Helping shape Armenia’s AI future: How a TorontoArmenian is innovating in Yerevan
Conversation → 10
What does it take to research Armenian studies?
Opinion → 18
հաւատքը դարձած է իր ինքնութեան հիմնասիւներէն
խօսած են, ինչ որ ո՛չ միայն
CASSANDRA HEALTH CENTRE
ARMENIAN
MEDICAL CENTRE & PHARMACY
Dr. Rupert Abdalian Gastroenteology
Dr. Mari Marinosyan
Family Physician
Dr. Omayma Fouda
Family Physician
Dr. I. Manhas
Family Physician
Dr. Virgil Huang Pediatrician
Dr. M. Seifollahi
Family Physician
Dr. M. Teitelbaum
Family Physician
In memoriam. Jirayr (Jerry) Hovhannessian (1934-2025)
By Arsho Zakarian
A life of over sixty years dedicated to volunteering cannot be summed up in just a page or two. Jirayr, Sona, and their toddler, Chris, arrived in Canada in the dead of winter in 1966, facing a snowstorm. Yet, that did not deter them from building a new life. They moved to Toronto in 1968, where their second child, Salpi, was born.
Born in Aleppo, Syria, Jirayr was the son of Krikor and Baydzar, both survivors of the Armenian Genocide. His father passed away when he was still a baby, and he learned early on to be independent, cheerful, and practical. He later worked as a mechanic for the Toronto Transit Commission (TTC).
Together with his wife, Sona, he was deeply involved in the life and progress of the Armenian community. Along with friends, he helped establish the Hamazkayin chapter in Toronto in 1969 and remained an active member until the very end. Even when his health prevented him from attending events in person, he remained engaged and interested in every aspect of community life. He also contributed to the establishment of St. Mary Armenian Church and served on the board of directors when the new
1979.
Jirayr was known for his sharp sense of humour, storytelling abilities, and natural talent for writing and reciting poetry. A passionate amateur actor, he performed in all the major plays produced by Hamazkayin in its early years. He was also a longtime member of Hamazkayin’s Koussan Choir.
As a grandfather, he was devoted to Mia and Eena. Mia described her grandparents as:
"...an incredible team. A power couple—both intelligent and poetic, strong personalities, performers, very much in love until the end—teaching us how to be the best offspring, partners,
siblings, and friends we could be."
Eena considered herself fortunate, saying:
"I got 21 years with my dede, filled with laughter, opera singing, dancing, playing dress-up, and so many more happy memories."
His adult children, Chris and Salpi, along with their spouses, Christine and Torsten, spoke of their father with deep reverence and admiration.
During his funeral, touching commemorative eulogies were delivered by Hamazkayin Central Committee member Tamar Donabedian Kuzuyan and ARF Soghomon Tehlirian Chapter’s Executive Secretary, Sevan HajiArtinian.
The parish priest of St. Mary Armenian Apostolic Church, Very Rev. Datev Mikayelian, read a letter Jirayr had written in response to the church’s invitation to an “intimate gathering” marking its 40th anniversary. His letter reflected his unwavering love for the church and the community he cherished.
On his casket lay two flags—those of the Armenian Revolutionary Federation (ARF) and the Hamazkayin Armenian Educational and Cultural Society. He had earned both. His contributions to these organizations, as well as to the establishment of St. Mary Armenian Church, were significant. The flags were symbolic victory wreaths, honouring a generation of brave men and women who built this community. Their greatest satisfaction has been witnessing a new generation take up the commitment and responsibility of not only preserving these organizations but ensuring they continue to thrive.
As we bid farewell to our beloved Jirayr, we say without hesitation: Your memory will remain with us, your lively spirit will inspire us, and your stories will be retold at our gatherings.
Till we meet again... ֎
Armenian Community Centre (ACC) was built in
Helping shape Armenia’s AI future:
How a Toronto-Armenian is innovating in Yerevan
“It was my family history, an unmapped part of my identity.” With these words, Toronto-born machine learning researcher Philipp Guevorguian describes the seed of curiosity that ultimately inspired his move to Armenia. A former Birthright Armenia participant, Philipp now works at YerevaNN, an artificial intelligence research hub in Yerevan, where he leads groundbreaking projects, including an ‘AI chemist’ capable of designing new medicines faster.
