The Boston Globe Staff
November 08, 2012
Beginning at age 11, Arn Chorn-Pond experienced firsthand the worst
atrocities of Cambodia’s Khmer Rouge regime. Taken to a work camp, where
his talent for playing the flute helped keep him alive, Chorn-Pond
witnessed torture, starvation, mass murder, and cannibalism.
He was later rescued from a Thai refugee camp and brought to America
by the Rev. Peter Pond, a New Hampshire clergyman, whose family adopted
him. Chorn-Pond went on to graduate from Providence College, live in
Lowell, and work against gang violence.
Now a thinly fictionalized biography of Chorn-Pond and his escape
from Cambodia’s Killing Fields is among five finalists for this year’s
National Book Awards in the young people’s literature category. “Never
Fall Down,” written by Patricia McCormick, packs an emotional punch
whose impact has surprised even Chorn-Pond.
“I didn’t think American kids would care about what happened to my
family and my country,” he said during a recent visit to the Boston
area. “They’re busy going to the mall, the club. But I was wrong.”
Today, Chorn-Pond, 48, lives in Cambodia running an organization that
supports and promotes native artists and musicians. Internationally, he
has become a symbol of courage, resilience, and reconciliation as his
country continues to heal from genocide’s wounds. The Khmer Rouge regime
killed an estimated 2 million of his countrymen in the 1970s.
He returned to Boston to see old friends and to speak with high
school students. “Never Fall Down” — the title refers to his knowledge
that any stumble in the fields of the Cambodian camp where he toiled
would mean instant death — has influenced his work and life in
significant ways, according to Chorn-Pond.
It has brought his story, previously told in newspaper articles and
the documentary film “The Flute Player,” to a larger, younger audience
for whom the events described are in the distant past. McCormick spent
months interviewing Chorn-Pond and traveled to rural areas of Cambodia,
seeking others who could corroborate, and sometimes add to, what he
remembered of his childhood.
Appearing together in New Bedford last month, author and subject
spoke to a group of teens who, when they hear about genocide, are more
likely to think about what happened in the Holocaust during World War II
or in Rwanda in the 1990s — and not what happened in Cambodia four
decades ago.
“This book fills a black hole between the two” episodes of genocide,
says McCormick, who lives in New York City. Winners of the 2012 National
Book Awards will be announced Nov. 14.
At times Chorn-Pond found it difficult to tell his story, vividly
remembering some details — like the sound of a land mine detonating
underneath a young girl — and others more vaguely, one factor in
McCormick’s decision to novelize the tale. But any difficulties in
gathering the material were minor compared with his generosity of
spirit.
“Arn’s belief in the power of forgiveness is amazing,” says
McCormick, who already knows of two schools, in New York and
Connecticut, that have incorporated “Never Fall Down” into their lesson
programs. “And when he speaks about the way music saved his life, it’s
incredibly moving.”
The book’s publication has also aided Chorn-Pond’s own emotional
healing, he says, a process that continues to this day as he grapples
with survivor’s guilt and other symptoms of posttraumatic stress.
The novel helps explain why, recounting a litany of horrors that any
young reader will find difficult to wade through. In one scene,
Chorn-Pond describes undressing other children moments before they are
killed by their captors with ax blows to their heads.
“You not living. And you not dead,” Chorn-Pond observes at one point in the book “You living dead.”
Even the novel’s final chapters, after he has come to America, bring
little in the way of a happy ending. Cruelly teased by schoolmates for
his mannerisms and skin color, he describes the trouble he had
controlling his pent-up anger, to the point where he considered running
away from his adopted home or killing himself. Only in 1984, when he
began to speak publicly about his experiences, including fighting
alongside the Khmer Rouge and committing atrocities of his own, did
Chorn-Pond begin to heal.
Chorn-Pond sat for an interview in the offices of US District Court
Chief Judge Mark Wolf, a close family friend. He and Wolf met 20 years
ago, through Wolf’s work with worldwide refugee organizations. While in
Lowell, Chorn-Pond and Matthew Wolf, the judge’s son, helped launch
Light of Cambodian Children, an educational and advocacy organization
serving the city’s large Cambodian-American population.
Wolf stays in close touch with Chorn-Pond — “my other son,” judge
Wolf calls him — and says Chorn-Pond’s willingness to share his story
has global importance, beyond what it means in terms of its personal
therapeutic value.
“In my experience, Jewish Holocaust survivors will talk about what
happened, but Cambodian survivors are remarkably unwilling to,” said
Wolf, who has helped sponsor a photo exhibit of Cambodian war refugees
on display at the John Joseph Moakley United States Courthouse. “This
book gives a generation of Cambodian-Americans their story, in a way
they probably have not heard from their parents.”
Many young people who have read the book or hear him speak react by
openly weeping, Chorn-Pond says, a response that allows him to grieve —
again — for all he has seen, done, and lost. Nightmares, headaches, and
stomach ulcers are part of that legacy, he adds, calling his guilt “the
tiger in my heart” that he must tame.
A slightly built man with soft brown eyes, Chorn-Pond noted that many
young Cambodian-Americans whose families survived the Khmer Rouge have
drifted into gang activity, or worse, as they have struggled to
assimilate into a different culture. He saw the human cost firsthand in
his work as youth program coordinator for Lowell’s Cambodian Mutual
Assistance Association, where his work focused on gang members and
antiviolence initiatives.
“That’s why I think this story could help, not only American children
but their parents, too,” Chorn-Pond reflected. “And not just Cambodian
refugees but refugees from other countries” who want to share their
stories “before they die.”
His humanitarian work has earned Chorn-Pond numerous honors,
including a Reebok Human Rights Award and Kohl Foundation International
Peace Prize. He counts among his friends and supporters Jimmy Carter,
Nelson Mandela, Bruce Springsteen, and Peter Gabriel.
Yet his greatest pleasure, he says, is finding and nurturing young
musicians who are reclaiming a part of his homeland’s heritage.
Ten years ago, Chorn-Pond left Lowell and moved back to Cambodia,
building himself a house outside Phnom Penh on land donated to him. In
that house live eight orphaned Cambodian children whom he is training as
musicians and musical ambassadors and taking them to remote areas of
the country — still dangerous travel, due to land mines and other
threats — to give free concerts.
Why is music so important? Because, according to Chorn-Pond, 90
percent of the artists and musicians alive in Cambodia in the 1970s were
targeted for murder. His family owned an opera company, one reason they
were driven from their village by soldiers and dispersed to the
countryside, where most of his relatives either vanished or perished.
Back then, it was his ability to play the flute that helped keep
Chorn-Pond alive. Today, he says, Cambodian children enter a world that
would have no music unless efforts were made to preserve it. That’s the
mission of Cambodian Living Arts, an organization he founded in 1998.
“If nothing else,” he said, “at least they’ll have music in their lives.”
Try BostonGlobe.com today and get two weeks FREE.Joseph P. Kahn can be reached at jkahn@globe.com.
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