BELONGING TO MANY WORLDS BUT BELONGING TO NONE

AN ONLINE MAGAZINE

| 2006 Archive
| 2005 Archive
| 2004 Archive
| Respond

FROM THE MARGINS | BY PATRICK AZADIAN
Los Angeles Times Valley Edition | Glendale News-Press | March 10 2006

It's all my parents' fault

I had a discussion recently with an Armenian friend on the topic of why Armenians in Glendale are getting a not-so-good reputation.

My friend left me with a thought: "Well, if the shoe fits, wear it." The remark was as much directed to me, as it was to herself.

The irony is, neither of us contributes to the making of this infamous shoe.

What's tainting the reputation of this community (food for future columns), goes against all the values my parents have tried to instill in me. And, I can't say this quickly enough, my family is not so unique.

Most of my friends and extended family members subscribe to these values.

The general theme of my family's value system has always revolved around honest work, importance of family, education and respect for others. There is also a strong sentiment against gaudiness, materialism and superficiality.

I know I sound like a Republican presidential candidate, but I am not willing to wear a shoe that does not fit.

The well-intentioned, and sometimes naïve, teachings of my parents and grandparents began at young age.

I was probably only 6 when I was gifted a small white convertible toy Ford Thunderbird. My maternal grandfather walked in from work and saw me making imaginary noises while I pushed the American classic on the crimson-colored Persian carpet: "Vroom, Vroom," I said. He looked at the model car and responded: "What, a toy! Let's get you a book to read!"

The man tried, and I resisted. It was not until I was 9 when I got a taste of reading. Harsh rural circumstances forced me into it.

My family had temporarily relocated to a remote town for business opportunities; television sets were scarce. Children's magazines became my saviors from boredom.

By the time the exile was over, I had enough interest in reading to hijack my aunts' glossy women's magazines. They paved the way to Albert Camus.

Books: Good. Flashy cars: Not so important.

My grandfather had planted the seed.

Like many teenagers across America, I had a valid driver's license by age 17. I also harbored the illusion that I had some rights to our family's brand new Chevy Malibu (at the time it was a cool car if you lived in Sacramento) on the rare occasion I went out on a date.

I made the mistake of asking a classmate out to the movies, assuming the metallic blue monster would be available to impress. My mom had other ideas. "If she really likes you, she will go to the movies with you on a bus." she said.

I opted out of the date. I had enough wisdom to recognize that the visual picture of my date and I hanging from the metal railings in the bus, occasionally swaying back and forth at every stop was way un-cool.

The message here was noble: People should like you for what you are, not for what you have.

Another lesson was: As long as you get an education, you can study whatever you like. This policy and my indecisive character probably contributed to my dabbling in all sorts of academic majors.

Education: Good. Parents should only guide their children in life, and not force their own dreams on their offspring.

My mom still works. And for the majority of his life, my father started his workdays at 5 a.m. and returned home in the evening. His workweeks were often six or sometimes seven days.

Honest work: Good.

On the rare occasions when my mom had a professional helping hand around the house (some would call her a maid), she would insist the lady from the less privileged part of town sit with us at the dining table for lunch, an unorthodox concept even for today.

The message here was clear: Treat people with dignity and respect, no matter where they are from or who they are.

I don't consider my family values as Armenian, just human. Maybe they are too idealistic, and a bit naïve for the world we live in. They may even be misguided at times. But these are the values of my family and many of my friends.

And if there are those in our city who commit wrongs, and they have lost their way by coming into wealth too suddenly, and if they want to take a shortcut to the dream of owning three SUVs and a palace on the hills, well, those are their values, not mine, and not my friends'.

Copyright 2006 Glendale News Press