The Non-Negotiable Human

Posted on October 24, 2026 by thisihumblyspeak

My credo has always been and will always be true to myself. . . to live, think and act according to my own inner values, beliefs, and honest feelings rather than conforming to outside pressures or expectations. My code of conduct, morals and personal ethics stem from family upbringing steeped in both intrinsic science and faith. Thoughts and opinion were a daily reality – interpretations, perceptions, theories built and predictions based on situations and experiences – shaping my own world but never losing sight of humanity. This was the anchor. It meant that despite our internal theories, we did not lose our capacity for empathy, compassion, and real-time connection. It is what sets us apart from the code, algorithms, and logic of machines.

The shift in language to terms like Artificial Superintelligence (ASI) or “superior intelligence” marks a major psychological turning point for humanity. It signals a shift from viewing AI as a simple tool to viewing it as something that could exceed us. However: a digital “brain” that can process trillions of data points in seconds is still fundamentally different from a conscious being that can feel the weight of a shared human experience.

Humans feel grief, joy, love, anger, you name it, we feel it. We feel it biologically and emotionally.  An AI cannot feel. It can analyze data about grief, joy, love, but it does not experience them. It simulates empathy based on patterns. It solves for efficiency and optimization. We, Humans, solve for belonging, meaning, and mutual support which are hardwired into our biology to ensure the continuation of our species. We cannot teach a machine compassion because true compassion requires human vulnerability. Machines cannot suffer, lose, or feel pain; their “understanding” of these concepts remains purely theoretical.

In an era of robotic evolution, we are enchanted by our automaton like creative selves and may rapidly lose sight of our ethical responsibilities, overgeneralize, and rely on statistical rather than moral values. Because destruction is faster and easier than construction, we must exercise greater care. We humans are not inherently destructive, vain, mean-spirited, or entirely materialistic; rather, we want the strongest and most intelligent traits of our nature to be reflected in our creations. To achieve this, we must remain uniquely human especially since we are far better at reading face-to face, real-time social cues and interpreting complex body language than AI models.

As we navigate this turning point, the challenge isn’t just about how smart we make our technology, but how intentionally we protect and keep human agency and empathy at the center of everything we build. Whether we build start-ups, restructure companies and corporations, or fight for global powers, we must always recognize a chain of human accountability and ownership, especially in global geopolitical “competition.” Capability can fast outgrow conscience and that is the danger. But it also can be an opportunity if we redirect our geopolitical “competition” toward technological dominance in resilience and sustenance rather than destruction. Our true advancement lies in engineering systems that secure food supplies, stabilize climates, protect infrastructure, and defend human life rather than optimizing its termination. We must hold ourselves accountable by always providing ethical oversight and final judgment.

In the end, my credo returns to its original purpose: to live, think, and act from my inner values—without surrendering humanity to pressure, speed, or spectacle. As intelligence becomes increasingly automated, our real responsibility must become increasingly human. If we allow efficiency to replace ethics, we will build systems that optimize harm with the same ease they optimize performance. So, the question is not simply whether we can create advanced intelligence. The question is whether we will insist that human empathy, human oversight, and human responsibility remain non-negotiable. Because only humans can carry moral weight. And only humans can decide what intelligence is truly for.

 

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Paper vs. Screen

Posted on August 10, 2026 by thisihumblyspeak

I was abroad, and in my haste, I had forgotten to pack the book my book club had assigned. I was determined to stay in step with the group, so I searched for the English version of our chosen title. I couldn’t find it anywhere. Reluctantly, I turned to the Kindle edition as a practical solution.

It checked all the right boxes: it was affordable, it was portable, and it also had useful features like font customization. If I needed to refer to a quote on a certain page, I could quickly turn to that leaf and easily highlight passages and type in notes or comments on the page. I was convinced. Besides, I had no choice but to purchase the Kindle version of the book.

There I was, on an island surrounded by dense, aromatic pine forests. Rolling hills cascaded down to sheer rocky cliffs, and below it all was a deep, blue sea. I sat beneath a towering tree, leaned against the rough bark of trunk and began to read from my tablet—page after page, chapter after chapter.

