On Sunday, September 25th, I had the pleasure to attend the 44th annual Slovak Heritage Festival in the American state of New Jersey.
I hadn’t been to this festival in 8 years, in 2014, when I was 14 years old. The former President of Slovakia, Andrej Kiska, an ethnic Goral, actually paid a visit to the festival that year. I recall shaking his hand and then subsequently being guided away from him by secret service agents because I guess I was staying too close to him. At the time, I remember Kiska was to be a new voice for politics in Slovakia. As fate had it, much like most other Slovak politicians, his legacy was imperfect; although, arguably not nearly as tarnished as most politicians in the little Central European country. Ironically, I recall him pledging in a speech at the 2014 festival that he would return annually for the festival; he never returned.
I was very excited to come back to the festival finally after so many years. High school and college both served as a distraction during all those years, and now I had some free time to attend. However, this time I was going in with more in mind than just enjoying the cultural songs, dances, and great food. I wanted to explore the potential Rusyness that this festival would have to offer.
One thing I noticed about the Slovak community in America (I am referring to the recent diaspora – immigrants and their first-generation children) is that most of them hail from Eastern Slovakia. This is something I was always told and noticed growing up. Now, understanding that a lot of Slovaks from the east themselves either have Rusyn ancestry and are proud of it or are not aware of potential Rusynness, I figured this festival would offer a good number of sociological observations in regard to these questions.
This is quite personal for me. It was only about a year ago when I discovered Rusyn roots on my maternal side. Ever since then, I have been struggling with my own identity. My whole life I was always a Slovak American, the first person in my immediate family to be born in the United States; a true first-generation American. I had been proud of that Slovak identity basically the entirety of my life. But with discovering my Rusyn heritage, I’ve been having an ethnocultural battle going on in my soul.
I often tell people that I am a “Slovak-Rusyn.” But that has never done it justice for me. You see, I am equally proud of both heritages. But whenever I refer to myself as a “Slovak-Rusyn” I always question why not say “Rusyn-Slovak.” To most this is just semantics, however to me, this is genuinely frustrating. From my perspective, by saying Slovak-Rusyn, I am almost implying that Slovak is more important to me. But it is not. I view both as equals in my own ethnocultural identity.
This is especially frustrating to me because even though the number of people in the recent 2021 Slovak census that said they were Rusyn had increased since the decade prior, the number of people that registered as Rusyn first before Slovak decreased. Thus, it can be implied that in Slovakia, most people that are Rusyns sort of see their Rusynness as a secondary identity to the national Slovak identity. Even if a person might be majority Rusyn, this might be the case. Frankly, in Ukraine, it seems the opposite is true, where most people are either Rusyn or Ukrainian or both. In Slovakia, you are typically Slovak first, and then Rusyn.
So, this is where I currently find myself struggling – what am I? I want to identify with both equally, but how can I do that realistically?
I got there around 10 in the morning, just in time for the Byzantine Greek-Catholic Divine Liturgy service at 10:30. Immediately realizing that the Sunday morning service was done in the Eastern Catholic Rite rather than Roman Catholic mass was an immediate sign that this festival was likely going to be much more Rusyn than I had ever imagined it would be.
The service was gorgeous and uplifting. During the sermon of the priest, he cracked a joke making fun of Western Slovaks. He said something along the lines of “When we were children, everyone would talk about what they want to be when they grow up. There would be a child that would say cosmonaut, another that would say doctor, and then unfortunately there would be a child that wanted to become a Blažak.” (Blažak is an Eastern Slovak term making fun of residents of Bratislava). I found that joke hilarious, as did most of the audience.
As the day went on, I met with many family friends and generally many people that I had not seen since I was a child and teenager. The more people I talked to, I realized not only that most of the people in attendance were recent immigrants or first-generation types like me, but the majority were Eastern Slovaks and Rusyns. I heard Rusyn being spoken ambiently around the festival several times, and in addition, I heard Eastern Slovak dialectical phrases and words spoken more often than academic Slovak.
There weren’t just Slovaks and Rusyns at this festival. Poles, Czechs, Ukrainians, and even one guy I met that was a Lemko. But nevertheless, the majority were Eastern Slovaks and Rusyns.
Starting around noon until about 6 PM, there would constantly be performers and ensemble/dance groups that performed on the main stage various cultural songs and dances. The first half of the performances were very diverse, with traditional Slovak, Goral, Czech, and even Romani Gypsy numbers performed at one point or another. But the second half seemed to be dominated by Rusyn pieces, especially when the Labirsky Betare came onto the stage.
Before they performed, one of the festival hosts asked the crowd to raise their hand if you are Rusyn. From my understanding, probably 70% of the crowd raised their hands. I was absolutely astounded. Going into the festival, I figured that it was likely 30-40% of the people that would show up to the festival throughout the day were Rusyn or claim some Rusyn ancestry, but I was never expecting the majority to be Rusyn.
It dawned on me that although this was a great thing, in other ways, it was a bit troubling. For one, this evidently portrays the average Rusyn from Slovakia as being prouder of their Slovak identity before their Rusyn identity. There are several factors to blame for this. For one, Rusyns have always been a stateless people, and thus identifying with the national identity of the ruler nation instead of their ethnic identity throughout history just made the most logical sense. That is why perhaps a Rusyn from Subcarpathia in Ukraine or Slovakia if asked, will likely identify as a Slovak or Ukrainian first. I think who is asking also matters.
For instance, perhaps within Slovakia, the average Rusyn would likely not have much trouble identifying as a Rusyn to their fellow countrymen; however, if a Rusyn from the homeland is in a foreign land such as the United States, why would they identify as a Rusyn if they are from Slovakia. First, many Americans don’t even know where Slovakia is, so the headache of having to explain Rusyns to the average American is likely a turn-off.
Another large component of this phenomenon could very well be the Slovakization and Ukrainization of Rusyns in the homeland over the past century or so. While this might be grand and vague reasoning, I think it would contribute to people being much less proud of their ethnic heritage on a national level. That is not to say Rusyns aren’t proud of their heritage on a local level (village by village) but it seems many do not care for the status of the Carpathian Rus as a whole, especially within Slovakia. This uninterest, fueled by a century of Slovakization/Ukrainization policies, would seem to explain why many wouldn’t identify with their ethnic heritage primarily, opting for the national identity of Slovak. Even then, as many strides have been made since the early 1990s in terms of Rusyn consciousness, you’d think every single Rusyn in Slovakia would be fond of their Rusynness by now since it has basically been encouraged to come to terms with your Rusyn background in modern Slovakia. But I digress, these are simply just excuses. Someone that is Rusyn and a proud Rusyn should not be afraid of identifying as such, no matter where they are in the world.
With respect to my own identity, I ultimately think that anyone can choose what their own identity is beyond just simply genetic factors. And realistically, since Rusyns are the smaller, more “marginalized” group, it might be most beneficial if I identify first with Rusyn, then Slovak second, going forward. I strongly encourage others in my situation to do the same, for the sake of our people’s survival into the future. This will pose a challenge for me as an American, definitely. Explaining to strangers who ask that I am Rusyn and Slovak and receiving blank and ignorant stares back is going to be commonplace. But others in my situation need to accept the reality that our Rusynness is threatened with cultural extinction, and we must do all that we can in order to preserve our culture. And the best way we can achieve that is by educating the masses about our existence, and by not being afraid to admit we exist by telling people “I am Rusyn.” The more people that are generally aware of our existence, the higher potential there is for allies in our movement to be gained. We need as many allies as we can recruit since the odds are stacked against our survival now.