The 2019 LiNK Advocacy Fellows: North Korean Defectors Raising Their Voices

Meet the new class of LiNK Advocacy Fellows! They are already adjusting to life in the U.S. and learning how to become stronger storytellers and better advocates. All four of the AFers have incredible stories they want to share with the world. Here’s a little bit about each of them and what they hope to accomplish during the fellowship! Stay tuned for updates throughout their time here!

Joy
Joy was born in 1991 in Musan, North Korea and escaped when she was 18 years old. When she reached China, the broker who had helped her escape demanded that Joy repay her immediately for her assistance. When Joy couldn’t afford to pay, the broker took her from village to village, trying to sell her as a bride.After three humiliating days, an older Chinese farmer paid $3,000 for her. She tried to find a way to escape but soon became pregnant with the man’s child and gave birth to a daughter.
In 2013, Joy was introduced to LiNK’s network in China and was finally able to reach safety. She is now a university student studying social work in South Korea and wants to dedicate her life to helping families. “I want to be able to share my story in English without a translator’s help. I want to communicate freely and express my thoughts and ideas with others. When I return to South Korea in late November, I want to be able to look back at my time in the U.S. and feel empowered and proud of my work.”
Read more about Joy’s story here.

Ilhyeok
Ilhyeok is from Saetbyeol, North Korea and was born in 1995 at the start of the famine. Growing up, Ilhyeok often missed school to help his family make ends meet by fishing and farming. In order to feed the family, Ilhyeok’s father became a broker who helped defectors living in South Korea send money to their relatives inside North Korea. But when Ilhyeok was only 12, his father was caught and imprisoned for illegally owning a Chinese cell phone. Even after he was released, the authorities kept the family under close surveillance.
Well aware of the risks they would face if they tried to escape, but dreaming of a brighter future, one night llhyeok’s father suggested that the entire family leave their homeland in search of a better life. They fled that very night, and after a long and difficult journey made it to South Korea in 2011.
Ilhyeok is now a senior Political Science and Diplomacy major at Hankuk University of Foreign Studies in Seoul and wants to work for the United Nations one day.“I want to improve my English skills because it is the international language. I want to be able to communicate with everyone so that I can raise awareness about what’s happening in North Korea. And I also want to meet new people from different backgrounds.

Dasom
Dasom was born in 1993 in Gangwon Province, North Korea. When she was seven years old, her family relocated to Hamgyung Province. Before Dasom was even born, her grandfather had been accused of being a spy and was taken away that same day, never to be seen again. Because of North Korea’s system of collective punishment, her grandfather’s alleged crimes severely restricted the jobs she could get after graduating high school. Dasom had no other choice than to join a workers’ group doing manual labor for the government.
After being sexually assaulted at work, Dasom vowed to leave North Korea. She escaped with the help of a North Korean broker but was almost sold to a Chinese broker upon reaching China. Fortunately, a group of North Korean defectors she met connected her with LiNK and she was rescued soon after. She resettled in South Korea in 2014 and dreams of becoming a florist.“I want to be able to look back after the AF program ends and reminisce on all the good memories. I also want a lot of people to remember my story and who I am as a person.”

Jeongyol
Jeongyol was born in 1998 and grew up in Pyongsong, close to North Korea’s capital city Pyongyang. Jeongyol’s father began teaching him math at a young age and by elementary school, he had mastered the middle school math curriculum. In high school, his extraordinary abilities earned him a spot on North Korea’s team for the International Mathematical Olympiad (IMO). In his first IMO in Colombia, Jeongyol won the silver medal. He went on to win the silver medal at the next three IMO competitions.
His success brought the attention of the North Korean government and they offered him a job. He asked for a deferral until after he was finished with his IMO competitions, but realized he’d eventually be forced to work for the regime. At 18, Jeongyol knew that the international competition in Hong Kong would be his last opportunity to defect while abroad. On the last day, while everyone was packing up to return home, he snuck out of the hotel and sought asylum at the South Korean consulate where his dramatic defection made international news.
Jeongyol resettled in South Korea in 2016 and is now a freshman at Seoul National University.“I want to meet people from diverse backgrounds and learn from them. I also want to share my story with as many people as possible.”
Returning Home to a Free North Korea | A Glimpse of Reunification in 2045
By: Eunsook Jang
Eunsook is a 2024 LiNK US Scholarship grantee, a Fulbright Scholar, and a North Korean defector pursuing a master’s degree in international development at Brandeis University, where she focuses on post-conflict, economic, and human development. She holds a bachelor’s degree in political science and international peace from Korea University.