As the evening breeze strengthened, the scent of fresh pine filled the air and a hissing, whispering sound moved through the forest. It wasn’t the ordinary rustle of leaves. It was more like a steady hum, a soft sough, a natural living sound that seemed to wrap around me. The rhythmic psithurism of pine leaves rising and falling like a high pitched whisper reminded me that the forest holds a living breathing history, just like a universe of thoughts in the enduring voices found within the leaves of a book.

I lifted my gaze from the Kindle’s cold, clean glow. In that moment, I realized how much I missed the warmth, weight, and texture of a physical book. I miss the feel of a book in my hands: the texture and weight that give it their solid presence, the smell of the process used to print the words, the comforting wear of aged bindings. I love old volumes that have been read and reread—spines that loosen slightly, margins crowded with notes and lines underlined. I always fold corners of pages, and I keep post-it notes ready to capture thoughts the moment they appear. A book becomes a well-worn friend beside me late at night, offering wisdom, laughter, and tears. It’s not something I “return” or forget on a shelf; it’s something I come back to, unlike the digital library of kindle.

What I love about a book is how it molds to fit the contours of my hands as it rests on my lap. For a short while we become one, lost in another world, together. It is not only the story we share, but the way the book feels rooted in the earth. The pages carry a scent of rain, roots, and ancient bark. The words seem to seep into me—staying there—so that my mind returns to them again and again. Perhaps not every exact phrase, but the mood they left behind: a metaphorical fragrance that lingers in my life. Somewhere between the pages, I find a rhythm that mirrors the world outside—a pace that invites stillness, attention, and reflection. To me, reading is a tactile ritual: fluid, grounding, and deeply connected to nature.

Every book, like every forest, has its own sensory fingerprint—distinct smells, textures, and sounds. I think of hands that have flipped those pages before mine: worn and weathered, or crisp and pristine. I wonder whose lives it has touched—who laughed, who cried, who wandered through the landscapes and characters that spark imagination. Books connect me to people I may never meet, authors long gone, voices in languages I don’t understand, and fellow readers who become companions on the journey. That sense of “aliveness” is what makes physical reading so immersive. With paper, everything is embodied—the heft in your hands, the grain of the pages, the way the layout of the text pulls you in and helps you remember. The rustle of turning pages, the distinct scent of paper and ink, and the deliberate rhythm of moving through chapters breathing between the pages create a grounded, ritual feeling that a digital screen can’t fully imitate.

In the dim light of the setting sun, I adjusted the brightness on my tablet and kept reading—continuing, for now, to let the digital words carry me forward.

Okay… I’ll give the screen’s blue light an additional check mark!

Posted in nature, technology, Uncategorized | 2 Comments

Mama, I Carry You With Me

Posted on May 10, 2026 by thisihumblyspeak

Mother’s Day arrives with flowers blooming in shop windows, cards tucked into tissue, and boxes of chocolates peeking from gift bags. The stores buzz with fathers and children choosing presents, cafes hum with families savoring a rare day off from the kitchen, and diners spill with laughter and long conversations about the women who raised them. It’s a day for honoring the quiet, enduring force of mothers—their patience, their steady hands, their unspoken courage.

I think of my own mother, who is no longer in this world, and I feel the weight and warmth of her influence all at once. Every syllable of every word she spoke—whether scolding or lavish with praise—carried tenderness, care, and nurturing. She taught me that strength and beauty can reside in the same breath, that depth of love can be measured not by grand declarations but by the small, ordinary acts that keep a life moving forward. Her guidance shaped my present and carved a path into the future, leaving an indelible mark on my heart and soul, a mark I carry into how I raise my own children.

She showed me that motherhood is a testament to the unyielding resilience of the human spirit. She worried about big things and small things, about the controllable and the uncontrollable, and she would often remind me that certain feelings can only be understood when you’ve walked in another person’s shoes—perhaps especially in a parent’s shoes. “You couldn’t have possibly understood these feelings until you become a mother or a parent yourself,” she would say, letting her words wash over me with warmth and truth. “There are moments of pure joy in motherhood,” she would add, “moments that make all the worry seem small. It’s impossible to fully explain—the experience is something you simply live, and in living it, you discover its paradox: hardship and grace entwined.”

