University life is filled with opportunities to learn and grow, often in ways no one can anticipate. Who can say what will have the most influence on you during your time here. A word from a professor may alter the direction of your studies. A line in an assigned reading may stun you. A discussion in class may anger or arouse you. A banner in the Campus Center may halt you in your tracks.
Eight plus years ago my daughter was on her way from San Francisco to visit us here in Connecticut when she met a man who had worked at the Nuremberg Trials. From that brief, unexpected meeting came a journey that culminated in her movie about a Cambodian family’s search for truth and justice, “Out of the Poison Tree.” Everyone who supported her along the way—family, friends, even strangers—became a part of this larger community that now knows about the Cambodian genocide and its aftermath.
And this is what I find so exciting about teaching here at Fairfield. Being part of both the larger university learning community and the smaller one in each of my classes places me right in the middle of all these opportunities to learn and grow. I never know which one of you will transform me—how my perspective may change because of something you say or do.
Like me, you may sometimes find yourself challenged both intellectually and emotionally. Learning can be uncomfortable, especially when the content is controversial or ugly or unpleasant. This is the double-edged sword of knowledge. Once we learn something, be it a fact about long-ago events or a disaster that is unfolding right in front of us, we can’t ever not know it again.
Now that we have read "Lucky Child," we can’t not know about what happened in Cambodia between 1975 and 1979 while the world was busy elsewhere. Her story demands that we examine not just the past but also what is happening now in places like Darfur, where ethnic cleansing and genocide have been going on for over four years. There is no better way to honor Luong’s story than to bear witness to and try to stop the atrocities of the present.
Gail
Gail Ostrow
Adjunct Instructor, English






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