Growing up in Glendale, Calif., being Armenian came naturally for Nune.



Her neighbors were Armenian. Her classmates were Armenian. Even her doctor was Armenian (Fun fact: they shared the same name!).



“In Glendale, there’s an Armenian bakery, an Armenian grocery store on pretty much every block. Even if you don’t speak English, you can get around town just fine just speaking Armenian,” she explains of her hometown.

But when she moved across the country to go to college, Nune would soon realize that things were a lot different in her new home in New Haven, Conn. “I didn't realize how strange my situation was until I moved. I realized that there were virtually no Armenians around. No one could even pronounce my name,” she explains.For Nune, her identity had always been an ordinary, almost passive experience. After moving to Connecticut, however, she was, for the first time, forced to ask herself what it meant to be Armenian in a new, foreign space.

“In Glendale, there’s an Armenian bakery, an Armenian grocery store on pretty much every block," Nune explained. The reality in New Haven is much different, however. After moving to Connecticut, she found herself visiting Boston quite often. This photo was taken at one of the Armenian grocery stores in Watertown, Mass.—a Boston suburb with a huge Armenian population. (Photo: Nune Garipian)



“There weren’t many Armenians. Especially on campus, there were maybe 7 or 8 of them, all varying in ages,” she says. “This was a very different experience: going from always being surrounded by Armenians, from constantly hearing Armenian, to a place where many people don’t even personally know any Armenians. In a lot of instances, I am the first Armenian they meet."



Transitioning from a close-knit Armenian community in California was very difficult for Nune, especially when she first moved. “Luckily, though, I was quickly able to meet some Armenian students here at Yale,” she says.

Nune also found herself traveling to Boston quite often, where there is a much larger, more organized Armenian community. “There, I was able to meet other Armenian students. It’s like I gravitated towards them,” she adds.



Nune is not a professional photographer. For her, photography has always been a hobby; something she’s long enjoyed doing. So, while studying Political Science at Yale, she decided to enroll in a photography course to hone her skills and to learn more about the art form.



One of the projects for her class developed into this submission for h-pem: what Nune calls “an exploration of our collective Armenian identity.” “I wanted to showcase the subtle ways we, as Armenians, incorporate our identities into our daily lives,” she explains.



With motivation from her photography instructor (who, she later found out was part Armenian), Nune set out to snap candid photos of her new Armenian friends in their everyday lives. “What I wanted to do is capture my subjects in the spaces in which they were most comfortable; where they were most ‘at home',” she says. And that is perhaps what makes this photo series work so well—it’s what makes her images so real and relatable.

We at h-pem look forward to future submissions by Nune...

Kohar

For example, the photos of Kohar are taken at her apartment—at Kohar’s bed and at her desk. “Her space was like a museum—an intersection of all her identities,” Nune explains. From the Watan/Sophia Armen “Armenian women say reparations now!” print, to the photos of various protests, Nune beautifully captures parts of her friend’s identity.

Kohar. “Her space was like a museum—an intersection of all her identities,” Nune explains. (Photo: Nune Garipian)



From the Watan/Sophia Armen “Armenian women say reparations now!” print, to the photos of various protests, Nune beautifully captures parts of her friend Kohar's identity. (Photo: Nune Garipian)



Kris

Then there are the photos of Kris, who is originally from Watertown, Mass. "He invited me and another friend to have coffee at his grandma’s house. She set the table for us and we had coffee as I snapped my photos. It reminded me of home—of being with my grandma," she explains.