“Bi - lingual, Bi - cultural...” (Winter 08)

Shahane Martirosyan
smartirosyan@media.ucla.edu

Years ago I read a poem by a Hispanic author whose name I cannot remember and for some reason it touched me more than any poem I had ever read. It was a poem about an immigrant complaining about the world he or she lives in.

I couldn’t comprehend why the poem touched me so much and why I wanted to read it over and over again. Not until six years later, five o’ clock in the morning do I understand the full meaning of it, as a third year college student in a prestigious school in the United States.

Although I receive letters from the dean’s office offering honors society acceptances, I am an Armenian. I know the last sentence sounded like a dim-witted demonstration of my identity. However, this is me, stuck in two cultures that accept me with open arms while never forgetting my Achilles’ heel.

The poem starts out: "Bi-lingual, bi-cultural" and when I first read it, the line was too familiar for me to even comprehend the significance of it. "Bi-lingual, bi-cultural." These two words have been ringing in my ears since freshman year in high school. I am not only bi-lingual, I am bi-cultural.

My point here is not for anyone to be amazed at this fact, I am trying to convey that having more than one culture and language is more than a beautiful trait, it is also the biggest burden ever.

Sometimes I try so hard to be an Armenian that I forget the fact that no matter what I do I can never change the fact that I am one. Whether I walk around with the Armenian flag tattooed on my forehead or I wear an anti-genocide shirt to bed, it does not make me more Armenian. However, since my immigration to Los Angeles I have come to realize that many people judge you on the number of times you were your ASA shirt and your ‘1915 Never Again’ tank top because displaying certain characteristics apparently makes you more cultured.

On the other hand, if you walk around listening to Nas or Bone Thugs N Harmony you decrease your Armenian-ness, because when you listen to rap music you become more "black" (whatever that means). This never made sense to me. I have never been able to comprehend how listening to certain genre of music can take away from your culture. I remember how living in Yerevan, nobody would ever tell me that I am integrating myself into the "black" culture because I am listening to 2pac.

After a long day at work and at school I end up at home where my parents have this incredible need to remind me on a daily basis that I don’t speak in Armenian correctly and a good Armenian should not forget her language. I usually yell back at my parents about how I do know Armenian, I simply choose not to speak it because we live in the United States. Then they whimsically state that the United States does not have an official language (something I have taught them to tell their bosses), hence I don’t have to speak in English. After this redundant conversation I go to bed dreaming about the poem I read when I was only 14 years old.

"Bi-lingual, bi-cultural." I am able to communicate in smooth English while chatting away on my computer in fluent Armenian, yet for some reason neither my peers nor my parents accept my identity. But I still don’t know what my identity is here. At times I am not American at all, sometimes I am not Armenian either, and then I don’t speak Armenian well enough to be considered a good Armenian.

What I love the most is the treatment I get when visiting Armenia. The beauty in the looks of the over-tipped waitresses in the cafes that tell me "Honey, you may speak Armenian, but you’re not one of us." How could I be one of them? I am an American in their eyes. I don’t know how many drams it would take to make a dollar, and I don’t know where the hamalsaran is, most of all, I don’t know what it is like to live in horrific Armenia. I don’t know why I am always too white for some people, too Armenian to others and too something to the rest.

I didn’t mean to write an article with any connotations. I am simply sitting in front of my laptop too early in the morning, wondering why I haven’t forgotten the line "bi-lingual, bi-cultural."