Many middle-class American teenagers worry about grades. Some worry about friends, popularity, and dates for school dances. Others face the pressures and physical demands that come with varsity athletics. From what we (Soriya, Ted, and Morgan) have gathered from the members of our crew, a lot of American teenagers are becoming more and more stressed about competitive admissions standards for colleges and universities.
When Arn Chorn Pond was a teenager, he worried about death. By the time he turned 13 years old, he was the last surviving member of his immediate family. His parents were killed for no reason other than the fact that they were performance artists. He watched his younger brother and sister slowly starve, but could do nothing to help them.
In order to survive this tragically brutal era in Cambodian history, Arn became a flautist for the Khmer Rouge, entertaining officers and playing songs of propaganda. During his affiliation with the Pol Pot Regime, he witnessed and was sometimes forced to help facilitate the slaughter of countless innocent victims. When the Vietnamese invaded Cambodia in 1978, he was recruited to fight. He was only 12 years old and could barely hold a gun, much less shoot it in the direction of another human being. Two years later in 1980, Arn escaped Cambodia by trekking through dense jungles across the Thai border. When he arrived at the Sa Kaeo refugee camp, he weighed sixty pounds and was infected with malaria.
Arn’s story is well documented in countless websites, printed materials, and the documentary film, The Flute Player. But last week, our team got the chance to meet him and hear his story first hand. As he spoke about his family, we could hear his voice crack with emotion. When he discussed the tragedies he experienced, his face expressed a frustration and confusion that he has been confronting for decades. When he spoke about his vision for a peaceful and prosperous future for Cambodia, we could feel his passion. In this hour long conversation, Arn gave us a vivid, emotionally rich depiction of modern Cambodian history which could not be easily reproduced in a book, academic paper, or even a film.
Students described our time with Arn as “a wakeup call.” Several of us even shed a few tears while he spoke. But despite the emotional heaviness of Arn’s talk, we all walked away with a desire to take action. Though Arn’ teenage years were nothing short of tumultuous, he has since worked tirelessly to improve the lives of students, refugees, and trauma victims in Cambodia, the US, and several other regions of the world. In recent years he has also become a leading figure in the restoration of Cambodian arts which were at the brink of extinction during the reign of the Khmer rouge. Though it is difficult to bring up his past, Arn continues to speak to large crowds and smaller groups like our own, to educate the world of the atrocities of tyranny and war. In short, he is making a difference.
Our lives are undeniably different than Arn’s. The stresses and worries we face, whether they involve studies, sports, work, or relationships, may seem insignificant when compared to the struggles of people like Arn. But whether they are big or small, Arn’s story reminds us that we should never let the challenges we face foster inaction. Apathy won’t prevent hunger or heal the sick. Cynicism won’t end child prostitution or human trafficking. And indifference will certainly not prevent another Khmer Rouge from taking power.
Arn reminded us that keeping the world a civil place will take hard work. As the members of our team are finishing up this trip and beginning to embark upon new challenges, we (Ted, Morgan, and Soriya) look forward to seeing how they work toward a greater good in the coming weeks, months, and years. We know that they have the talent and energy to make a positive impact on this complicated, sometimes brutal planet. We are confident that they will make a difference.