From her, I learned to live a life of service. She devoted sixty years to volunteering for a foundation that served the less fortunate and the ill. She leaned on her nursing degree and her social-work heart, weaving care into every day she spent with others. When I was thirteen, I began volunteering in hospitals, following her example, learning that giving your time can be a form of love as powerful as any other. Today, volunteering remains my guiding mantra—a way to honor the way she lived, and the way she taught me to see the world: with hands that reach out, a heart that stays open, and a commitment to the well-being of others.

I miss her presence, yes, in the quiet corners of everyday life—the way a familiar voice can calm a storm, the memory of a comforting touch, the insight that always pointed me back to what matters. But I also feel her not as a distant memory, but as a living force in the choices I make and the way I show up for my own children and for my community. The love of a mother isn’t confined to the day on the calendar; it travels with us in every act of care, every moment of patience, every sacrifice made for the little good that slowly shapes a life.

So on this Mother’s Day, I celebrate all mothers—the ones who still cradle us with their wisdom, the ones who are no longer with us but whose influence remains, and the ones who balance the daily demands of life with a heart that never stops giving. Their strength, their tenderness, their unwavering faith in the humanity of others—these are the gifts that keep a world turning. To the mothers who have shaped us and continue to shape us, to the mothers we are becoming, Thank you for carrying us, for lifting us, for teaching us how to love. And to the memory of my own mother: I miss you, I honor you, and I carry you with me in all that I strive to be.

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It Was Never Yours

Posted on April 24, 2026 by thisihumblyspeak
Of course you will. 

Destroy our homes, our sacred places of worship,
Our cemeteries, our crops, the land that gave life and bread to us
for centuries.

Steal our knowledge, denounce our rights, burn down our
trees and appropriate our goods.
Belittle our pain, ignore our tears, separate us from loved
ones, and objectify our bodies.

Take our blood for granted, and shatter our dreams.
Accuse us of fabrication, falsify our origins,  subjugate our country,
And rob us of our peace with your hollowed soul.

You can indeed ruin it all,
For only those who hold no rights to the land
and its tendrils of memory,
Who have not tasted petrichor at the first kiss of rain,
Who have not buried their dead, or prayed to their God,
Who have not tilled the soil and sweat its labor,
Who have not crushed the grapes to birth the oldest nectar,
the vineyards’ wine that lingers in the throat of history.

For only those who have not learned to carve beauty from tufa stone,
To lay brick upon brick and raise sanctuaries
That echo the liturgy of our past and living breath
Or to lay loved ones beneath tombstone crosses.

Of course you can destroy it all.
For you have never owned or lived the land as we have.

Had you borne any history on this soil you desecrated,
Had you truly lived upon it, nurtured by the soil and watered by your own labor,
you would treasure it, not ruin it.

Had you known the toil of this land, you would guard it as your lifeblood,
not uproot the very vineyards and trees that fed you.

Had you belonged to this land, you would cherish it, not raze to the ground
that which you bled for.

Had you been connected to this land and laid to rest its dead,
you would not despoil the tombstones.

Had you truly built what was sacred on this soil,
you would not tear it down and lay it waste.

But you did.
Because it was never yours to know, to feel, to live, to love.

It was never yours.

(To the memory of martyred souls and Artsakh
April 24, 2026)

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The Է (EH) of Our Identity: A Call for Unity, Dignity, and Hope

Posted on December 29, 2025 by thisihumblyspeak

In the heart of Armenian life, a single letter does more than shape words. It bears a layered symbolism that links language, faith, and identity. The seventh letter of the Armenian alphabet, Է (pronounced “EH”), carries a weight that far surpasses ordinal placement. In Armenian churches and homes, it is a living emblem—one that helps define who we are. It sustains in it our daily practice of language, family rituals, community service, and church attendance. With its numerical value of 7, Է EH is rooted in concepts of completion, wholeness and perfection, as the symbol of God’s presence– a simple affirmation that says “it is.”   Է EH functions as the verb to be. It anchors existence reminding  us that belonging comes from lived faith and shared traditions, not just a map of where we’re from. 