Reflecting on his time in Armenia, he shares, “Every day here still feels distinct, and it isn’t always comfortable, but the novelty and connections keep me motivated.”
In this exclusive interview with Torontohye, Philipp dives into his repatriation experience, the challenges and triumphs of working in Armenia’s burgeoning tech sector, and the unique ways Toronto’s multiculturalism prepared him for life in the homeland. ***
Torontohye: Can you tell us about your journey from Toronto to Yerevan? What motivated your decision to move to Armenia, and was there a defining moment or event that solidified your choice?
Philipp Guevorguian: Growing up, my father’s rapid-fire Armenian phone calls and the stories of my grandfather’s life in the old country engaged my curiosity. It was my family history, an unmapped part of my identity. That’s why, when discussing the worldwide suite of Birthright programs with friends, I said that if Armenia had such a program, I would definitely participate. My friend Liam mentioned that Birthright Armenia does, in fact, exist, so I decided to join on the spot, instantly actualizing a latent desire to engage with my heritage. This is the trip that would allow me to better understand myself and witness Armenia first-hand.
Arriving in Yerevan, I noticed ancient script engraved on buildings, animated conversations on the street (literally), and the roads bending in an unfamiliar manner. I chose to volunteer at a Yerevan-based tech company, where I witnessed engineers tackling complex problems with ingenuity and collaboration. They worked late into the night yet would wake up early enough for a multi-kilometre swim or shooting session before work. Naturally, I was elated when they offered me a full-time
job after I finished volunteering, which later led to my position at YerevaNN.
Two years on, every day in Armenia still feels distinct, and it isn’t always comfortable. Still, the day-to-day novelty and connections serve as great motivation. I’ve spent hundreds of hours immersing myself in the language, connecting with family and friends I never knew, and adapting to the rhythm of Armenian life. There hasn’t been a defining moment; my continuous involvement with the country and strong communal bonds have consistently reaffirmed my decision to live here.
Torontohye: Growing up in Toronto, how has your background influenced your path and experiences now that you live and work in Armenia?
Guevorguian: Growing up in one of the most multicultural cities in the world made me aware of the Armenian community’s presence—I saw the churches, smelled the delicious food from Armenian restaurants, and heard about community events. However, aside from the occasional dolma at home, I didn’t have an intimate understanding of Armenian history, culture, or the community in Toronto.
Instead, the community was mostly within the broader scope of a multicultural metropolis. Paradoxically, this distance gave me room to question and reflect. In that context, my repatriation has been a closing of that distance and uncovering parts of my identity that have always been present but hitherto unrealized.
Torontohye: And are there specific values or experiences from Toronto that resonate with you in Armenia?
Guevorguian: Toronto is a hub for international dialogue; it fosters an understanding of interconnected global issues. This understanding is especially relevant in Armenia today. The country faces real geopolitical pressures, and the local geopolitical context within which Armenian life exists has an immense impact on daily life. Living in Armenia, you’re affected by ever-changing trade barriers, transport routes, and security conditions that can be hard to track. Living here, I appreciate how welcoming and helpful people in Yerevan have been in bridging that knowledge gap.
My path to engaging with Armenian identity, starting with Toronto’s multicultural grid and leading to Yerevan, has given me a particular fondness for the Armenian people’s
resilience, resourcefulness, and enduring nature. I see the same commitment to community, drive to succeed, and passion for preserving heritage in both Toronto and Yerevan. It’s an honour to have the former inspire my ongoing contributions to the latter.
Torontohye: At YerevaNN, you’re working on some pioneering AI projects. Could you walk us through one of your recent projects and its potential impact?
Guevorguian: At YerevaNN, one of our recent research projects centres on applying AI to pharmaceutical development. This work combines a massive collection of curated chemical data, a large language model we trained (think ChatGPT for chemistry), and a custom algorithm to design new medicines. The system acts as an AI chemist that you can ask to create specific classes of molecules. It then provides suitable candidate drugs 10% faster than the next-best approach. Our long-term goal is for researchers to request chemicals with particular properties and have this ‘AI chemist’ design them without needing expensive lab experiments.
