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“I had been a very submissive person since childhood. I was married at 18 and came immediately afterwards [to the United States] from overseas, so everything was new. I relied on my husband all the time because he was the only person I knew in America. Everything around me was new. I had a very simple family life; I was the mom and housewife tending to the needs of the family. I got my driver’s license after my first child was born, and I was very afraid of driving. My husband drove most of the time.”

 

 

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“Ten years into marriage in the summer of 1972, my husband died. I became all alone. It was like a rug was pulled from under me. I had to tend to the needs of my family and maintain their survival on my own. That’s when I felt empowered – it was forced upon me but having to do was my liberation. I had three children under the age of 10; the eldest was 9 and the youngest was 3.”

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“I recall once I had to drive to Queens, and I had headaches as I was driving all the way there and back. I did not know why I had the headaches until afterwards: Somebody told me I must’ve been nervous. And yes, I was! It was my first realization that I had headaches because of my feeling of fear. Acknowledging that fear was my first step toward being comfortable with independence. Things moved quickly after I came to this realization. Going to school and getting my social work degree – that helped me feel more empowered than I could’ve even imagined. My field of work allowed me to be there for those who didn’t have anybody else. And in a sense, I think my kids were there for me when I lost my husband and didn’t have anybody else. Soon, my five siblings came over from Armenia and found comfort in my home. Just as my husband had been my rock, I became theirs. Three children, a house, a degree, and then newly emigrated siblings. But somehow, I didn’t feel overwhelmed. I am very capable now; and as I look around me almost fifty years later, I see people like my granddaughters – who are the same age I was when I came to America – far more liberated and empowered than I ever was at their age.”

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“And with each generation, I hope this continues. I raised my only daughter the same as my sons. I didn’t want her to pity me because I was a young widow. I think that made her stronger – seeing everything her mother did without a man’s help. And defying everyone’s expectations felt good. I saw the way people looked at me – feeling sorry each time I sat alone at my children's school functions or arrived late because they knew I was juggling three children’s schedules along with my own. But I never felt sorry for myself because I knew it would set me back. I was good at tuning that out.”