Mary
Armenia
my name is Mary Basmadjian
[Meh-ree Bas-madj-yan]
My divine roots are from Armenia.
I identify as Armenian-American.
I was born in Hollywood, California
and raised between Hollywood & Pasadena, California.
ROOTS
Both of my parents were born in Armenia and separately immigrated to Los Angeles, California as teenagers. My dad was born in Yerevan & came here at age 16 with his parents, brothers, and grandmother. My mom was born in Zeytun and came here at age 13 with her parents. All of my grandparents were born in Egypt; one set is from Alexandria and the other set is from Cairo.
have you visited the land?
Yes, I visited Armenia in 2007. I felt a connection the moment we landed. The people were so warm, friendly, welcoming… familiar. There was something in the air that made me feel like I had been there before. I kept feeling strange moments of deja vu as I explored Yerevan.
Armenia is very ancient. It has a long and rich history. A lot of things in Armenia are very old. There’s lots of construction going on. It felt very validating being there amongst these old/ancient places and things.
I don’t consider myself very religious, but I felt a different level of spirituality upon entering the churches in the mountains. I felt so connected right away.
One of the most profound places I visited was Xor Virap Monastery near the Armenian/Turkish border. I went down into the same place where Saint Gregory the Illuminator was held captive; it was a very grounding and centering experience.
(Xor Virap translates to “deep dungeon” and it’s where St Gregory the Illuminator was sent for punishment for 13 years before his role in Armenian’s conversion to Christianity in 301 AD).
do you speak the language?
Ayo (Yes), I speak Armenian fluently. I speak with an Eastern dialect, but I am also comfortable understanding the Western dialect.
My grandparents spoke with a Western dialect because of their Egyptian-Armenian background. My parents spoke with an Eastern dialect because their friends were post-Soviet immigrants from Armenia who spoke with an Eastern dialect. I went to school in Pasadena which had a larger Lebanese-Armenian and Syrian-Armenian community who spoke with a Western dialect. I can also understand the Persian-Armenian dialect that is mixed with Farsi.
When I was in middle school, I started attending Armenian school on Saturdays. I remember learning about how the Eastern and Western dialects were so different and getting upset. I wish we didn’t have a split of dialects. Language preservation would be easier. Understanding each other as Armenians, no matter where we were from, would be easier.
I hated it as a kid, but as an adult I am so grateful that my Dad was determined for me to learn to read and write in Armenian. Even before I attended Saturday school, he would pick me up on Saturday mornings and take me to Abril bookstore to learn Armenian handwriting through the little workbooks they offered. Then, he’d take me to my grandparents house, where all my cousins would be swimming in the pool, and I would be with my grandma at the kitchen table, studying Armenian. My grandma helped me a lot and was way more patient than my dad.
we shot in the Yard of your family home in Pasadena — why does that setting feel like home for you?
I am so grateful for this grounding slice of nature that my family and I have created so many memories in.
I remember playing ball with my dad in that area when I first started visiting him and his parents after the divorce.
The “tut” (mulberry) tree was planted by my grandma’s brother, Vortik papik, when he came to America in the early 90s. I remember as a kid, my cousins (his grandkids) and I would climb the tree to pick the sweeter ones from up top. Sometimes we would lay out tablecloth on the grass below the tree and we would shake it to get more tut without climbing. One telltale sign we had been at it with the tut tree was our purple stained fingers and mouths. Vortik papik passed away over 25 years ago and we’re still enjoying the tree he planted. I'm so grateful. the tut tree symbolizes childhood wonder and fun.
I love the “nor ashkar” tree, which translates to “New World” and refers to the Loquat fruit. all of my relatives and even our Armenian neighbors have this tree in their yards. I remember being introduced to it by Mari tatik; once again giving me the feeling of gratitude for having access to delicious and beautiful nature. to me, nor ashkar symbolizes abundance and appreciation.
The grape leaves are a bit of a newer addition to the yard. My dad planted it and we pick it to make “tolma” (a traditional armenian dish where grape leaves are stuffed with a savory filling). well, I pick it and give it to my aunt and she makes the tolma lol. I love seeing the intricate ways the vines grow up on the side of the house when it gets wild and we don't trim them. The grape leaves symbolize sharing meals with loved ones.
what do you love most about la?
I was born and raised here, LA is all I know. Truthfully, I have never felt “the need to go explore” (which can be a double edged sword) because there’s already so much diversity, culture and art here.
I am grateful for the accessibility to the different communities. Being here has broadened my perspective of people and their vast range of experiences, especially through the arts; I’ve learned about women’s rights, civil rights & queer history.
what don’t you love about la?
As an artist, it’s getting more and more expensive and unrealistic to live here.
Also, I don’t love the reputation LA gets about being fake and being filled with shallow people. I think people move here to fulfill their dreams of pursuing creative careers (like acting or singing, etc) and end up falling victim to assholes who prey on folks with dreams.
Personally, my experience here has been different. I’ve been surrounded by the love and support of my friends and family and community – which is the complete opposite of the people who move here (away from their loved ones) to fulfill their dreams.