A unique obstacle throughout project development was adapting AI methods to real-world constraints. Ensuring the scalability of our work in a low-resource setting required creative solutions. Our team used efficient algorithms, work scheduling, and collaborations to overcome hardware bottlenecks. This project’s impact extends beyond technology—it represents a continuation of Armenia’s legacy in intellectual achievement and growing capacity to compete with leading AI labs worldwide in competitive research directions. It also exemplifies the value of collaboration. Ex-Meta researcher Armen Aghajanyan’s AI experience in large-scale training complemented our team’s expertise, making our model development more efficient. Similarly, domain specialists assisted with data and proposing evaluations for our system. In the near future, our work will include even closer involvement with industry partners.
Torontohye: How does it feel to contribute to such cutting-edge work in Armenia, and have you encountered any unique challenges working within a smaller tech environment?
Guevorguian: The project has been personally rewarding, especially in mentoring more junior researchers at YerevaNN. In one such case, a
university student, initially hesitant about the complexity of our project, quickly developed an ability to design and execute experiments independently. Now, they even lead others. Situations like this are simulacra of the Armenian tech scene’s perseverance, rapid development, and collaborative nature. Yet, challenges remain. While the community fosters camaraderie and collaboration, it limits access to specialized senior talent. This constraint can delay progress on high-skill projects.
identified specific AI verticals we want to scale: aerial perception and navigation, chemistry/biology, and embedded systems. To that end, our organization serves several functional purposes. First, as a research hub, we explore and develop problems within those specialized fields. Second, we act as a bridge, bringing cutting-edge tools, methodologies, and know-how from global partners— corporations and academic institutions— and making them accessible to the broader Armenian tech community. The goal here is to raise the standard for the entire tech ecosystem. Third, we are a training ground, developing the next generation of Armenian AI specialists with the skills and
watched university staff install their first-ever server-grade multi-GPU system. Keeping this capacity in Armenia is an essential focus lest deep-tech development gets reduced to making API calls to servers at large companies in other countries.
But succeeding in Armenia is different from succeeding in Toronto or Silicon Valley. We face political volatility, sanctions on our trade partners, and infrastructure gaps—anyone who has dealt with frequent power outages here can attest to this, never mind access to high-performance computing. Export controls from Western nations have had a significant ripple effect, too, as our purchasing and delivery ecosystem here in Armenia leads to lengthy backand-forths to procure components for high-tech systems. Exacerbating these issues are structural obstacles in funding and investment, where a preference for low-risk, low-innovation projects by entrenched interests often stifles the growth of more ambitious and transformative initiatives.
We need a clear vision, strategic focus, and targeted development in key areas like funding, infrastructure, and collaboration. YerevaNN is committed to leading this mission by advocating innovation, fostering joint work, and pursuing a future where Armenian talent and ingenuity can thrive and contribute globally.
Torontohye: Speaking of YerevaNN’s mission to foster innovation and global collaboration, how would you compare the tech scenes in Toronto and Yerevan? Are there opportunities for Armenian tech professionals abroad to connect more closely with the industry in Armenia?
Guevorguian: The contrasts are evident: Canada offers a vast talent pool, robust infrastructure, and access to an immense network of investors. By comparison, Armenia’s tech scene is still developing, with smaller teams, fewer resources, and infrastructure limitations. These challenges create unique opportunities for impactful contributions from the diaspora. In Canada’s ecosystem, large-scale ventures and established firms dominate. Armenia is much more agile, with a smaller but incredibly tight-knit community of innovators. These elements facilitate deeper collaborations and faster feedback loops. One person really can have an outsized impact on the trajectory of a startup or tech initiative, providing they are willing to
put in the work.
Armenia’s challenges, such as limited funding and infrastructure gaps, are more acute because of the country’s smaller market size. For example, while the internet infrastructure is improving, rural areas still face connectivity issues that limit access to educational resources or the ability to scale tech ventures. This contrasts sharply with Canada, where high-speed internet is ubiquitous, and startups can rely on a high-functioning infrastructure to fuel their growth.