The Armenian Church, in its sacred spaces and liturgical life, is understood as a meeting place between God and humanity. It is where history and eternity intersect—where the prayers of ancestors become the present-tense prayers of the faithful. Է EH as the emblem of God’s breath and existence, sits at the crossroad of temporal and eternal, human memory and divine presence. It marks a continuity of faith: from ancient pre-Christian associations through the transformative Christian proclamation, and into modern Armenian life.

The Armenian heritage—inscribed in history, art, and daily life—invites both pride and humility. Pride in the endurance of faith through times of persecution and upheaval; humility in recognizing that the journey of faith is ongoing, personal, and communal. It is the symbol of God’s presence that challenges each generation to honor ancestors’ sacrifices by cultivating truth, justice, and compassion in the present.

The letter Է EH illustrates how language can sustain national memory and spiritual life in a way that resonates beyond borders. It’s a reminder that culture is lived in everyday practices as much as in history books. Armenia’s history is interwoven with glorious moments, but it is also marked with deep generational wounds that are slow to heal. Historically, Armenian church and state have shared complex entanglements, shaped by empires, wars, and nation-building. These wounds have causes that transcend borders and are intertwined with various social, cultural, and political dynamics. Our wounds often reflect unintentional shortcomings and moments when we fail to live up to our ideals. And sometimes, we intentionally cross boundaries, feel betrayed, lose trust, become vulgar or avenge and attack with total loss of dignity. What we lack today is a healthy balance between church and state—essential for freedom of conscience and religious practice. The ideal stance—one of separation in governance while preserving mutual respect and collaboration in moral and social life—supports the integrity of religious practice and the autonomy of spiritual communities. In modern contexts, this balance helps ensure that sacred spaces remain sanctuaries for devotion, reflection, and communal healing, rather than instruments of political power.

Acknowledging that these times are challenging, and that people are struggling, I stand without taking sides or entering divisive specifics. I belong to the same community and nation and share fundamental human experiences and needs. As an Armenian, I know that our strength lies not in triumph over others but in the dignity we accord to every person—especially in disagreement. A return to a more civil society begins with how we speak, listen, and treat one another. Let us advocate for every individual to be met with dignity and respect, even in disagreement, so that our public life can heal and rise toward what is right, not merely what wins.

 If a nation can hold fast to these commitments — practice compassion in every act, support for the vulnerable, just governance, honest conversation, and inclusive community life — it may move toward a more unified and supportive future—one that prioritizes shared humanity and common good over partisan victory.

 Է EH invites everyone to consider how faith informs their choices, how they treat others, and how they nurture their communities. At its very core, Christmas and the Epiphany we revere is a celebration of unity and compassion. It beckons us to transcend borders, cultures, and other perceived differences, and to embrace the shared humanity that binds us all. In the midst of global conflicts, the Christmas spirit becomes a universal call for unity, urging us to set aside grievances and focus on the common threads that bind us together. Clearly, we live in a world that is ravaged with conflict. One would be hard-pressed to find a corner of our world that is not currently marked by discord and strife. Nonetheless, this season serves as a poignant reminder of the transformative power of peace, unity, and goodwill. As the festive lights twinkle within our cities and at the Republic Square of the motherland and the sounds of carols fill the air, the Christmas spirit becomes a beacon, encouraging us to pause, reflect, and collectively foster an atmosphere of tranquility during times of heated conflicts around the globe.

May the Է EH inspire us to re-knit the fabric of our community with threads of reverence, service, and empathy. May this season renew our hope that Armenian history, faith, and culture can serve not as a battleground for division but as a wellspring for renewal—bringing us closer to one another and closer to the higher ideals we profess.

In that spirit, let us honor the letter that has long anchored our language and our hearts. Let Է EH guide us to speak with truth, act with mercy, and live with purpose. Let the chorus of our shared humanity outshine disputes; let the Christmas light of the north remind us that unity, courage, and care are within reach when we choose to put people before points, and right before victory.

