my daughter carefully write down the list of groceries that my mother dictated to her from memory. And just today, 
Wednesday, they got to work and created tray after tray of choreg. Baking Choreg on Choregshapti.   Ani's are just like Mamajan's...and my niece's choregs were like my wonky shapes from when I was their age.

As a parent, I am so blessed to see this full circle. Young and old…the past and present.  Coming together. Traditions upheld, and new ones made. They bond us with our past, and create in us a sense of belonging, but they also help to bring familiarity to new experiences. And in a most beautiful way, they fill our hearts with the memories of dear ones whose presence is missed during these family holidays.

My beautiful choreg bakers:
Clockwise:  Madi, Ani, Mamajan and Nic

Wishing you and your family a very pomegranate Easter – filled with traditions, fresh choreg, dyed eggs and abundant with God’s blessings! Krisdos haryav e merelotz.  Ortnyal eh harootiunun Krisdosi!


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You can hear an audio version of this post read on today's podcast episode of   "The Next Step with Father Vazken"

The Journey Continues ...

Not I, nor anyone else can travel that  road for you.
You must travel it by yourself.
It is not far.  It is within reach.
Perhaps you have been on it since you were born, and did not know.
Perhaps it is everywhere - on water and land."
- Walk Whitman, Leaves of Grass

Prior to lent, I started my year off with the “One Little Word” project.  I blogged about it…my word for the year being Balance.  But then early on in my Lenten journey, I decided that Balance just wasn’t going to work for someone like me that does so much teetering.  Lent gave me that focus to really hone in on me, my life, what needed tweaking now, and what needs sorting through later.  Balance had to take a back burner to PEACE.  And so a few weeks ago, I declared my new word for the year.  PEACE.  And my Lenten journey is helping me to achieve it.

One of the things I worked on(and am still working on), is keeping a check on negativity.  I don’t think of myself as being a negative person at all.  But there are things in my life that I would like to change, and sometimes these things are not entirely in my control.  Or maybe they are but they require patience (also not one of my strong suits).  This leads to a degree of negativity that tends to cloud over my days sometimes.  So I’ve really been trying to make that a focus, an awareness, on my journey.  So here's an example of how the scenario goes: I’m at work, feeling like a square peg in a round hole, and I start getting all dark inside, and that leads to a mental funk.  A few minutes later, I’m assessing the situation and stopping myself from going there (okay, I'm there, but stopping myself from going deeper in).  And I’ve been turning it around and trying to focus on the positive:  I am alive; We are able to pay the bills, We ate today… I am warm today. You get the idea.  And it has really helped me to work on the “peace” issue.  The problems might still be there…and it’s not that they’re not going to get a serious looking at, but being negative in light of so much positive is just not productive.

And the second thing that I worked on was gossip – especially being on the receiving end.  This one was difficult and I’ll tell you why.  Like vegetarianism, when you don’t partake in it, the person that you’re not partaking with feels that you are judging them.  And that’s totally not the case.  I have had to stop friends and say, “if it’s bad, please don’t share that with me…I’m working on it for lent.”  I didn’t say what “it” was.  Or in the event that we were in a group, and there was conversation going on, I had to stop myself from commenting…which again is viewed as you being aloof or not wanting to participate.  BUT, I have to say that the feeling afterward is one of exhilaration. I remembered back a few years ago when I was much heavier than I am today.  Because I wasn’t happy with myself back then, I was hyper critical of others.  Whereas now, the focus is more on self-improvement. The no gossip has also gone hand in hand with the no negativity thing.  Gossip is negative.  No room for it.  And both of those have made me much more peaceful inside.

My lenten journey has helped me keep my focus on things.  There is a LOT of room for improvement in my life.  I do still need to re-visit balance and patience, but I have a feeling that they will eventually come.  Even though lent is almost over, the journey is really just beginning.  Now it’s time to take what I’ve learned about myself, and move it forward. Of course, none of these are possible without prayer – a dialogue between myself and God which helps me focus and feel like I’m on the right track.  

This Sunday being Palm Sunday, I’m looking forward to taking communion again.  It’s been six weeks.  There’s a lot to atone for, and a lot to be thankful for. I hope your Lenten journeys have been fulfilling as well.  May God give us the strength to grow from what we have learned over this period of introspection, and to carry it forward in our lives.
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You can hear this podcast read on epostle's weekly podcast, The Next Step with Fr. Vazken.  Click here to tune in.

Are you trying to get healthy?  Lose some weight?  Join me on "The Journey of the Pudgy Pomegranate" at www.pudgypomegranate.blogspot.com  

Making a Difference

I watched this video this morning on Facebook and thought it was so beautiful - how one man made the difference, and ended up bringing the community together.  It's stories like this that bring out the best in humanity.