One Evening, One Hundred Years
Last night's concert to mark the centenary of the Melkonian Educational Institute was beautifully organised and undoubtedly a success.
Hundreds attended. Alumni travelled from around the world. For one evening, the Melkonian campus came alive once again with music, memories and familiar faces. It was patriotic, nostalgic and uplifting.
Congratulations are due to the organisers, the choir and everyone who worked behind the scenes. They succeeded in creating an evening that honoured Melkonian with dignity and warmth, bringing together generations of alumni and friends to celebrate a truly remarkable institution.
For a few hours, the buildings regained their purpose. Alumni walked the grounds where they had once studied.
It was a celebration of music.
A celebration of culture.
A celebration of Armenianness.
A celebration of a remarkable legacy.
And above all, a celebration of the endurance of our people and the identity they have carried across generations.
As someone who is not a Melkonian alumnus, I cannot claim the same personal attachment that so many former students understandably feel. My appreciation of Melkonian is different. I see it as one of the greatest educational institutions the Armenian Diaspora ever built. Institutions such as Melkonian do more than educate. They preserve memory, transmit culture and help shape identity across generations.
Yet, as the lights went out and the gates closed once more, reality returned.
The closure of Melkonian in 2005, and any decision regarding its future, has never rested in the hands of the Armenian community, its communal leadership, its alumni, or even governmental authorities. That responsibility has always rested with the Central Board of the AGBU in the United States. As a community, we may remember, commemorate, advocate and hope. But the future of both the institution and the vast estate ultimately rests with those entrusted with their stewardship.
That is not a criticism. It is simply the reality.
Melkonian remains closed. Despite all the emotions, memories and hopes rekindled by last night's celebration, its future remains uncertain.
Perhaps that is the saddest thought of all. Not about the concert, for it achieved exactly what it set out to do, but about the future of a place that once gave so much to our identity.
Antranik Ashdjian
