What is the Reason?

By Anonymous / Fall 2024

Does everything happen for a reason? As a child, I frequently questioned why certain things happened to me or my family. Was it fate, coincidence, or the result of decisions made long before I was born? This curiosity grew stronger as I watched my family face challenges that seemed too large for any one person to handle. As I grew older, I began to understand that the challenges we faced were not simply bad luck or isolated decisions, but rather they were tied to larger forces outside of our control. These economic, political, and societal norms steered the course of our lives, often in ways that felt overwhelming. In the course of my life, my parents lost their jobs, I saw my extended family break apart over money, my cousin in Armenia died in a war, and I developed severe chest pains due to the stress and anxiety from these experiences. So tell me, if everything happens for a reason, what was the reason for all this?

My parents moved to this country 25 years ago with hopes of living a better life. They trusted in the promise of the 'land of opportunity,' where hard work would lead to success. And at first, it appeared that dream was coming true. They purchased a home, raised three children, and established a secure lifestyle, but beneath the surface, cracks were already forming. I grew up in a household with traditional roles, my mother took care of the home and children while my father worked. This arrangement seemed natural at the time but in retrospect put enormous pressure on both of them which led to frequent arguments. Ever since I was six, I saw my parents argue, mainly about financials. As a child, I thought it was my fault so I believed if I behaved perfectly the fighting would stop. Looking back, I see that I did not cause the arguments, rather they were about something bigger which neither of them could fully control. I vividly remember moments when the weight of financial instability was visible. My parents would talk about the bills piling up and even as a child I understood the tension in their conversations stemmed from something much larger than our household. It came from a system that was designed to keep us struggling. According to W. Edwards Deming, "A bad system will beat a good person every time." This means that failures are often caused by the system rather than the people. Instead of blaming individuals, we should be focused on improving the system in order to achieve a more just society.

For my family, the 2008 financial crisis marked a turning point. Similar to others, we were forced to change our way of life. My father was a real estate agent and it was a difficult time for realtors since the demand for homes decreased. With my dad out of work and my mother taking care of us, no income was coming in. Suddenly, the dream they had worked so hard for seemed even further out of reach. The financial crisis did not only create new challenges, it magnified the existing ones, exposing the fragility of our financial situation and the larger systems that had led us there. Later, I realized that my family's struggles were not unique, but rather part of a larger system shaped by neoliberal policies, which prioritize free markets, privatization, and individual responsibility over collective support. In “The Ideology at the Root of All Our Problems” George Monbiot explains how such systems promote the belief that "efforts to create a more equal society are both counterproductive and mortally corrosive. The market ensures that everyone gets what they deserve." But did we really deserve that? Did our struggles have to occur? These questions weighed heavily during a difficult time when my parents frequently blamed themselves and each other. As Monbiot observed, "The poor begin to blame themselves for their failures, even when they can do little to change their circumstances." This realization shifted my perspective, demonstrating how systemic forces work to obscure accountability, leaving individuals to bear burdens beyond their control. While neoliberalism is intended to promote economic growth and innovation, it has resulted in significant wealth concentration and economic inequality. The 2007-2008 financial crisis demonstrated how unchecked market forces and deregulated financial practices can lead to economic instability. This emphasis on market competition has frequently prioritized corporate profits over public welfare, harming not only the economy but also the social fabric by widening the wealth gap and undermining public services. Due to the stress caused by an inequitable system, my family struggled to get back on track, forcing us to move into a small apartment with little guidance or support. This experience demonstrated how systemic issues, rather than individual shortcomings, frequently trap families in cycles of adversity.

Growing up in this environment taught me resilience, but it also pushed me to mature quickly. Most of my childhood was spent worrying if my parents had enough money to support us. Because of this, I understood the value of a dollar from a young age and learned to never ask for anything. I recall helping my parents from a young age by making sure I did not increase their expenses and making sure I was helping out around the house. To ease my parents' burden, I felt compelled to accept responsibilities beyond my years. In high school, I began working to ensure that they would not have to pay any of my expenses. In my perspective, if they didn't have to worry about me, their lives would be easier. This sense of responsibility grew stronger with time. When I first started community college, I worked multiple jobs while also attending classes full-time, believing that it was the only way for me to support my family and prove myself, but I definitely took on more than I could handle, and the weight of these responsibilities often left me feeling lost and overwhelmed. I remember how even though I was taking care of my individual finances, my family still ran into financial difficulties.

