Poem | For Mariam, by YAPA 2024 Winner Madeline Berberian-Hutchinson

For Mariam,
And for the victims, survivors, and ancestors of the 1915 Armenian Genocide.

We could have sliced right through the mountains,
meander through it’s fissure to save
the delicacy of our daughters
but Ararat is our spine, our marrow
runs warm against its altitude

Our songs echo in between the Mulberry trees
they tell us our songs are always despair but our
history is measured in wavering breadths of suffering
you would not notice us if we died like we were supposed to
I must be martyred to be remembered

This is our consequence for
Papa’s sweat lining the horizon and Hagop’s
little hands tracing our family name in the dirt and Anoush’s
wrinkled umbilical cord herding our cattle.

We are a lard less people
we are an emaciated, razor thin god
but we remain limitless

We were born maybe in October,
(my great granddaughter will
place chocolates next to my candle
on the second or third Sunday) but
we all die in the early shadows of April

Mother, Mariam, Mother
we are meant to mourn —
you were birthed from a mass grave
— Save us,
Mother, Mariam, Mother.

Save us in the last expanses of poppy fields
I fear they will not see June
I cannot feel March or Malatia
on my split lips anymore

Beyond meeting and
parting there exists a place:
a valley where we are as round-bellied as the sun

But I knew my great-grandmother as well as my son will know me
they will turn me inside out,
and fold our land inwards on itself.

Madeline Berberian-Hutchinson is a 16-year-old writer and artist from Brooklyn, New York. She attends Stuyvesant High School, where she is a co-president of the Armenian Club. She enjoys writing poetry and creative nonfiction about her Armenian identity.

YAPA Judge Arminé Iknadossian on Berberian-Hutchinson’s “For Mariam,”:

"For Mariam," is a poem that honors the victims and survivors of the Armenian Genocide. By personifying Mt. Ararat the poet brings the homeland to life. This poem delves into the despair that comes with our culture, using metaphor and sensory details to visualize the landscape of suffering. With surprising depth and lyrical prowess, the poem cries for mother, cries for the martyrs, cries for the lost poppy fields and the lost futures of millions. It is a somber piece, written with precision and purpose. It leaves the reader wanting more and guides the reader to sobering realizations. 

Born in Beirut, Lebanon, Arminé Iknadossian’s family fled to California when she was four years old to escape the civil war. After graduating from UCLA, Iknadossian earned an MFA in Creative Writing at Antioch University while teaching full time. Armine is the author of All That Wasted Fruit (Main Street Rag. Iknadossian’s poetry is featured in Five South, Ruminate Magazine, HyeBred, Armenian Poetry Project, Whale Road Review, South Florida Poetry Journal, Cultural Weekly, The San Diego Reader, The Nervous Breakdown and The American Journal of Poetry. Iknadossian recently received two grants from the Arts Council of Long Beach to write her second volume of poetry. She has also received fellowships from Idyllwild Arts, The Los Angeles Writing Project, and Otis College of Art and Design. Armine is also one of the poets of Project 1521, which brings together artists, writers, and scholars to generate visual and literary works as acts of resistance. Her other passion project is collaborating with the International Armenian Literary Alliance (IALA), where she serves on the advisory board.