Every now and again someone experiences something that for a brief moment, causes their world to stop spinning, brings everything into focus and then forever changes life as they know it. Some keep these transformative events private; others share with friends. And then there are the unsuspecting crusaders who feel compelled not only to share their story with the entire world, but also to act on what they’ve seen, because quite simply -- it’s just not OK not to. Such is the tale of Falling Whistles founder, Sean Carasso.

About 10 months ago, the 27-year-old from Los Angeles accompanied his friend Blake Mycoskie of TOMS Shoes on a light-spirited educational humanitarian trip to the Democratic Republic of the Congo. But like any story worth hearing, something went awry. Carasso came across a military camp for young boys. Boys, all under age 15, who had been abducted from their homes, beaten, forced to kill. Boys living in their own excrement and digging ditches for 20 hours a day. And most horrifying of all, boys who not yet old enough to hold guns, who are given whistles and put on the front lines as human shields: the Falling Whistles.

That evening through tear-filled eyes, Sean blogged about what he had just seen, and with little faith left in humanity, forwarded it to family and friends. He had no idea his words were about to inspire thousands to say, “What can I do?” Since then, Falling Whistles has worked tirelessly to address the immediate needs of the children in Congo. And to ensure those efforts are not made in vain, Carasso’ is determined to assemble the coalition that could very well end the world’s most massive conflict.

The Thing That Changed Everything

Q: Tell me how the Falling Whistles journey started.

A: Blake and I went on this fun let’s-go-change-the-world thing. Young people out to have a good time, drinking every night. Just having fun. We give 50,000 shoes away. It’s actually a pretty extraordinary moment covering someone’s feet with shoes. It builds connectivity in people in some very interesting ways. Sitting on the floor, covering someone’s feet -- its kind of a Jesus washing people’s feet thing. It’s interesting. I don’t think I expected that.

Q: Is this where you came across the boys?

A: I really wanted to get lost. There’s that great quote, “If it exists on a map, it doesn’t really exist.” So I went wandering, got lost. I ended up in Northern Uganda and then Congo while Blake stayed in South Africa. I’d heard that the biggest war in the world is in Congo. I really didn’t know any details, and knew that if that was the case -- if the biggest war in the world is happening and I didn’t know anything about it, that was a problem in and of itself. I needed to go learn. So the idea was to go in for a five-day exploratory trip to start learning, asking questions, get as good of an understanding as I could in a few days and make some contacts so I could stay in touch. And at the end of those five days, we ended up discovering this illegal prison for kids. It was basically a military prison.

Q: That must have been an unbelievably powerful moment.

A: That day, the "Falling Whistles day," was in a moment of total and complete vulnerability. One of those moments when everything stops and it’s like, "OK, this we have to do something about." I haven’t really gotten to a place to where I can explain it. My ambitions, my desires, my dreams -- all went away.

Q: I’d imagine so. Now how do you go back to L.A. and drink beer and eat fish tacos?

A: One-hundred percent. It’s never quite the same. It sounds so cliché but its reality is what it is. Lauren Hill says, "fantasy is what we want, but reality is what we need." It was one of those moments of crushing reality coming into full perspective. This is the world we live in: half the world is un-free; half the world is free. I’ve lived the life of half. Then there’s this whole other half I don’t know anything about and now I’m seeing it face to face. And at this moment in time I can’t do anything about it, but I know that doesn’t always have to be the case.

Q: What were your next steps?

A: We ended up exposing the prison to the U.N., the kids got pulled out and ultimately the prison got shut down. It was a pretty intense day. And I wrote that blog that night, just through tears. Bawling. Thinking no one’s ever gonna read this. No one’s gonna care. What are we gonna do? Just out of this sense of despair. I sent it out to 150 friends and family and it just got forwarded and forwarded and forwarded. Tens of thousands of people read it. We got this overwhelming [feeling] of: what do we do? That day put me onto this wild ride. I ended up staying for another few weeks.

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