My parents encountered many difficulties within their relationship and decided to live apart from each other during my second year of community college, forcing my mother to start over. After being financially dependent on my father, she found herself in an unfamiliar world of independence, and neither of us knew what to do. Watching her come home exhausted from working long hours at the bakery and at the daycare broke my heart. At the same time, she relied on me to guide her through a life neither of us had prepared for. At 19 years old, I found myself learning how to pay rent, manage bills, and deal with the realities of adulthood—all while attempting to support my mother during this transition.

Given the challenges we faced, I took on three jobs and four classes while also managing all of the household finances to ensure that everything was paid on time. The burden of these responsibilities, combined with the emotional toll of our family's struggles, became overwhelming. The stress began to manifest physically. I began having chest pains, and one night I was rushed to the emergency room due to severe shortness of breath, intense chest pain, and a tingling sensation down my left arm. I feared the worst: was I having a heart attack? I was hooked up to an IV, scanned, and monitored for hours before being told I was fine. Hearing that I was "fine" seemed surreal. I didn't feel fine. The pain I was feeling was real, but it wasn't caused by a physical condition; it was the result of the extreme stress I was under. My focus on survival and meeting expectations left me with no time to process or address my emotions. As Noam Chomsky observed in the documentary “Requiem for the American Dream,” "Solidarity is a fundamental human trait—but it must be driven out of people's heads. You have to be for yourself and follow the vile maxim: 'Don't care about others,' which is fine for the wealthy and powerful but disastrous for everyone else." (Chomsky) This shocking reality exemplified the world I grew up in, where systemic pressures demanded self-reliance at the expense of emotional well-being and human connection.

Eventually, my family reconciled, and we moved back into one home. While this brought some relief, I carried a lingering anger. No one acknowledged the immense stress I had endured or the sacrifices I had made. Yet, as always, I suppressed those feelings, convincing myself that everyone else was struggling too. Since then we are able to live without major financial issues weighing over us. Still, I couldn’t shake the question: Did it have to be this way? Was our struggle necessary, or was it the result of a system that prioritized individual success over collective well-being. I often found myself wondering, "Why is it this way?" Why is it that those who work the hardest struggle the most? Reflecting on this question led me to link our financial struggles to larger systems of inequality and exploitation. The societal pressures that shaped my family's life were not isolated; they were linked to an economic system that harms many while concentrating wealth and opportunity in the hands of a few.

Financial difficulties affected not only my immediate family, but also my relatives. When it came time to plan a family member's funeral, the high costs sparked a major disagreement, eventually leading to a painful separation that made our family even smaller. It made me wonder why financial pressures can cause loved ones to act out in ways that sever relationships. Over time, I realized that these conflicts are often the result of systemic issues beyond our control—problems deeply rooted in economic inequities that we, as individuals, struggle to address.

This realization made me reflect on my family's resilience throughout history. As an Armenian, the Armenian Genocide is central to my understanding of systemic harm. The genocide was not only a tragedy in terms of human lives lost, but also a deliberate eradication of economic and cultural foundations. Unfortunately, genocide is a word I learned early on in my life and there is a mental element and a physical element. Learning that my people were “deliberately targeted” just because they lived on a land others wanted was a profound and painful realization, one that resonates deeply with the definition outlined in the Convention on the Prevention and Punishment of the Crime of Genocide. My great grandparents' generation was forced to start from scratch, carrying the trauma of displacement while navigating a world with little support. However, history tends to repeat itself. The recent wars in Artsakh feel eerily similar to the injustices my ancestors endured. These conflicts have reignited a painful struggle for identity and survival, with my own family bearing the brunt of the ongoing battle. My cousin, a young man full of promise, died in an unwinnable war—fueled by geopolitical interests that disregard human lives. His death served as a stark reminder of how systemic forces, whether rooted in historical injustices or contemporary conflicts, continue to shape Armenian lives around the world. This history has left echoes in my family's story to this day. They serve as a reminder that systemic harm does not end with a single generation; it has long-term consequences for how we live, survive, and rebuild. This intergenerational resilience has become central to my understanding of both my identity and the larger systems that shape people's lives over time. As stated in the Journal of Aggression, Maltreatment, and Trauma, "The events of the Armenian Genocide of 1915... has left a deep, painful scar on this small but prominent culture." (ICMGLT) This enduring trauma emphasizes the profound impact of historical atrocities on future generations, as well as the resilience required to navigate and overcome such systemic challenges. If everything happens for a reason, what was the reason behind the genocide? Why did my cousin have to die? What is the reason for so many deaths worldwide in conflicts fueled by power and greed? These questions linger, unanswered but unavoidable, reminding me that, while history's wounds may never fully heal, they need reflection, resilience, and a shared commitment to ensuring such atrocities never happen again.