In the spring of 2045, on a flight from Incheon to Pyongyang, Emma's hands tremble. Her husband Sam reaches over and, steadily, holds them without a word. She turns to the window and stares into the pale clouds below the wing.
“I’ve waited 30 years for this day,” she whispers. “But now that I’m here… it doesn’t feel real. I hope this isn’t a dream.”
“Maybe it’s both,” Sam replies. “The dream became real.”
She closes her eyes. In 2015, at just fifteen years old, she crossed the frozen Yalu River in a dark March morning, leaving without saying a proper goodbye to her mother. That guilt, its intensity, has never faded, not even after thirty years. It simply learns to live quietly beside her.
“Will Mom recognize me?” she asks. “We parted when I was fifteen. I’m forty-five now.”
“She will,” Sam answers. “How could a mother not recognize her daughter?”
Emma says nothing. Will I... be able to recognize her? She does not say it aloud this time.
An announcement comes through the cabin speakers: "This is the first return flight for North Korean defectors to their hometowns. We know how much you have endured. We will carry you safely home."
It is a rare moment of comfort from a South Korean voice. Moments later, the plane lifts into the sky.
An hour later, the plane lands in Pyongyang. Emma weeps quietly, overwhelmed by the thought that across so short a distance, lives in the South and the North had been so utterly, irreconcilably different. For thirty years, she had not been able to cross it, that gap, so small.
From Pyongyang, the journey to Hyesan continues by bus. As the skyline of Pyongyang passes past the window, its taller buildings, its broad avenues, Emma allows herself the fragile hope: perhaps Hyesan has developed too.
After five hours on the road, the bus arrives at Hyesan Station. The apartments and the lay of the land are almost entirely unchanged from when she had left thirty years earlier, as if time had refused to move, as if it had been waiting for her. Emma found herself hoping the same might be true of her mother.
A thirty minutes' walk from the station: that is where her mother's house is.
As if drawn by a magnet, her feet start moving on their own.
Sam asks if they are going the right way. Without hesitation, "Yes," Emma replies. "I used to walk this road every day as a child. It’s still in my body."
He points to a bus queue down the street. "There's a bus queue over there. Want to take it part of the way?" She shakes her head gently. "If you don't mind, I'd like to walk." "Then we’ll walk," he replies without hesitation. Emma feels another surge of gratitude, grips on his arm and follows her memory home.
Since Emma left her hometown in 2015, the North Korean regime has conducted ten more nuclear tests as of 2045. And yet the face of this neighborhood has not changed by a single detail. The freedom and human rights that should have been the people's return on those tests have been vaporized into the air.
They arrive at a fork in the road. To the left, an alley leads toward the house. A familiar-looking house comes into view, enclosed by a wooden fence. She stops and stands motionless. It is the house, it is her house.
Several minutes pass. Then the door opens. Emma feels her breath catch. For a second, she forgets how to move.
After thirty years, she is here.
This is what the micropolitics of reunification looks like. Grand narratives, speeches, and legal texts may provide its official language, but its lived realities lie in moments, in feelings, like this: a mother and daughter recognizing each other after thirty years apart.
Author’s note: I dedicate this piece to my father in South Korea, who has never once wavered in encouraging my studies, as if realizing through me the freedom to pursue the dreams that were taken from him. And to my mother, who remains in North Korea: This piece is my proof that your daughter has not turned away from your suffering, but is working, in her own small way, to fight against it. I hope to see you, even if only in my dreams tonight. I love and miss you beyond my expression.
–
Eunsook is a participant of the LiNK English Language Program (LELP), which serves to not only help North Korean defectors build confidence and skills in English, but develop their capacity as advocates for this issue. To that end, we partnered with select LELP “columnists” to write and polish personal essays through multiple rounds of external feedback and revision. Our goal is to have more North Koreans share their stories directly and lead efforts to change the narrative.
We believe the North Korean people can achieve their liberty in our lifetime.
Opportunities like LELP invest in the people building that future now. Help more North Koreans find their voice, reach their goals, and lead change on this issue.




