QAMI JAN Monthly Digital Magazine

Regular price $9.00

Each month, we publish our digital QAMI JAN magazine. There is no other publication like ours, because this one speaks directly to you and your experiences and also lets you open your hearts to each other. (Download our complimentary debut issue to see what we mean.)

About the Magazine:

The common "wisdom" from late stage capitalists is that magazines are NOT profitable, and for a brand to put out a magazine each month that doesn't even promote the brand's products is just foolish. Ha! And yet, the readership for QAMI JAN Digital Magazine keeps GROWING. With each issue, we receive feedback such as, "I was crying," "I felt so seen," "I haven't experienced anything like this." 

That's because we tackle tough topics that usually get algorithmically DEmoted by most social media and e-commerce platforms. Topics such as thousand-year-old cultural traditions, genocide, healing intergenerational trauma, indigenous liberation and strained national identity. And somehow, we manage to do it in the most visually stunning way, where you are left feeling 1) empowered with new knowledge and 2) imbued with the pride of your existence. Yes, our continued existence is a miracle. And it's a beautiful one.

It is not easy to put out this type of magazine. Nearly each day, there is a new "obstacle." Heck, Google Ads flagged us for a policy violation for having a photo of Dadivank Monastery in Artsakh (flagged as "violence and dangerous organizations.") Yes, Armenians sitting on their indigenous land is threatening--to some. Let's unpack that.

If you made it to this page, in spite of everything working against us, it's for a reason. Thank you for finding us. 

What to expect:

Stunning photos of the Armenian Highlands, conversations that aren't always easy but are necessary, articles and interviews that make you feel connected to the spirit of the Armenian Highlands and each other. In addition to our articles, each month's issue contains our discount codes for 10% off the QAMI JAN shop, and we provide other exclusive offers (such as complimentary tickets to events in the NYC area)--meaning your subscription more than pays for itself.

We promise this issue will make you feel something. If not, we will refund your money. 

About the April Issue: Before the Rooster Crows

April is Genocide Awareness Month, due to the confluence of genocides that began or crescendoed in many Aprils of the twentieth century, including, of course, the genocide of Armenians living in the Armenian Highlands and Cilicia during the final years of the Ottoman Empire. But what about today? The Armenian Genocide never ended, and not because "denial is the last stage of genocide"—as we so often hear in reference to the fact that the events of 1915-23 are still denied by their perpetrators. We saw that last October 2023, with Artsakh. 

Are we living as a people that believes their fate has been sealed, or do we continue to find our strength in the struggle for justice, in our continued existence and thus resistance? And, if we are not doing the latter, to what extent are we denying ourselves?

Issue No. 9 takes its title from Matthew 26:34, where Jesus says to Peter: “Truly, I tell you, this very night, before the rooster crows, you will deny me three times.” And Peter did. Disowning Jesus each time he was asked if he knew that man or had any affiliation with him. We recently reflected on these readings during the Thursday evening darkness vigil, or the Khavaroom Service, before Good Friday. It is during that service that the priest sings, from the altar, as the church's candles are extinguished and the sanctuary is shrouded in darkness, "Ուր ես մայր իմ?" (Where are you Mother?)—in my opinion, one of the most beautiful hymns in the Armenian tradition.

Speaking of mothers specifically, and of women more broadly, this issue features two interviews, one of Astrid Kamalyan, the author of the children's book BABO: A Tale of Armenian Rug-Washing Day, who reflects on the responsibility women have shouldered in preserving and transmitting the intangible elements of Armenian culture heritage, while also allowing their children that lightness, to learn through play and remain joyful. The second interview is of Emily Mkrtichian, who recently debuted her documentary film There Was, There Was Not, following the lives of four women in Artsakh who maintain that vibrancy in the face of all that was to come. She shares with us, "One of the women in my film, Sosé, constantly reminds me that we will go back to Artsakh, that the child I am about to have will be able to see those lands, and walk in those mountains." This, we must believe, lest we deny ourselves.


If you are looking for past issues, click here.