The injustices that many families face when dealing with financial difficulties frequently lead me to question the world we live in. Why do so many bad things happen when we are only a pale blue dot in an enormous universe? My personal experiences are only one example; countless others are fighting for their lives when they should simply be living. Children go through unimaginable pain while surviving bombs that destroy their homes. These realities are perpetuated by today's systems, which are the result of forces that existed long ago. Financial disparities, combined with the elusive "American Dream," create a picture of opportunity that is frequently presented but rarely provided. Small events, a missed paycheck, an unexpected bill, can spiral into life-changing consequences, exposing just how fragile the balance is for many families.

These unfair systems that are in place carry on to those navigating life in the 2020s which adds an extra layer of complexity. The pressures of a hyper-competitive world, combined with the relentless pace of life, leave many of us feeling rushed, anxious, and confused. We struggle with the weight of an unspoken rule: supporting our families is not only a responsibility, but the only perceived path to a "successful life." However, what exactly is the definition of success? For many, it is a confusing concept shaped more by societal expectations than personal fulfillment. Although this reality is not fair, it is a fact that many people must face. When faced with such challenges, it's easy to become discouraged. However, as Nelson Mandela once stated, "Man's goodness is a flame that can be hidden but never extinguished." This reminds me that, even in the darkest of times, compassion and humanity endure. We frequently wonder about the meaning of life and how to discover it in the midst of so much suffering. Maybe the meaning of life isn’t something we find, but something we create through the choices we make and the lessons we learn.

Understanding these connections was a driving force in my decision to study business economics. For years, I struggled to make sense of the chaos around me, feeling overwhelmed by the weight of my responsibilities and unanswered questions. Pursuing this field has allowed me to seek clarity, not only for myself, but also for other families who face similar systemic barriers. By researching the systems that perpetuate inequality, I hope to contribute to a future in which people are valued not only for their labor, but also for their humanity.

So, does everything happen for a reason? I'm not sure I'll ever have a definitive answer. But I do know that our struggles have shaped who I am and fueled my desire to understand the forces that govern our lives. Through my studies and experiences, I've come to believe that, while we can't control the systems we're born into, we can work to understand and challenge them, resulting in a world where fewer people wonder, "Why did it have to be this way?"

Works Cited

A bad system will beat a good person every time. (n.d.). The W. Edwards Deming Institute. https://deming.org/a-bad-system-will-beat-a-good-person-every-time/

Neoliberalism – the ideology at the root of all our problems. (2016, April 15). The Guardian. https://www.theguardian.com/books/2016/apr/15/neoliberalism-ideology-problem-george-monbiot.

Noam Chomsky. (n.d.). Kanopy. Requiem for the American Dream. https://www.kanopy.com/en/product/requiem-american-dream-1?frontend=kui

Convention on the Prevention and Punishment of the Crime of Genocide. (n.d.). Article II U.N Definition of Genocide. Welcome to the United Nations. https://www.un.org/en/genocideprevention/documents/atrocity-crimes/Doc.1_Convention%20on%20the%20Prevention%20and%20Punishment%20of%20the%20Crime%20of%20Genocide.pdf

Mangassarian Selina. (n.d.). 100 Years of Trauma: the Armenian Genocide and Intergenerational Cultural Trauma. Journal of Aggression, Maltreatment & Trauma. https://www.tandfonline.com/doi/abs/10.1080/10926771.2015.1121191

Reflections on Nelson Mandela. (n.d.). Youth Advocate Programs (YAP), Inc. https://www.yapinc.org/News/Article/ArticleID/59/Reflections-on-Nelson-Mandela