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Love Over War: Kim Phuc Phan Thi shares how compassion can overcome even the deepest scars

President Sue Ott Rowlands presents Kim Phuc Phan Thi with the Pearl S. Buck Award

President Sue Ott Rowlands presented Kim Phuc Phan Thi with the Pearl S. Buck Award on Wednesday, Sept. 10.

Kim Phuc Phan Thi smiles from the stage, telling her story.For many years, Kim Phuc Phan Thi resented The Terror of War, the photograph that made her famous. 

Phan Thi, the recipient of Randolph’s 2025-2026 Pearl S. Buck Award, was 9 years old in 1972 when she was immortalized in Nick Ut’s Pulitzer Prize-winning photograph, which depicted her running naked in agony following a napalm strike during the Vietnam War.

“I lost everything, physically and emotionally,” she said this fall during a visit to Randolph’s campus with Ut. “I had to deal with nightmares and trauma all the time. I wanted to disappear.” 

Phan Thi spent 14 months in the hospital after the bombing, recovering from severe burns on her neck, back, and arm. Once she was released, the physical pain was still as unbearable as the emotional turmoil. She was self-conscious about her scars and worried she’d never have a normal life. 

Then her father showed her Ut’s photograph, which was attributed with hastening the end of the Vietnam War. She was humiliated, and for many years, hated the image. 

Nick Ut, Sue Ott Rowlands, and Kim Phuc Phan Thi sit on the stage in Thoresen Theatre during a special Q&A

“That photograph was a curse,” she said. “It followed me everywhere, a constant reminder of the day my life was shattered. I felt trapped by it.” 

That feeling would only intensify when, in 1982, the Vietnamese government forced her to leave medical school, a long-held dream, and started using her in propaganda campaigns. 

“They found me and treated me like a trophy, using my personal life for their own propaganda,” said Phan Thi, whose movements were closely monitored by the government. 

She was eventually sent to Cuba to study. Still under the thumb of the Vietnamese government, she was lonely and isolated, searching for a larger purpose to her life. 

She found that in religion, and she eventually converted to Christianity. 

“That faith has really helped me,” Phan Thi said. “I didn’t care anymore about what I’d lost. I cared about what I had.” 

But a true change of heart, and her relationship to The Terror of War, didn’t come until the early 1990s, after she’d defected to Canada with her husband and given birth to their eldest son. 

Kim Phuc Phan Thi stands behind a podium, speaking to the audience

Journalists had discovered her presence in Toronto, and, once again, the photo was on the front pages of newspapers. 

“I was holding my first child and looking at that picture, when something in my heart–deep down in my heart–changed,” she said. 

“I didn’t want anything to happen to my child, my boy, or any other children around the world,” she continued. “I couldn’t run away anymore. I had to do something different and make the world a better place for my child, for the next generation. I accepted that picture as a powerful gift.” 

Phan Thi, who has spent 30 years as a UNESCO Goodwill Ambassador for the Culture of Peace, founded The KIM Foundation International, a nonprofit dedicated to helping child victims of war, violence, and poverty. 

She holds eight honorary doctorates and has been honored with many awards, including the 2004 Order of Ontario and the 2019 Dresden Peace Prize.

Her 2017 memoir, Fire Road, has been translated into 10 languages.

During her September visit to campus, Phan Thi and Ut, who worked for the Associated Press when he took the photo, each gave their accounts of what happened that fateful day in 1972. 

Nick Ut speaks onstage, sitting in an orange chairUt talked about how after he took the photo, he and his driver took Phan Thi and other wounded children to the hospital. There was no one left to save the children, and he knew she would die if he left her on that road.

They have remained friends over the years, and today she affectionately refers to him as “Uncle Ut.”

Phan Thi once dreamed of being a doctor, helping others the way she was during her long hospital stay as a child. 

She may not be in the medical field, but she’s found her own way to do that work. Her foundation has funded and supported projects all over the world, from orphanages and primary schools to refugee camps and health centers. 

She continues telling her story, encouraging people to look for the humanity in each other, to have the courage to forgive, and to use their voices to help those who are suffering. 

“I believe love, hope, and forgiveness are always more powerful than any kind of weapon,” she said. “With love, we can heal the future.” 

This story appears in the Fall 2025 issue of the College’s Magazine, “Vita Abundantior.” 

Kim Phuc Phan Thi poses for a photo with a student and her book, "Fire Road."

President Sue Ott Rowlands poses with Kim Phuc Phan Thi for a photo Nick Ut points his camera at the stage during an award ceremony A far away shot of the stage in Smith Hall Theatre, with a projection in the background with Kim Phuc Phan Thi's name on it Photographer Nick Ut stands in the auditorium of Smith Hall Theatre, his hands clasped together as the crowd applauds him Kim Phuc touches her arm, showing where she was burned by a napalm strike as a child. Nick Ut, Sue Ott Rowlands, and Kim Phuc Phan Thi sit on the stage in Thoresen Theatre during a special Q&A

 

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