In Armenia, programs like FAST (Foundation for Armenian Science and Technology), TUMO Labs, and UATE (Union of Advanced Technology Enterprises) are actively building the next generation of tech professionals. These platforms provide tangible opportunities for diaspora Armenians to make a difference by funding earlystage startups, mentoring talent through various programs, or offering expertise in AI, biotech, or robotics. Through networks like Gituzh and collaborative international partnerships, diaspora Armenians can share knowledge, coauthor research, or support local tech companies without needing to be on the ground in Armenia.
Right now is an especially pivotal time for Armenia’s tech scene. The rapid growth of the sector, paired with its smaller scale, means that contributions from diaspora Armenians can be disproportionately impactful.
If you’re a diaspora professional considering how to get involved, start by connecting with established organizations like Gituzh, TUMO Labs, FAST, or UATE. Additionally, look into funding opportunities, as even modest investments can catalyze significant advancements in emerging sectors. Whether you’re interested in mentorship, investment, or collaboration, the programs I mention in my following response provide alternative and more general entry points for connecting to the community.
Torontohye: Building on the role of diaspora contributions and the potential impact of even modest investments, what advice would you give young Armenians in the diaspora considering moving to Armenia to work in tech?
Guevorguian: For those considering moving to Armenia to work in tech, the best advice is to do it your way. I’m prioritizing this because, in moving to Armenia and living here, you will receive a lot of advice about how you should live, where your focus should be, and with what attitude you should approach things. In addition to that, I’m confident
that some fraction of the readership already has ideas and motivations regarding repatriation. I advise you first to understand your motivations, your relationship with the country, and what you want to achieve. Then, take action based on those conclusions.
Torontohye: Are there specific resources, programs, or communities you’d recommend they look into to help them make the transition?
Guevorguian: A few organizations make good starting points for connecting with local resources and communities.
Birthright Armenia, Armenian Volunteer Corps (AVC), and Repat Armenia offer structured programs that help integrate diasporans. They provide classes and guides and can get you a free lawyer consultation. The Office of the High Commissioner for Diaspora Affairs provides practical support through its Repatriation and Integration Centre. They assist with essential logistics like residency, citizenship, and healthcare and organize events and programs like iGorts and Step Toward Home. Neruzh may be of particular interest to those interested in entrepreneurship.
The Armenian tech scene is community and collaboration, so once you’re connected in some way, reach out to colleagues and peers for guidance. The community-minded approach will make the transition smoother and more rewarding if you apply it.
If anyone reading is interested in a more comprehensive and detailed account of the topics I discussed or wants to become directly involved with machine learning research work in Armenia or deep-tech in general, they can contact me at philipp@yerevann. com.
Torontohye: Thanks for sharing your story, Philipp. Wishing you all the best with your work at YerevaNN and beyond! ֎
արձանագրութեան։ Երբ Սօսէն ճիւտոյի մարզումներէն կ’անցնի զինուորական պատրաստութեան, կամ երբ Սվետայի
հեռաձայնի զանգերը իր զաւակներուն անպատասխան կը մնան Ստեփանակերտի
ընթացքին, պատերազմի
The 15th of every month is the deadline for submitting your newspaper articles, advertisements, classified ads, announcements, or obituaries. Make sure to send in your submissions to info@torontohye.ca before the deadline to ensure they are included in the upcoming edition. Don’t miss out on the opportunity to share your message with the community!
մը իր
ծննդավայր Հայաստան վերադառնալով
կը գործէ մեր հայրենիքի զարգացման ի
նպաստ:
Շնորհակալութիւն այս հարցազրոյցին
համար, որ լաւապէս կը ներկայացնէ թէ
ինչպէս սփիւռքահայ երիտասարդութիւնը
կրնայ դրական փոփոխութիւն բերել մեր
հայրենիքին:
Արեւիկին յառաջադէմ մտածելակերպը
եւ հետաքրքրական նախաձեռնութիւնները,
ինչպէս՝ Lemonade Fashion-ն ու «Լայն»-ը, ցոյց կու տան, թէ Հայաստանի զարգացման
համար որքան կարեւոր են սփիւռքահայ
երիտասարդներու
Asking Victoria Rowe et al. What does it take to research Armenian studies?