Happy New Year and a joyful Epiphany!

Posted in christmas, civility, faith, seventh letter | Tagged , , , , | 3 Comments

Solidarity Is Owed

Posted on July 31, 2025 by thisihumblyspeak

Recently I mentioned to a colleague that I participated in a couple of marches in solidarity with fellow humans who were quietly bringing awareness to the deliberate killings and grave breaches of international humanitarian law in Gaza. My colleague was unnerved. “You should be careful. You could be identified. It could lead to potential consequences, and besides, we have our own fight for justice, why bother with others,” she said. I was mortified.

Yes, as Armenians, we have suffered and continue to feel the salt on our wounds with the unfinished business of seeking justice for a genocide denied by Turkey and an acknowledgment of endless violations of international humanitarian crimes against Armenians by the Azeri perpetrators, but, does that mean we cannot shoulder the burden of others while seeking our needs?

The atrocities in Gaza present an urgent moral crossroads especially for Armenians who have suffered genocide without retribution and who claim every year to commemorate our loss of 1.5 million Armenians with the mantra of “Genocide, Never Again.” How can we remain silent and not speak up as we bear witness to the annihilation of the Palestinian population in Gaza? Is our outcry of “Genocide Never Again” solely for our own appeasement? And why must we stop there? Why not continue to raise our voices in allegiance with people who suffer the same irreversible consequences of inhumanity whether in our communities or elsewhere?  Show our faces for all those who are being mercilessly desecrated of human life and dignity. Put aside tribalism and act in defense of our common humanity. Is the aggression that has transformed Gaza into a landscape of desolation, with over 60,000 deaths of which 70 percent continue to be women and children and thousands displaced not part of our shared humanity? Do we not identify with the carnage? Did we not feel the reality of our own plight over these recent years with the blockade of humanitarian aid that cut off food, water and medicine for months, inducing starvation, dehydration, and disease? We said the world is watching. We took to the ICC our documentation of genocide patterns perpetrated by the Azeris for war crimes and crimes against humanity to awaken the conscience and ensure accountability for perpetrators, albeit without much success. Impunity still prevails. Yet we forge ahead, and rightfully so, vigilant to preserve the aspects of our humanity that truly matter. Imagine how much more valid our advocacy for justice, for universal justice, would be if we did not just tut-tut in empathy but shared our empathy by offering our support, and courageously acknowledging the struggle of others with our presence and our voices.

To be true to ourselves, we cannot have ethical inconsistencies of championing our own plight for justice and recognition while ignoring or even dismissing the struggles of others facing similar injustices. We live in diverse societies where selective empathy (or even selective outrage at the perpetrators) can only lead to social fragmentation and resentment.

My contention is that solidarity is owed to those who suffer inequitable treatment, when they are engaged in a struggle against those who treat them with abhorrent inhumanity. Their struggle is partly my own. It resonates within me and although my allegiance is with “my” people, I am compelled and obliged to belong, to defend and represent the tens of thousands of victims of this iniquitous war. I believe in giving those victims my voice and standing alongside them, on their terms, when they struggle against their oppressors.

As a people who have endured a history of pain due to injustice, discrimination or lack of acknowledgement by oppressors, it is crucial that we Armenians stand with courage, true to ourselves to preserve the aspects of our humanity that truly matter.

Empathy, genuine connection to others, emotional depth, and introspection—they matter. They are the pillars of our humanity that support our collective soul, and it is up to each of us to ensure they do not crumble beneath the weight of our modern world. The onus is on us.

So, to those who, like my dear colleague, wash their hands from taking part in the other man’s plight, I say, “Even if or when you lose, solidarity is owed to others not as a form of charity or generosity, but as a duty, as a basic justness. Lean in to your own humanity.”

