Arn and Mek together after the founding of Cambodia Living Arts

Arn Chorn-Pond, who survived the Killing Fields of Cambodia, will perform at the Lincoln Center on April 11 along with his beloved music teacher, Master Mek, the man who kept him alive during the reign of the Khmer Rouge. This free event marks the fulfillment of Arn’s dream – to showcase Cambodia for its arts, not for its tragic history.

I will describe the remarkable bond between these to men and to explain the complicated path that led to their reunion long after the war, when they each given the other up for lost.

Arn and Mek will first play one of the propaganda songs that were forced upon them by the Khmer Rouge. Then they will perform a traditional Cambodian song they sang secretly sang to keep each other’s spirits up during the reign of the Khmer Rouge, an act that would have been punishable by death.

They will be followed by a performance by The Waterek Ensemble, a traveling group of musicians who bring live music to isolated parts of Cambodia, including communities of former Khmer Rouge soldiers.

This evening is sure to be an emotional high point in a month-long celebration of Cambodian arts at venues all around New York – BAM, the Joyce Theatre, The Rubin Museum and The Asia Society.

The April 11 event will take place at the David Rubenstein Atrium, a public space inside Lincoln Center on Broadway between 62nd and 63rd streets.

Please click on the link below to see Beth’s beautiful and timely presentation:

publishingperspectiveskeynote

Arn Chorn-Pond and the music teacher whose life he saved during the reign of the Khmer Rouge

Arn Chorn-Pond, who survived the Killing Fields of Cambodia by playing music, will perform at Lincoln Center in New York this spring, along with his beloved music teacher, Master Mek. This free event, sponsored by Target, marks the fulfillment of Arn’s dream – to showcase Cambodia for its arts, not for its tragic history.

Arn, the subject of Never Fall Down, Mek and other artists will perform in the David Rubenstein Atrium and then I’ll join them for a panel discussion about how the arts can be a salvation for a man and his country.

Their performance is part of a month-long celebration of Cambodian arts at venues all around New York – BAM, the Joyce Theatre, The Rubin Museum and Lincoln center.  I’ll publish the full schedule for Season of Cambodia as soon as it is finished but wanted readers to know about this free event.

“Pond’s early life is an incredible story of survival against all odds, of innocence unduly robbed. By turns terrifying, heartbreaking and triumphant, ‘Never Fall Down’ is as likely to inspire tears as it is to stick with readers for a lifetime.”—Los Angeles Times

All wonderful books. But all written before the existence of the personal computer, the video game, the ATM, or Ritalin.

Before the widespread use of the birth control pill.

Before the Beatles appeared on Ed Sullivan.

Before the voting age was lowered to 18.

Before Martin Luther King Jr. gave his “I Have a Dream” speech.

Before AIDS, Facebook, or the Stonewall riots.

Surely it’s not too radical to suggest that Ms. Oates read a few books written in the past 50 years.

For one of this country’s leading writers and intellectuals, it was a shockingly obvious and lazy choice of books. And for someone of her stature, it was a missed opportunity to be generous to her fellow (contemporary) young adult writers.

It’s been a while since Joyce Carol Oates was a young adult. Cherry Ames was still a student nurse and Nancy Drew was driving her Roadster. But surely, since then she’s heard of Markus Zusak, Carolyn Coman, and John Green.

Then again, maybe not. After all, she’s the one who said that young  adult fiction “is just stripped-down adult fiction with more dialogue and less description.”

Flash forward to next Friday. Almost a year later, that same group is meeting for a reunion. To celebrate the pending publication of one student’s book. To celebrate one student whose book was selected for the prestigious Blue Bonnet award in Texas. To congratulate another student whose book has topped an Amazon.com contest for new writers. To celebrate one student’s decision to pursue an MFA. And to catch up on each other – and try to recreate the magic that we shared for those five days.

Somehow, I was lucky enough to draw a dozen talented, thoughtful, smart, well-read, funny, kind and just delightful students. Their work was consistently good, deep, and rich. And their feedback for each other was generous and consistently thoughtful. And not only did I have enough to say, we all agreed to squeeze in an extra session – and skip a trip to the beach – to discuss the ins and outs of publishing and to tackle all those questions aspiring writers are dying to ask. I also met with each student privately. It was a whirlwind schedule but a very rich and rewarding experience.

