BY SEVANA KOPALIAN

Ever since I was a little girl, I have felt ashamed of living in America.

It was September 27, 2020, I had just woken up. I was about to open Zoom and log into my first class. Suddenly my father forwarded a news article to our family group chat saying that a war had broken out in Artsakh. My heart sank. That feeling of shame and guilt came over me again.

I thought to myself, “How can it be fair that I can live my life in America without having to constantly worry about if and when a war will break out, while my brothers and sisters in Armenia live with that fear every day?” There was no answer to that question.

The first time I visited Armenia was in 2017. When I got off the plane and entered Zvartnots airport, I felt peace and at home in a place I had never seen before. When I saw my grandfather, uncles, aunts and cousins ​​for the first time, they showered me with love, kisses and hugs. I felt tears welling up in that moment from overwhelming joy.

When I saw my mother’s childhood home and the streets where she played with the children from her apartment block, I felt like I had been robbed of my childhood. As a child, I couldn’t play on the streets without feeling unsafe. I was angry, disappointed, and never wanted to leave. At that age, I couldn’t even imagine why my mother had moved to America in the first place.

Then the time came to return to America. My heart was so heavy that I left the place where I felt most comfortable.

The second time I visited Armenia was in 2023. I was a little older and had a more mature outlook on life. When I saw my family again, the same feeling of overwhelming joy flooded through me. This time, the tears came from a feeling of guilt, the same guilt that has tormented me for years.

I looked at my cousins ​​and felt so guilty because they had to see and experience so much at such a young age. Being older, I began to understand and see things differently than the first time I was there. I saw how happy my cousins ​​were over the smallest things and I felt so ashamed of the way I had behaved in the past over insignificant material things. I felt so grateful and so terrible at the same time. At that moment, I would give my cousins ​​everything I owned if I could.

After this trip, I had a different idea of ​​how I felt. I still had a small residual feeling of guilt in my heart, but my gratitude drove that guilt away. I learned that in the diaspora, my voice is not muffled, but illuminated. I can reach so many people in so many different ways, and I don’t have to live in Armenia to do it.

My ancestors fought for survival in the genocide and that is how my family and I ended up in America. It is an opportunity that every diaspora resident should take so that we can spread our knowledge of our history in America and educate ignorant people about our history.

Even though I am 7,193.02 miles away from home, I carry its culture, its food, its warmth and its people with me every day.

Sevana Kopalian is a junior at Holy Martyrs Ferrahian High School