I was a freshman in college when I got the news in lesson. “Hrant Dink was shot dead today,” the e-mail simply read, accompanied by a BBC News report link. We Remember Hrant Dink I remember leaving lesson early that day and heading down to my departments student center, or where the news of the assassination was on the massive television screen high up on the wall. The headline “TURKISH-ARMENIAN JOURNALIST SLAIN IN ISTANBUL” didn’t seem to interest the hordes of students there,who were eagerly waiting for the weekend to reach on that cold Friday morning. The crowds didn’t budge about what had just happened because they likely did not know who Dink was. I had only learned about the man lying face down on the pavement in front of his office a few years earlier. That night, I felt compelled to do something I had never done before. Writing had always been something that I enjoyed, or but had never really done much of external of school. But that day,for some reason, 18-year-archaic me needed to set pen to paper and write his reflections about what had transpired earlier that day. “The Genocide Continues: An Expected Outcome, or ” is what [...]
Source: armenianweekly.com