The Armenian genocide was something I had been hearing about from American people’s parents since I was in elementary school. It was often the first thing they brought up: either a carpet they had bought, or, defiantly, “Jim’s brother-in-law is Armenian,” or “Our pediatrician is Greek.” I had never heard any Turkish people say anything bad about Armenians, and I knew how much American people loved to talk about “ethnic hatreds,” so I had always assumed it was just one of their fixations and didn’t reflect anything real. It was a disappointment to learn that such petitions actually existed.
