When I first met Nancy Bartekian, the idea for her anti-colonial, transnational collective SWANA Chicago was in its infancy. In the wake of the 2020 Artsakh War, she had noticed a lack of solidarity between Armenians and other groups in the SWANA (SouthWest Asia and North Afrika) region. Building on her work as a Palestinian-Armenian activist and organizer, she decided to work on creating that solidarity.

After joining SWANA Chicago at an action against the attacks on Sheikh Jarrah, I sat down with Nancy to talk more about her organizing and her Armenian-Palestinian identity.

Azad Archives:Tell me a little bit about your connection to Palestinian land.

Nancy Bartekian: My grandfather on my mother’s side and my grandmother on my father’s side are both from Bethlehem. They both left during the Nakba, when my grandpa was four and my grandma was two. My grandpa went to the United Arab Emirates, and my grandma went to Jordan.

My connection to the land is very scarce. I’ve never been there. I would like to visit, but using the privilege of my American passport to travel to Tel Aviv just doesn’t seem right for me. I don’t like to police people, but that is not the way that I like to see it, so I haven’t been able to visit physically. 

My connections are through the stories I hear from my grandparents and other family members. I feel like the struggle is what really connects me. I had a really close friend who told me that Palestinians in diaspora have a right to liberation just as Palestinians on the ground do. Of course, there are privileges in diaspora, but we are all deserving of liberation.

AA: Did you grow up with that struggle or was it something that you came into later in your life?

NB: Honestly, coming to truly understand my identity as a Palestinian did not happen until around two years ago when I really understood my grandparents’ histories.

A lot of our identity was erased when they took refuge in Jordan and elsewhere. Growing up I was just always told that we were Jordanian. I think a lot of it has to do with not wanting to share that trauma.

Everyone processes trauma differently. Some people really pass down that resistance but not everyone does. Sometimes, the grandchildren of survivors have to find their way into their identities. That’s what I did. 

AA: How did you come into that identity?

NB: At first, I definitely didn’t feel welcome or included in the general Arab community. I was always told that I don’t look Arab or that my last name is weird because it’s Armenian. It was through community members and Palestinian organizers that I was able to finally come to terms with myself and with my community of like who I am. I definitely give all that credit to really close friends and peers who pushed me.

AA: Were you able to learn more about your identity through activism and organizing?

NB: Yes, the friends I made through organizing were with me along the way during my discovery and they prompted me to talk to my grandparents.

At first it was hard for me to want to do that because my grandpa and I just never got deep on that level. But when I started asking and just became more comfortable, I was able to learn more about our family history.

AA: How did those conversations go for you?

NB: I have been able to talk to my grandpa. His English is a little bit better than my other family members, and we talk over WhatsApp.

It’s hard to have those conversations because they’re only over text. But I started to ask him questions like, “Where are you from?” ”What languages do you remember learning?” or “What stories do you have to share?” that he’s able to translate back.

With my grandmother, it’s a little bit different. She always tells me, “I’m from Palestine and so are you.” It’s more on the surface with her, but with my grandpa, we do have those deeper conversations. I do try to encourage him because I feel like he’s coming from a more traumatized perspective. He often says, “I want to see Bethlehem again.” or “I wish we would all go together.”

AA: Would you actually visit, or would there need to be different circumstances for you to feel like you could?

NB: I would definitely visit, but I would like to drive with family members from Jordan or elsewhere. If my grandpa said, “Let’s go right now,” I don’t think I would pass up the opportunity.

AA: This conversation was prompted by the attacks on Gaza and other Palestinian communities recently. What did activism look like for you during this time?

NB: That’s a very interesting question because personally, I took a step back. I had to disengage for a little bit, at least on social media.

I wanted to shift my activism from social media to talking with people close to me about these issues that affect me. It’s really easy to just post your thoughts and feelings, and it can be great and very informative, but it’s another thing to talk to your friend and say, “Hey, this is going on in my life and it’s really upsetting.” A lot of white folks I’m friends with just truly don’t understand, so having those conversations with them is really important to me.

I did disengage on social media a lot and I will not feel bad or policed for it. When you’re talking about oppressed communities, it is not their duty to teach the world about their oppression.

Specifically for me, I had just come back from trying to recuperate after trying to get the world to care about the attacks on Artsakh. It really pissed me off being on social media so much and not feeling like anyone cared.

Yes, I do have a privilege as someone in the diaspora and a responsibility to uplift the voices of those on the ground, but I just needed two weeks to just disengage from social media. I feel like that is what my ancestors would want, for me to just feel joy for a few minutes.

AA: Definitely. There’s so much pressure with social media, but activism comes in so many different forms and it’s really important to recognize all of them.

Did you find that people you talked to were open to learning and educating themselves?

NB:trong> Yes and no. There were some Jewish people I knew who told me, “I’m really looking at the things you’re posting and I want to learn,” but then were silent when everything was happening.

Of course, you really don’t know what’s going on in the background. These people could be talking to their family members and trying to do that work; I don’t know.

People who know me personally and hang out with me do definitely ask me if I’m ok, and if there’s anything they can do. But it’s a fine line; on the one hand, it’s good that people want to learn, but on the other hand, it can be exhausting to feel like I have to explain everything again and again.

There are so many good resources online. Recently, especially people have been making good Linktrees. There’s also a site called decolonizing Palestine, which is a really great resource.

It’s so hard to navigate these things, especially while you’re going through this mental trauma. And especially while Azerbaijan is still carrying out attacks and atrocities in Armenia, I feel like I can’t catch a break.