By Sophia Alexanian
Dr. Victoria Rowe is a PhD graduate from the University of Toronto (UofT). Her dissertation entitled “The ‘New Armenian Woman:’ Armenian Women’s Writing in the Ottoman Empire, 1880-1915” was published in 2000 and is still available online via UofT’s virtual TSpace library. I connected with Rowe over two decades after her dissertation was published. The story of how I came to find her can be found in Torontohye’s Dec. 2024 issue.
As her name suggests, Rowe does not have a personal connection to Armenian identity or culture. Growing up in a multicultural city like Toronto fostered her interest in languages and culture. When she began her studies at UofT, she took a wide variety of courses on world history, languages, and literature; later, she chose to focus on studying Middle Eastern literature. Her specific interest in Armenian women’s writing sprung out of a chance encounter. She told me she came across Ara Baliozian’s partial translation of Zabel Yessayan’s autobiography while browsing the bookshelves and was immediately interested. “I think Zabel appealed to me because she was quite different from the other Middle Eastern women I read for my coursework,” she said, explaining why Yessayan’s life story intrigued her. “For example, she didn't come from the upper class, unlike many of the other women writers of her generation, so she wasn't cushioned by wealth and family. She was very independent and was not fully accepted by the male intelligentsia at the time. She took many risks, beginning with her move to Paris to study French and take courses, followed by her political activism.”
knowledge of Armenian and did not read the language when she became interested in Armenian women writers. “I decided to try to learn Armenian on my own,” she told me. “I used a language learning book to study Armenian and eventually found another UofT student who spoke Armenian and gave me some lessons. I then made contact with Professor Kevork Bardakjian at the University of Michigan Armenian program and went on his summer language study to Armenia.”
Rowe’s commitment to learning the language to be able to conduct her research was inspiring. What was also inspiring and interesting was the fact that her visit to Armenia was not a short summer stay–she ended up spending two years in the country, learning the language at Yerevan State University (YSU).
Conducting research in person in Armenia proved to be very beneficial. “It was really in Armenia that I found the texts I needed for my dissertation and later work,” Rowe said. “Professor Bardakjian introduced me to resources at the National Library and the archives in Yerevan.”
However, I knew that Armenia in the late 1990s was far from 2024 for my experiential summer abroad was a place I could comfortably integrate in as an outsider: I was hanging out in techie cafes, talking about data science applications with IT startup professionals, and ordering soy milk matcha tea lattes off the English menu.
More than 30 years after independence, modern Armenia offers conveniences and accommodations that just didn’t exist in the late 1990s. I described this thriving tech scene—full of start-up bros and emerging tech unicorns—to Rowe, who confirmed that my experience was a stark and almost laughable contrast to hers.
“The dissertation I wrote was the book I wanted to read when I first became interested in Zabel,” Rowe told me, explaining that at the time, there wasn’t much information available on Yessayan in English. Rowe was fulfilling a significant research gap through her work, so naturally, I was a bit surprised to learn there wasn’t much institutional support for her research at UofT.
“I got some grants which were awarded due to my work rather than my topic,” Rowe said when asked what type of research support she received from the university. “I was told [researching] Armenian women's literature wasn't a good idea because the [Near and Middle Eastern Civilizations (NMC)] department was focused on the Islamic world.”
While UofT might not have seen the value of Rowe’s work, she did find support from Armenian-Canadian writers. She was in contact with both Ara Baliozian and Lorne Shirinian, who encouraged her work. I was glad to hear there was some support for Rowe during her research since, as you can imagine, a non-Armenian researching an Armenian issue with few English sources in the 1990s and early 2000s was up against some significant barriers beyond just a lack of research support from the university.
One obvious barrier was the language barrier: Rowe did not grow up with
Rowe lived in Armenia from 1998 to 2001, during the first decade after independence from the Soviet Union. This was also the period right after the First Artsakh War when wartime traumas were still fresh. I had heard about this time period through my family’s firsthand experiences during the Մութ
(Cold and dark years) and the years that followed, but I was curious to hear from an outsider’s perspective of Armenia during the 1990s.