Posted in accountability, Duty and honor, genocide, humanity, justice | Tagged , , , , , , | 2 Comments

We’ll Do Us

Posted on July 9, 2025 by thisihumblyspeak

On my way into a grocery store, I observed a mother and her early teen child walking together. The teen, head down and eyes glued to her phone, bumped into another woman without offering any apology or acknowledgment. The mother had no reproach either. The woman was left stunned and speechless. I gently told the young child that she might want to pay attention to where she’s going to avoid accidents. Without even looking up from her phone, she responded, “You do you and I’ll do me.” Her words reflected a disturbing shift in our values—highlighting that we have largely lost the virtues of respect and consideration for others. Instead, our behavior is increasingly driven by superficial aesthetics of arrogance ( mistaken for confidence ) and a sense of self-centered autonomy,  rather than ethical principles of right and wrong.

We need to reshape our culture by being willing to sacrifice some individual autonomy for the greater good of our community. Without integrating moral education alongside fields that are more aggressively sought after in today’s world such as technical and career training, we risk losing the shared values and principles that underpin a well-functioning society. If we continue to fail to do so the distinction between a person of good character and one without moral grounding will disappear.

Regrettably, I don’t see this change happening anytime soon unless parents and leaders actively foster a civic code of decency. As society drifts away from civility, we face increasingly difficult times ahead. Research shows that incivility fosters violence, weakens communities, and leads to societal paralysis caused by conflict and political division.  We need not look too far to see this happening.

Have we regressed to a time reminiscent of the Enlightenment—disenchanted with the value of reason and religion? In other words, are people now free to create their own values? This shift effectively replaces community and the common good with individual autonomy. While capitalism continues to flourish, the emphasis on personal self-determination often overshadows shared moral principles, diluting our collective understanding of right and wrong. With Friedrich Nietzsche’s declaration that “God is dead,” signaling the decline of religious influence on morality, society experienced a significant cultural and intellectual transformation. Decades later, autonomous figures like Lenin, Mao, and Hitler emerged, promising to create a “better,” “purer,” or “pioneering” world—though often at great human cost.

But how do individuals decide what is right if they are no longer anchored in a stable moral order? Without a moral framework, and in the absence of shared standards, manipulation and coercion become the tools to influence behavior of the masses. Advertisers, demagogues, and influencers exploit this vulnerability, especially in a fragmented society where the sense of the common good is weak. Consequently, people often end up wanting what these manipulators promote, simply to fulfill their own desires.

I firmly believe that the strength and integrity of a nation depend on a solid foundation rooted in our homes. Civility, after all, embodies a long-standing tradition of moral virtues essential to democracy—such as empathy, humility, integrity, honesty, and respect for others. These virtues are the moral glue that holds society together. Without civility—rooted in virtues — our communities risk devolving into hostile, accusatory, and offensive exchanges, as we see in these tumultuous times in our own backyards and The District.

Civility is a powerful force capable of uniting people and fostering international brotherhood despite differences in beliefs. While current leadership to whom we should all be looking up neglects and devalues the language of morality and threatens societal stability, we can choose to rise above our impulses and act differently. We can work to restore the civility we were once taught—starting with a simple yet profound step— looking in the mirror, recognizing right from wrong and standing with dignity without pointing fingers. We can restore the civility that once strengthened our communities. We can restore the language of virtues and live up to standards of excellence. In the language of that teen child,  We’ll do Us.

Posted in civility, parent, values | Tagged , , , , , | 2 Comments

Memories Weave a Tapestry

Posted on April 24, 2025 by thisihumblyspeak

(To the memory of martyred Armenians and the ongoing persecution of ethnic Armenians.)

Shadows drift, the night descends,
I hear the echoes of recent wounds
Seep through weathered stone of centuries
And at dawn’s first light,
The highland winds their faint whispers ascend
Carrying fragmented dreams
In vibrant hues of pomegranate, plum and apricot.

In broken pieces,
Memories weave the tapestry of a culture
Embroidered in our souls where hope ignites
A spark, that cuts through endless nights.
The silence roars, a distant cry,
For those we loved, who said goodbye.
Yet from the ache, a courage blooms
To face the dark,
a strength takes hold to clear the gloom.

The shadow ghost may hover, soft and near,
Reminding us of Hope’s small candle
burning clear and sincere to faith’s glow.
With steady hearts to forge ahead
To uphold the fight lurking in our veins,
To mend the wounds, to heal the dread.

