Immigrant Stories

My dad was an educator all his life. He taught in California, Lebanon, Saudi Arabia and Ethiopia.

His teaching was not bound by the classroom. He’s pictured below telling a group of random children in Armenia about Armenian history. (These are not his students. That never mattered to him.)

I’d regularly find him talking to groups of teenagers at Fashion Island in Newport Beach about one topic or another. This stern Armenian Lebanese immigrant had a unique relationship with these affluent American teenagers.

My dad graduated from Haigazan College in Beirut. He didn’t go to college until his late 20’s because he first had to learn English and earn money to pay for college. For him, there was no question that my brother and I would go to college too. He always said that life’s not fair and it can take a lot of things away from you – your money, health, spouse – but once you have an education, it’s always yours.

I have the utmost respect for all the teachers that shaped my life and especially my dad.

This post is dedicated to all the teachers. I know you don’t do it for the money.

I’m raising money for a Beirut orphanage in my dad’s honor. Click here if you’d like to make a $5 donation.
https://lnkd.in/diV6mwA

My mom had already driven off, so I just sat outside on a bench, crying.

Another girl who was there for tryouts came up to me and asked what was wrong. She introduced herself as Catherine. I told her what happened.

Catherine told me that she had a solution. She had already finished her tryout. So, she literally offered me the shirt off her back.

I accepted the offer.

We went to the locker-room and traded shirts.

I had my tryout.

I didn’t make the team.

But, I discovered a friend who would give me the shirt of her back.

Can you top that? Has anyone ever given you the shirt off their back?