“There was still a lot of trauma and shortages of water and gas,” Rowe said, confirming my family’s descriptions of life in the late 1990s. “All the Yerevantsiner (residents of Yerevan) had stories of what they'd lived through, including no electricity, no heat, no water. Several of the people I was acquainted with died relatively young. Only in their 30s or 40s. The war had been so hard on the people there,” she explained.
Hearing a foreigner confirm the challenges of Armenia’s early years of independence was validating. Additionally, Rowe shared insights on freshly postSoviet Armenia through her unique perspective as a foreigner—ones I hadn’t heard before.
“I feel fortunate to have seen Yerevan in ’98 because I had a glimpse of what it was like in the Soviet period. For example, there were no billboards selling products or
advertising, so the city I remember was one of reddish tufa buildings,” Rowe shared as her strongest memory of the city. I cross-referenced this description with my mother’s memories and can confirm that Yerevan in 1998 remained largely untouched by certain aspects of Western consumerism.
This version of Armenia—independent yet still marked by strong Soviet characteristics—was short-lived. When Rowe returned for another visit in 2006, she felt that the city had changed significantly even in just five years. Rowe’s experiences are a special time capsule, collected of a nation in transit from the perspective of a visiting academic.
I asked Rowe if she had any reflections on academic institutions in Armenia. She explained that during her time at YSU, her interactions with the institution were mostly limited to the Armenian language teachers assigned to foreigners learning the language. From her descriptions, it seems there was little pedagogical knowledge at that point in time on how to teach Armenian as a foreign language. Still, she praised the immersion methods of one teacher, Sofia, who she described as “a really gifted teacher.” “We communicated solely in Armenian, which was great for our learning, and she managed to teach us a great deal,” she remembered.
It’s impressive how Victoria Rowe went from someone with no knowledge of Armenian studies to authoring one of the most accessible—and popularly cited— English language works on Armenian women writers in such a short period of time. While Rowe is happy that her work remains relevant to women and useful to the realm of Armenian studies, she humbly downplays her personal contributions.
“I don't feel proprietorial about the work or the topic,” she shares. “I like to think of it out there with its own life doing things I hadn't imagined. For example, a few months ago I got a request to use some text from the translation of Shushanik Kurghinian's work I did in conjunction with other women for an installation in L.A.”
Despite the value of her research, Rowe eventually left academia. When I asked her why she left, she kept her personal journey private but acknowledged that a lack of institutional support drives many scholars of Armenian studies away: “As far as I know, there is still no Armenian studies program in Canada, so even if a person does all the work there is no job there. The only option is the U.S., where too many scholars compete for too few positions.”
By this point, my conversation with Rowe had scope-creeped past her dissertation and into the broader issue of Armenian studies in academia. I went back to some of the people I had reached out to earlier in my search to find her for broader insights.
I asked Dr. Khatchig Mouradian, a professor at Columbia University and Armenian and Georgian Area Specialist in the African and Middle Eastern Division at the Library of Congress, if he had any insights about the limited offerings of Armenian courses in North American university institutions. His reply seemed to outline similar concerns about post-grad prospects as Rowe’s concerns: “The number of students interested in pursuing an Armenian studies career, the number of university programs preparing for that career path, and the number of well-paying jobs available in Armenian studies are interdependent,” he explained. “Criticisms–and interventions–that are not mindful of the interaction between the three will have limited success.”
universities, and the Humanities in particular,” he says. “Still, it is better positioned than many other ethnic studies fields, so I hesitate to make blanket statements about success or failure or whether these programs are sufficient to meet demand.”
It’s important to note that Mouradian teaches in the U.S., where several Armenian studies programs and course offerings exist. In Canada, as mentioned, there are none. I can only look on with envy as a friend at the University of Michigan considers whether or not to take MIDEAST222: “From Kim Kardashian to Movses Khorenatsi: Deciphering the Armenian Experience.”
Mouradian continues to advocate for the expansion of Armenian studies, stating: “There is no question that Armenian studies could benefit from more chairs and university programs, but only if they are positioned to embrace the transformations that AI will be introducing to scholarship and education in the coming years. Community organizations and donors should invest more in academic endeavors at the intersection of the Humanities and AI. Otherwise, the field of Armenian Studies risks being left behind.”