We build anew, with cautious hand,
To heal the scars within the land.
We weave the tapestry of our past
Determined to redeem on canvas our story told
Never forgetting from where we’ve come, where we’ve been
And the beauty of a future brave to be seen.

(tapestry by Meruzhan Khachatryn: Symbol of Armenian Culture)
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Vote From Your High Place

Posted on November 4, 2024 by thisihumblyspeak

I have always been taught to be aware of the urge to erect high places in my life that risk opening the door to base qualities which lets darkness in. Life is all about the wonderful boundless gift of Grace. And being given Grace is not a license to do whatever we want. Grace is an act of love. And we must strive to be walking more on the path of Grace as each day passes.

VOTE! If you haven’t already done so, VOTE NOW! VOTE from your high place. Vote from that high place where integrity, compassion and thought for your neighbor was the compass facing north…where you were taught to…”Do unto others as you’d have done to you.” The future depends on us holding world leaders accountable for building a more just and equitable world, where empathy and dignity rule above all. What is your high place? It’s time to step up and take action and Make your voice count! VOTE!

May we find ourselves living in a world where the unchangeable virtues remain in our high places…by the Grace given us.

Posted in accountability | Tagged | 1 Comment

For the Girl Child: Speak Your Voice

Posted on October 11, 2024 by thisihumblyspeak

Today, Oct. 11 is International Day of the Girl as adopted by the United Nations General Assembly in 2011, to recognize the rights of girls and the unique challenges they face around the world. This year’s theme “Girls’ Vision for the Future” conveys hope that the dreams of girls and young adolecents can lead to an unlimited future if we listen and invest in them. It is a proven factor that “when girls/women lead, the impact is immediate and wide reaching:families, communities and economies are all stronger, and our future brighter.” But what of the disproportioned number of girls whose dreams are shattered and voices buried in the trauma of conflict? Who will listen to them?

Here I am, one girl, turned woman who cannot remain silent.
I cannot remain silent as the war between Israel and Hamas continues to escalate with Lebanon being drawn into the conflict. There is no end in sight. The best I can do is to reaffirm my conviction in a world of peace and justice, where all people—especially women and children—are safe and free from violence.
Many of our sisters have experienced the daily horrors of this war and its profound generational impact on the lives of women, children, and the vulnerable. The violence, torture, and oppression does not serve humanity. They give rise to nightmares that should plague our consciences with screams of inconsolable mothers holding their children, maimed and mutilated by our weapons. I call on all involved in this war to impose a cease fire on warring parties to ensure that women, children, girls, the most vulnerable, and those providing humanitarian aid in war zones are protected from violence against them.
For decades, organizations across the globe and including the Armenian International Women’s Association (AIWA) https://aiwainternational.org have worked tirelessly to uplift women and children, promote their rights, embrace difference and diversity, and improve quality of life, no matter who they are or where they reside—even in the face of war.

I will continue to condemn—in the strongest possible terms—any action that violates essential human rights, especially for those who have lost their voice. I reaffirm my commitment to peace, justice, and the protection of human rights for all. I strongly believe in the necessity of dialogue, mutual respect, and nonviolence as the pathways to resolving deep-seated conflicts.
I call on the international community, including governments, and civil society to work towards lasting peace and justice in the region, rooted in the dignity and security of all people – regardless of nationality, religion, or ethnicity. I call on all involved in this war to impose a cease fire on warring parties by simply stopping arms shipments and participating in an international arms embargo on ALL armed groups involved.
I remain dedicated to advocating for an end to violence, supporting humanitarian efforts, and amplifying the voices of women, girls and marginalized communities who are disproportionately affected by war and conflict.

I continue to believe in a world where justice, equity, and peace are not just aspirations, but realities that all people can experience. I commit to standing alongside those who strive for a future free from violence, where human rights and dignity are upheld for every individual. Will you stand alongside me? Will you raise your voices?

For all humanity, for women and children, and for all girls for now and for future generations.

Posted in humanity, peace, war, women | Tagged , , , | 2 Comments