Post-Interview Thoughts: Lenna

Transcript:

I couldn’t stop thinking about this interview for days after we recorded it. I knew my mother would get emotional, but I was left feeling responsible for dragging those feelings to the surface as I pried deeper and deeper into her identity as a Lebanese immigrant. She’s lived in this country for fifty years, and I admire her for the ways she does not deny her past nor her deep Armenian pride. She’s a modest woman, who doesn’t like to be put on the spot the way she was when I pointed the camera at her that day. The apprehension was strong for sure, but she persisted for her daughter who was born an American away from all of those stories and struggles. I can tell that her life, her pain and anguish and joy that she associates with her culture and birth country, have all made her into the most resilient person I’ve ever known.

Watching her break down but persist through each question was only a small example of this. The breadth of her experiences have never obscured her memory of what life was like in Lebanon, of each meal her mother and grandmother taught her, of the language that ties her back to her family and her heritage, of every little thing she clings onto that make up the woman I know today.

I called my mom to talk to her about how the interview left her feeling––and she answered pretty much how I expected her to: nonchalant, as though it was a normal conversation with her daughter, as though she didn't break down into tears on camera and confront some of her toughest memories. Resilient, calm, ready to talk about the next topic in a life of conversations that come and go.

She's had six decades to contemplate who she is, and I think she's just comfortable in who she is, where she's been, and where she is now. She acknowledges her past, feels it in that moment, but does not let it hold her back or bring her down for more than a moment. I honestly don't know how she does it. I only hope to inherit that same resiliency.