Does this mean that we Toronto Armenians should push for a “Machine learning and data science applications in Armenian studies” course at UofT? There is no certain answer for what may be best for our community’s strategy, but I am personally more interested in a cross-disciplinary course than a standard history course.
When I brought my questions about Armenian course offerings back to the NMC, I got a much more straightforward answer on how to expand Armenian programming in universities. Dr. Victor Ostapchuk, a professor at the NMC specializing in Ottoman and Turkish studies, said having Armenian studies represented at UofT would be beneficial, but “it would require broader departmental support. Fundraising efforts by the Armenian community could be a potential avenue.”
In the mid-2000s, efforts were made to offer Armenian courses at UofT–Torontohye’s own editor, Rupen Janbazian, even took the few courses that were offered before they were cancelled due to lack of interest. No one I contacted at the NMC recalled whether those courses had been offered or had any insight into why efforts to sustain them were abandoned.
Mouradian takes a different approach from Rowe, linking the challenges in Armenian studies to broader trends in North American academia. “Armenian studies is not immune from the crisis facing
Dr. Ostapchuk and other professors did not recall Victoria Rowe’s time at the NMC or her thesis, but they did draw attention to a curious detail: Rowe’s dissertation does not include any acknowledgments. There is no mention of even her supervisor, Dr. Rivanne Sandlers. This is yet another way in which her research remains untraceable to the woman and people behind it.
While Victoria Rowe’s personal insights on researching Armenian studies are compelling, this story is ultimately not about her. It is about the processes and support systems required to produce research that highlights Armenian history and intellectual contributions. Centering the experiences of women who were both marginalized and members of ethnic minorities is an uphill battle, but it is ultimately worth it to ensure young women see themselves represented in history books.
When asked what inspiration young Armenian women can draw from the writers she highlighted, Victoria Rowe said: “Knowing of their existence and their struggles—none of those women writers had easy lives or were really welcomed in their chosen paths—means you're not alone.”
Armenian women should be encouraged to remain resilient in the face of challenges.
Passport issued to Zabel Yesayan by the First Republic of Armenia in 1919, signed by Avetis Aharonian, and housed in the Zabel Yesayan Archives at the Charents Museum of Art and Literature, Yerevan.
Լենային հայկական խոհանոցը [vegan]
Հորիզոնական
3. (ածական) ոչ յոգնակի, հատ մը, բացառիկ
Խաչ-բառ
4. (ածական) զարմանքի արժանի, սխրալի, անըմբռնելի
6. (անուն) արձակագիր, համալսարանի դասախօս, հանրային գործիչ,
11. (գոյ.) ժամացոյց նորոգող կամ շինող
13. (գոյ.) լսողութեան
14. (անուն) Քալիֆորնիոյ
16. (գոյ.) մեռել
17. (անուն) տարածքի
1.
2.
5.
7. (անուն) Գեղամայ
գագաթը
8. (անուն) հայ մեծանուն ֆիլմի բեմադրիչ, «Նռան գոյն»-ի հեղինակ. Սերգէյ _________
9. (բայ) զարնել (սիրտի), տրոփել
10. (ածական, գոյ.) ապստամբ, անհնազանդ, հեստ
12. (գոյ.) պզտիկ գիրք
15. (գոյ.) արքայ, գահակալ
18. (գոյ.) իւղային նիւթով պատրաստուած ներկ
Crossword
Junior problem
In a regular polygon, a diagonal is a line segment joining a vertex to any non-neighbouring vertex. How many diagonals are in a regular hexagon?
Senior problem
Aris enjoys three types of fruit: apples, bananas, and pears. He wants to eat one small piece from each, in a different order each time. In how many distinct ways can he do this?
Armen’s Math Corner (20th anniversary!)
Canadian Armenian Private Garden Section
In Tribute to Armenia, as symbolized by Holy Mt. Ararat, and to the Armenian people who were the first to embrace and adopt Christianity as a State religion in 301, and the first nation to be crucified in 19151923 falling victim to the first genocide of the 20th century. For the glory of a reborn free Armenia world-wide, whose generations of sons and daughters continue to believe in justice world-wide.
Group of Cemeteries For Your Personalized Appointment