As an Armenian, I don’t love that many Armenians prefer to stay within the bubble of our own community. Another double-edged sword – on one hand, it’s good that we are a tight knit community who helps each other out, but on the other hand, I believe that getting out of our bubble to connect with and learn from other cultures (especially fellow immigrants) will benefit everyone.
If we want growth or some kind of recognition & outside support for our community we have to get out of our comfort zone and connect with others.
Growing up, I felt like Armenians had different experiences from other immigrant families. But as I’ve gotten older, I’ve realized that we actually have similar experiences, we just express ourselves differently.
how has your experience in la affected your worldview?
I don’t know if it’s possible to be exposed and sheltered at the same time. I’m exposed to so much that inspires me here, but in a way it feels like I’m living in a bubble too because the rest of America isn’t like LA... It has skewed my perception of this country.
what are examples of intergenerational resilience in your culture?
Preserving the language and culture. We use it to connect and build no matter where we are in the world.
I often think back to the William Saroyan quote:
“I should like to see any power of the world destroy this race, this small tribe of unimportant people, whose wars have all been fought and lost, whose structures have crumbled, literature is unread, music is unheard, and prayers are no more answered.
Go ahead, destroy Armenia. See if you can do it. Send them into the desert without bread or water. Burn their homes and churches. Then see if they will not laugh, sing, and pray again. For when two of them meet anywhere in the world, see if they will not create a New Armenia.” (1936)
I love the language, as a writer/comedian/performer, I appreciate the effort we put in. It’s so complex & nuanced – not always directly translatable but always has flavor. We communicate in a very passionate and animated way.
what are examples of intergenerational trauma in your culture?
Shame is a really big one, “amot.” I wish we didn't hold on to it so tightly in our culture. It gets in the way of what we want – unity & healing.
I used to feel more seen by other cultures than my own because of how much Armenians prioritize public perception. I’ve learned that “amot” is not the most important thing to hold onto and bury within. Healing comes through speaking our truths and connecting with other humans.
There are a lot of control issues and projections of “amot”, especially tied to physical appearance & food. People are constantly commenting on each other's bodies and looks while encouraging them to eat more or go on a diet or both.
One of the last fights I had with my mom was over me not wanting to get weight loss surgery. She made me feel like I was the one bringing “amot” to the family. But I knew that I didn’t want to consider surgery until I started healing within. I didn’t feel like I was living right, I knew I had to adjust my regimen. I knew that once I had my own place with my own kitchen, I wouldn’t be as dysregulated with food.
Growing up, I can recall two people in my family who were ahead of their time, and actually offered healthy insights to me:
Mari “tatik” (grandma) - one time I was on a strict diet when she said: don’t be restrictive, just eat when you’re hungry and don’t eat when you’re not hungry.
Varouj “hopar” (uncle) - he took the time to explain how the heart works and spoke about the human body in a scientific way versus only talking about what to do to your body to lose weight.
Like many others in my culture, I lived with an eating disorder for 20+ years. In recent years, I started going to therapy where I learned about intuitive eating and joyful movement; I thought of my tatik & hopar. I threw away the bathroom scale. I am releasing my “amot” and I am slowly healing. Part of healing is destroying the expectation others keep projecting on you.
how do you break the cycle?
I’m breaking it by speaking out about it, exposing it and shedding light on the darkest parts we sweep under the rug. I think it’s important to talk about trauma in a vulnerable & honest way.
Since I wasn't raised in a traditional Armenian household, I didn't have as many restrictions as another Armenian woman who might have been reprimanded for expressing themselves in that unfiltered way.
Growing up, I hated not coming from a “normal” household (I lived with grandparents) but now looking back, the thing that made me feel the most alienated from my Armenian friends is the same thing that gave me the privilege and freedom to express myself fully. I’m so grateful.
Because of this freedom I was able to write and perform my one woman show called “Mom, Are you there?” something that would put 20 year old Mary in a coma from shame lol. It's about my relationship with my young narcissistic mother and all the things that came with it. I touch on my eating disorder, low self worth and traditional Armenian expectations I never quite reached. As an artist, it made me get out of my comfort zone and do more serious writing and acting. It also gave me confidence and made me realize the expectations I had put on myself and the shame that came with it were so unnecessary and detrimental to my growth and healing.
how do you honor your roots / culture?
Through the arts – supporting Armenian artists & events as well as creating my own art. Doing comedy, creating Armenian characters, making videos in Armenian and English to build a bridge between Armenians in Armenia and Armenians in the Diaspora, as well as sharing our culture with “otars” (other cultures) so that they feel connected and want to learn more.
place in the local community that feel like home:
Abril Books holds so much love and fond memories for me; from going there as a kid with my dad to pick up Armenian workbooks to me finding & sending my mom books from there when she was away. Not to mention Arno is the best! He’s so nice and inclusive of everyone.
people in the online community you are inspired by
I’m inspired by everyone and they mama lol