It was a very special week. We went deep in each session – because of the trust we had for each other. I knew I could count on the students to give positive, useful feedback to each other and they knew they could count on me to have enough publishing war stories to suit any occasion. We all came away inspired by each other and ready to run back to our computers to write more.

I was lucky enough to be invited back to the conference this summer. This time, the conference will last for a few extra days, giving students time to write in between workshop meetings and giving all of us more time for private meetings, for casual lunches, evening readings.

I’ve already heard a whoop of excitement via Facebook from one student who was accepted into the program and am hoping that this summer, with its more expansive schedule, will bring me into contact with another batch of talented and inspiring writers. I’ll put next year’s reunion in my date book now!

Mark your calendar now if you want to be part of a civilian uprising that will take place all over the United States.  But first, watch this video: http://www.youtube.com/user/invisiblechildreninc?feature=watch

It’s about a group of people using social media – as well as old-fashioned yard signs and bumper stickers – to catch one of the world’s biggest criminals.

Joseph Kony, head of the Lord’s Resistance Army, has been kidnapping children from Uganda and other parts of Central Africa and killing them.  He kills some outright – shooting them or beheading them right in front of their friends – to show them what will happen if they don’t join his army. He kills the rest by sending them into battle with submachine guns. He robs all of them of a normal childhood.

He’s been wanted by international courts for 20 years – but has managed to evade justice. But 2012 should be his downfall. Because of a viral campaign to make Kony famous in 2012. Or rather infamous. It’s a brilliant twist on the way we use social media. Rather than using Facebook, YouTube and Twitter Snookie-style, these activists are using it to make sure that Kony becomes just as big a household name. And, therefore, bring pressure on US and international leaders to commit to his capture and trial.

Their efforts will culminate on April 20^th (watch the video to find out how).

When I heard that, it occurred to me that April is also the month during which Pol Pot came to power in Cambodia in 1975. His regime, the Khmer Rouge, rounded up the entire population, sent them to work camps in the country and eventually killed one out of every four Cambodians. Like the boys in the Lord’s Resistance Army, my friend, Arn Chorn Pond, was forced participate in those atrocities when he was only 11 years old.  Pol Pot was able to succeed as the mastermind of that genocide because the world did nothing.

Now, we have all have a chance to do something about a war criminal in our midst.

When I saw this video, I finally understood what’s so great about social media. I got it. Now we can all change the world – without even leaving home.

Nicholas Kristof of The New York Times is right: this is a generation of activists, kids with a moral compass and a belief that they can – and must – change the world.

Here is the link to the story: http://rochesterhomepage.net/fulltext?nxd_id=296882

This means that if you look at any group of a dozen teenagers one of them is probably self-injuring – probably in secret. And certainly in pain.

My book, CUT, came out 10 years ago and librarians tell me it’s still one of the most requested – and also most stolen – books in the library. And while that’s good for sales, it’s very sad news for me as author.

Because I don’t understand why, after 10 years, we as a society haven’t figured out a way to stop this epidemic.

Researchers say that brain development may be a factor – that the area of the brain associated with impulse control and the ability to modify behavior may hold an answer. They also say many kids will go on self-injuring into adulthood if they don’t get treatment. They say this is not ‘just a phase’ that young people will grow out of.

So why haven’t we been able to stem this tide of violence?

Maybe it’s because it’s not the same kind of violence boys tend to engage in – violence directed at others. It’s violence directed at one of our most vulnerable and marginalized groups: teenage girls.

First, they took aim at the billboard companies – putting pressure on them to refuse to post these ads. Then they went to taxi services that drive trafficking victims from one motel to the other, from one ‘massage parlor’ to another – and take half their earnings. Then they targeted the landlords at these establishments asking them to refuse to rent to businesses that are merely fronts for the exploitation of young women.

This is courageous, sometimes dangerous work. And it needs to be done on an ongoing basis since traffickers change their routes and locations all the time. And it is work we could any of us can do with a phone call.

This week in New York, a survivor of trafficking will testify in favor of a plan to fine taxi drivers who knowingly transport trafficking victims.

Great strides have been made in fighting trafficking. But full justice will not be done unless we choke a part of the supply chain – which is right there in plain sight.