Who might learn Armenian?

by Tom Vartabedian

Published: Monday June 28, 2010

Some of the Armenian letters.

Haverhill, Mass. - In my never-ending quest to keep the Armenian tongue alive, I have often searched for answers as to why anyone might want to learn this language.

I do know that if you are Armenian, you might have a vested interest in our heritage. And it doesn't take a genius to understand that if the language is lost, so is the heritage, the culture, the tradition and, in some ways, the history.

It is for that reason I spent 25 years as an Armenian School instructor at my church (St. Gregory in North Andover, MA). And it's for that precise reason why I decided to teach an Armenian course at my community college (Northern Essex).

There I stood, before a class of eight students, on opening day, trying to read their minds. Before I got into the linguistics, I asked each of them why they were here. It should be noted that four of the students were Armenian - two from my parish - and the other four had little or no idea what our country was all about.

"I'm Jewish," said Judith Salkovitz. "In many ways, our people suffered a similar holocaust. We come from races that have been resilient."

In her advanced stage, Salkovitz wanted to learn more about the culture than the language to "broaden her knowledge about a country apart from her own."

"I want to learn how to conjugate verbs," said Lisa Apovian, a former student I taught in Sunday School.

She admitted that was a long time ago and she had lost a lot of it in her adult life as an elementary school instructor.

"I come from a strong Armenian family background," she said. "I'm missing a lot because I don't speak the language fluently."

Armen Derderian admitted he went to Armenian school as a lad. Like most his age then, and now, there was that resistance. He would have rather been out hitting a baseball. Now he's hoping to make amends.

Diane Maloomian arrived all the way from Gloucester - an hour's commute - to take the class. She bore all the features of a beautiful Armenian woman.

"Both my parents were Armenian," she said. "We were raised in a French-Canadian town in New Hampshire and a lot of it fell through the cracks. My father was a genocide survivor. He's sitting right beside me in this class, at least in spirit."

Carolyn Hyatt-Dixon lays claim to being part-Armenian. The Hyatt in her name was changed from Hayatian. She was struck by a certain curiosity with the language and wanted to discover her roots.

"I was raised in a Catholic church and wished I had paid more attention to Armenian growing up," she confessed.

Joanne Nahil was born a Janigian. Like others, she drifted away upon marriage. She regrets that turning point in her life and wants to get back.

This is not my first hand as a college Armenian instructor. I was formally anointed to the night school faculty 13 years ago with a similar course.

Two students I shall never forget. One was Richard Shattuck, a 20-something fellow who was on a quest. He was to wed an Armenian girl. Only problem was, his future mother-in-law refused to endorse the marriage.

"I want to surprise her on my wedding day to show how sincere I am about adopting the Armenian heritage," he brought out. "I want to speak Armenian to her."

He had registered for the course without the knowledge of his fiancée or her stubborn mother. On the last day of class, he handed me an invitation to attend.

It was a beautiful moment for Richard and his bride. He shocked her - and the mother - by speaking what little Armenian he learned and dancing some steps he had taught himself in the interim.

It looked like a scene from "My Big, Fat Greek Wedding."

The other individual was an octogenarian named Charlie Garabedian and he had his personal mission.

"I can speak," he said, "but I want to learn how to read and write before I die."

The others in class endeared themselves to good, old Charlie. They called him "bab," because they had seen a picture of an old man in the text they were using.

Well, his wish came true on both accounts. I saw Charlie's obituary notice in a local paper. He took the language right with him to the grave - every bit of it. I have a word for him.

"Thanks, Charlie, for giving me every reason to feel a little special."