I was seven years old, still in my school uniform, spewing out my thoughts to my mom. My vocabulary was limited, but my emotions certainly were not. Somewhere in the middle of my passionate rambling, my mom pulled out her phone and began to record me. The moment I noticed the camera, I held my head a little higher, proud that my concerns were being documented. To me, that camera meant that what I was saying mattered — that my frustration was being heard and that, somehow, my voice could reach beyond that singular moment. It was the day before Armenian Genocide Remembrance Day. At school, the students were all excited that we would not have to return to class the next morning. Among the Armenian students, there was an unspoken understanding of why. We all had at least a basic understanding of what April 24th meant: the symbolic beginning of the mass killing and displacement of millions of our people by Ottoman Turkey. For many of the non-Armenian students, though, the Armenian Genocide may have been something they had never heard of, or only heard about in passing. As I remember it, no one had explicitly explained why our schools were closing, or taught us about the history we were taking the day to commemorate — which is precisely what sparked my adamant outburst. Despite growing up with an understanding of the Armenian Genocide through my family and community, I still wanted to deepen that knowledge in a classroom setting alongside classmates who would also be learning about such a crucial part of history. I searched for a solution with all the policy expertise one could expect from a seven-year-old. I spoke endlessly about schools, about recognition, and about how everyone should have the means to learn about the Armenian Genocide. I knew exactly what I wanted, but I didn’t have the words to explain what needed to be done and how we could get there. So, instead, I repeated the one thing I was certain of: we needed this education. That desire — a classroom, a curriculum, a country making this history accessible — didn’t disappear when the camera stopped recording. More than a decade later, it took shape as the Armenian Genocide Education Act. Reintroduced in Congress in 2025, the Armenian Genocide Education Act builds upon earlier federal recognition of the Genocide, including congressional recognition in 2019 and presidential recognition in 2021. It is the third time this bill has been reintroduced — a testament to the Armenian community’s persistence in making this history accessible to all of America. The Armenian National Committee of America’s (ANCA’s) policy brief sums it up clearly: the bill seeks to secure ten million dollars over five years for the Library of Congress to help educate Americans about the Armenian Genocide, while promoting greater public understanding of its history, lessons, consequences, and ongoing costs. The legislation addresses a shortage of Armenian Genocide material in school textbooks and lesson plans. As the ANCA rightly emphasizes, expanding education is necessary to push back against the Turkish government’s ongoing denial of the Armenian Genocide and its efforts to weaken U.S. recognition of it. The most powerful way to counter more than a century of denial is not always force — it is a curriculum that teaches the truth. The bill also recognizes that this history extends beyond Armenians alone. It specifically addresses the mass murder, national dispossession, cultural erasure, and exile of Armenians, Greeks, Assyrians, Chaldeans, Syriacs, Arameans, Maronites, and other Christian communities under the Ottoman Empire between 1915 and 1923. In doing so, the bill helps ensure that the suffering of all these communities is remembered. History cannot be fully understood when key parts of its timeline are left out. Doing so would be like reading a book while skipping entire sections and still expecting to understand the full story. Leaving the Armenian Genocide out of that story means overlooking a history that Armenian-Americans continue to carry with them more than a century later. Lacking the resources to teach about the Armenian Genocide removes an important part of the twentieth century’s history of genocide and human rights. The result is a public uninformed about the events that shaped entire communities with which they now share a country. Because education is a powerful tool that can shape the minds of America’s youth, the passage of this bill is incredibly important. Teaching the history and consequences of genocide helps future generations recognize the dangers of denial and dehumanization, and ensures that they have the knowledge necessary to reject hatred and prevent history from repeating itself. ANCA’s comparison to the Never Again Education Act, a federal law that supports Holocaust education and awareness, demonstrates that nationwide support for genocide education is entirely possible, and can serve to confront denial and misinformation — countering distortion of history. On that April afternoon, the only audience to my speech was my mom and the camera in her hand. And yet, I remember believing wholeheartedly that my concerns belonged to something greater than myself. I realize now that my belief was right. The ideas I articulated to the very best of my ability have taken on a tangible form in the Armenian Genocide Education Act. Its passage would honor the lives and experiences of the millions affected, while helping build a better informed public — one better equipped to understand the past, challenge denial, and carry those valuable lessons into the future. Turns out, the seven-year-old confidently blabbering with zero policy expertise actually had it right all along. A passion to learn and be heard, it seems, has no age requirement.
