From Glendale to Yerevan: Redefining My Armenian Identity in “BRT” (Birthright Time)

Thinking back to two months ago, just before I arrived in Armenia, I remember overanalyzing the length of my stay. Whenever I mentioned being here for Birthright for two months, a family member or friend would respond with, “Wow, that’s so long!” That reaction got in my head. I started to believe it too—two months felt daunting. But in reality—or as I now like to say, according to Birthright Timezone or “BRT”—it feels like it’s been three weeks.

That comment stuck with me early on and made me brace myself for a long stretch. But instead, I’ve found myself wishing each day would slow down, trying to feel every moment deeply and stretch out the fleeting magic of it all.

As a diaspora Armenian, my sense of identity was always rooted outside of Armenia, specifically in Glendale, where I was born and raised in a community surrounded by other Armenians. As a child, I assumed this was the norm everywhere—that Armenians were just everywhere. My identity felt deeply tied to a place. But Birthright shifted something fundamental in me. It expanded my understanding of what being Armenian means. It’s no longer just about a location—it’s about a feeling. A connection to real people, real stories, and shared experiences.

There are so many misconceptions and assumptions about life in Armenia, yet so few young people from the diaspora get to challenge them firsthand through Birthright. Volunteering here had long been a personal goal, and finally making it happen filled me with immense joy, even if it also came with a swirl of anxiety, nervousness, and excitement at first. Looking back, I’ve never felt more certain about a decision. Each moment here has become a memory, a highlight, a flash of magic. And while some of the small ones may get lost, we live each day fully—because we know how quickly it passes.

As someone amid many personal transitions as I start graduate school soon, I don’t think I’ve ever created so many meaningful memories outside of a university setting. During my time volunteering with the Children of Armenia Fund and the Fund for Armenian Relief’s Children’s Support Center, I had the chance to learn from psychologists and health service providers, while also working closely with children from different regions of Armenia. Balancing play and purpose, learning from the children while also exploring ways to support their development, has been a deeply eye-opening experience.

Every volunteer here brings their own story, background, and perspective. And somehow, we all arrive at the same place, at the same point in our lives. That synchronicity has been one of the most beautiful and bonding aspects of this journey. Despite only being here for two months, I’ve grown academically, professionally, personally, and culturally. My identities as a student, psychologist, and Armenian diasporan have all been shaped and enriched by my peers, mentors, and friends. I must admit, what’s been most difficult is trying to explain this experience to people back home. It’s hard to articulate just how transformative it’s been. At first, moving here felt like stepping into an alternate reality. Now, I understand—it’s because my experience here has truly altered my reality.

As a collector of words, memories, and moments, I’ve been keeping a log of inside jokes, favorite quotes from friends (especially the most loving and hilarious, Melissa, as seen in the photos), and snapshots from our days together. It’s impossible to capture everything—there’s just too much joy to hold. I’m endlessly grateful to be a volunteer and now a lifelong alum, carrying these memories with me wherever I go in the world. Because we all know: when two Armenians meet, we create a new Armenia