Arn Chorn Pond's Story

Last week, the Poly community had the honor of hearing from Cambodian Genocide survivor, master musician, and founder of Cambodian Living Arts Arn Chorn Pond, who came to Poly to present his book Never Fall Down (which I am planning on reading) to sophomores studying it in English class and to tell his story at a GIP Night. Arn was born into a family of Cambodian musicians in 1966, and he was just nine years old when the Khmer Rouge, a Communist/nationalist military bent on turning Cambodia into the agrarian Republic of Campuchea, violently seized power. Pond speaks fondly of the days before Khmer Rouge, when he would eat ice cream with his younger siblings and listen to the rock and roll that was a central part of Cambodia's thriving music scene.

All of this changed with the coming of the Khmer Rouge, who, led by the despotic Pol Pot, forced all of Cambodia's citizens out of the cities and into the countryside, where they proceeded to massacre anyone who countered their vision of a perfect agrarian Campuchea—whether because they displayed intelligence, had lighter skin, or even wore eyeglasses. Pond was able to survive by playing the flute in a band whose purpose was to distract prisoners from the sounds of killing, but after being transferred into combat as a child soldier, Arn defected and fled halfway across his country on foot to a refugee camp in Thailand.

At the camp, Arn was adopted by American missionary Peter Pond, who brought Arn back to his home in New Hampshire. Though Arn was grateful to have escaped the genocide in his country, he was driven into a deep depression by social isolation, racism, and loneliness in the United States. It was only through the process of beginning to open up to others about his past that he found purpose—and peace.

Arn currently works promoting and supporting traditional musical artists in his home country, and he travels the world sharing his music and his story. I was blown away by the incredibly optimistic and empathetic way that Arn sees the world and the people around him. I believe it is through survival of the horrors of genocide—and not in spite of them—that Arn projects such a radiant joy and remarkable strength of character.