By Maya Balmanukyan
Last Friday, Trump tried to institute a media ban against CNN, MSNOW, and Politico, refusing them entry to the White House. Now, CNN has been blocked from Air Force One. This is one of the greatest threats we have seen to the First Amendment rights by this administration. Though the Trump administration and the Justice Department claim this decision was made after threats to national security, Trump’s initial Truth Social posts cited different reasons: “It’s sick. I mean, there’s something wrong with a country that can allow people to write purposely negative stuff. Now, if they want to write them, that’s fine. But I don’t have to let them into my, into the people’s house,” Trump said at an event in the Oval Office last week. Now that doesn’t sound like a national security defense argument. Trump didn’t point to national security reasoning until the ban went to a hearing. He switched tactics in a Truth Social post, saying, “The White House is not instituting an assault on the Free Press, something which I cherish. It is instituting an assault on the FAKE NEWS, something that has grown like Cancer in our beloved United States of America. It is a threat to our National Security, and must be stopped, NOW!” The Trump administration cited multiple alleged articles that were assaults on security due to their alleged misinformation. Some of the articles cited included topics like the status of munitions supplies for the Iran war, an FBI leak investigation involving a journalist, sanctions on Russia, and an article about the bad “vibes” at the Republican midterm convention. Most of the articles cited by the Trump administration were written by journalists who did not hold card passes to the White House. And yet, 78 journalists lost their White House press passes. No one can deny the fact that CNN, MSNOW, and Politico are left-leaning publications. Though I have my own journalistic qualms with any publications that try to take a political slant, that shouldn’t stop them from being able to produce content. It is their First Amendment right. And this was agreed upon in a court of law when, on Thursday, a judge temporarily overturned Trump’s ban due to lack of due process. These media companies were never proved to be a national security risk. Their press passes were taken away only with a letter from the administration stating that they failed to maintain “standards of professionalism and decorum.” Journalists are the watchdogs of America. They regulate our government to ensure our civil liberties and freedoms are protected. If there was a time in America when we needed someone like them to look out for the citizens, it would be now. In times like this, the last thing we want is a weaker press. We need as many journalists watching out for our best interests as possible. America is a free country, and although you don’t have to agree with the reporting tactics of these formerly banned organizations, you can understand what sort of implications these bans have on the future. The precedent of keeping our liberties in tow is most pressing. Acknowledgement: The opinions expressed in this article are those of the individual author, not necessarily Our National Conversation as a whole.
By Adrihanna Collins
The recent walkouts during speeches at the United Nations raise an uncomfortable question: Is the world’s response to state violence becoming selective? Israel’s military operation in Gaza, launched after the Hamas attack of October 7, 2023, has become one of the most controversial conflicts of the modern era. According to Israeli authorities, Hamas killed around 1,200 people in Israel and took 251 hostages. Subsequently, Israel launched a massive air and ground campaign in Gaza, saying its objective was to dismantle Hamas and rescue the hostages. According to Gaza health officials, by September 2026, more than 73,000 Palestinians have reportedly been killed. This figure that does not distinguish between civilians and combatants. The scale of destruction and civilian suffering in Gaza has generated international condemnation and allegations of violations of international humanitarian law. The International Criminal Court issued an arrest warrant for Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu in November 2024, alleging responsibility for war crimes and crimes against humanity. The warrant is an ICC judicial action, not a UN arrest order, and Israel has rejected the court’s jurisdiction and allegations. The controversy over Netanyahu’s international travel is also complicated. Canada, for example, has previously said it would respect its obligations under the ICC framework. However, Canadian officials said separately that overflight policy is not automatically linked to law-enforcement objectives, unless there is an imminent security risk. But there is another side to this debate that we simply cannot ignore. Iran, under the Islamic Republic, has a long record of suppressing political dissent. The country has witnessed mass executions, violent crackdowns on protesters, arbitrary arrests, and severe restrictions on civil liberties. Amnesty International estimates that thousands of political prisoners were executed in 1988, while Human Rights Watch has described those executions as crimes against humanity. The repression has not remained a single chapter in history. During the 2022 “Woman, Life, Freedom” protests, hundreds of people were killed. The crackdown following the nationwide protests of late 2025 and early 2026 was even more severe. Amnesty International reported that the UN Special Rapporteur on Iran had cited an estimate of at least 5,000 people killed. Further information suggesting the number could have been as high as 50,000. Iranian authorities themselves acknowledged thousands of deaths, although the exact figure remains disputed. Likewise, Human Rights Watch reported that Iranian security forces carried out mass killings of protesters and bystanders during the January 2026 crackdown, with the death toll reaching the thousands. So the question becomes unavoidable: Where was the same level of international outrage when Iranian authorities were killing protesters inside Iran? More specifically, why does the world watch walkouts and diplomatic gestures surrounding Israeli speeches, while Iranian leaders continue to appear on the same international stage without protest? There is, of course, an important distinction. A walkout does not measure whether the United Nations condemns a government for its actions. The UN and its human-rights mechanisms have repeatedly criticized Iran’s executions and repression. In 2025, the UN Human Rights Office reported that Iranian authorities had executed at least 841 people by August 28th alone. However, public perception matters. When diplomats physically leave the hall during one leader’s speech, while another leader representing a government accused of similar, severe human-rights abuses receives an international platform, people naturally question whether the standards are consistent. The United Nations was created to uphold principles that should apply beyond geography, religion, political alliances, or military power. Palestinian lives matter. Israeli lives matter. Iranian lives matter. The victims of Hamas matter. The victims of state repression in Iran matter. Condemning one government does not require silence about another’s actions. Opposing Hamas terrorism should not mean ignoring Palestinian civilian suffering. Supporting Iranian protesters should not mean casting aside the suffering of Israelis. The real question, therefore, is not simply “Who walked out?” It is: “Does the international community apply the same moral and legal standards to every government, or do geopolitics decide whose suffering receives the loudest response?” If the United Nations is truly an institution for all peoples, its credibility ultimately depends on whether it defends human rights consistently—even when doing so is politically inconvenient.
By Suzzy Majumder
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