A North Korean Refugee’s Journey - Pursuit of the Freedom to Learn
By Yukyung Lim
Yukyung is a participant of LiNK’s Intensive English Program (LIEP), designed to build the capacity of North Korean English speakers at the intermediate level. In partnership with the British Council, LIEP aims to cultivate participants’ communication and critical thinking skills in English. LIEP is complementary to our broader LiNK English Language Program (LELP), which supports speakers of all proficiency levels.
I was born in North Korea—a place where identities are imposed, voices are silenced, and dreams are tightly confined. There, schooling is not a pathway to opportunity but a means of indoctrination, designed to enforce obedience and suppress individuality. But thanks to my mother’s courage, I never had to undergo that system. She made the bold decision to keep me out of school in North Korea. At age eight, I escaped to China to reunite with her, beginning a journey that would define not only my identity but also my deep, lifelong yearning to learn.
In China, my mother obtained a false identity for me so I could enroll in school. That first day in a rural classroom marked the beginning of a different kind of life. I was behind, anxious, and constantly aware of our fragile situation.
For the first time, however, I was learning not to obey—but to think.
A year later, we moved to Beijing. There, I stepped into a world I had never imagined—one of academic rigor, intellectual freedom, and cultural diversity. It was in that environment that I first witnessed how learning can transform a person. Each lesson, each classroom conversation, opened doors not only to knowledge but also to self expression, confidence, and hope.
One winter afternoon in 2010, I was on my way to the bookstore, backpack heavy on my shoulders. Beijing was bleak and cold that year. Snowflakes fell softly, only to be crushed by cars and vanish into the grime of the streets. That scene reflected my life: I bore a name I couldn’t speak aloud, fears I couldn’t share, and a fragile existence that felt quietly lonely.
Inside the bookstore, warmth greeted me. I wandered through the aisles, searching for a quiet corner to rest. Then, I saw it—a book with a black-and-white cover, its portrait etched in solemn ink. The man’s composed expression exuded a power I longed for. I picked it up, almost unconsciously.
“I Have a Dream.”
“I have a dream that one day... people will not be judged by the color of their skin but by the content of their character.”
“This is the time to make real the promises of democracy.”
“We will not be satisfied until justice rolls down like waters and righteousness like a mighty stream.”
These weren’t just words. They were light, seeping through a crack I hadn’t known existed. In a world that had taught me to stay small and silent, they spoke to a part of me I had hidden away. For the first time, I felt truly seen—not for where I was from or what I looked like, but for my thoughts, my voice, and the quiet strength I carried within.
Later, after arriving in South Korea, I faced new challenges. Though I had returned to my cultural roots, I felt out of place. I was older than my classmates, unfamiliar with many social norms, and unsure of how to fit in. But with time, I began to build friendships and navigate this new society. Again, learning was central—it provided not just academic skills but also the social space to grow and belong.
During university, I studied abroad in Texas. It was my first experience in a Western classroom. I was struck by the openness, the individuality, and the value placed on diverse opinions. Being among students from different backgrounds showed me how perspectives can differ—and how that difference enriches everyone.
Wherever I was—in China, Korea, or the United States—the classroom was where I grew the most. It was where I stepped outside my comfort zone, gained confidence, and slowly came to understand who I was becoming.
Across all these countries, I’ve developed not just a global perspective but a deep appreciation for the transformative power of learning. In each setting, the classroom became both a battlefield and a sanctuary. I struggled, but I also discovered. I learned new languages, absorbed new worldviews, and came to realize that I was more than a refugee or survivor. I was a thinker, a student, and a human being with agency.
And then I understood something deeper: My story is rare—but it shouldn’t be. There are still millions of children in North Korea growing up without the right to question, to dream, or to imagine a world beyond their borders. They deserve more than silence or sympathy. They deserve the same chance I had—to envision a different future and be equipped to pursue it.
That’s why I’m sharing my story through Liberty in North Korea. Because stories hold power. They build bridges, shatter stereotypes, and create connections.
North Korean people are not just victims. They are potential scholars, leaders, creators, and changemakers—if only they are given the freedom to grow.
My dream is to one day build a global school for children who, like me, come from hardship but brim with promise. I want to help others discover the same sense of identity and possibility that learning gave me. Until then, I will continue to advocate, teach, and connect.
If you’re reading this, I hope you’ll join me. Learn more. Speak up. Share stories. Support organizations like LiNK that are fighting to empower North Korean people with freedom, dignity, and opportunity.
Because when you invest in a child’s education, you’re not only changing one life—you’re challenging an entire system and planting seeds for a freer world.
Opportunities like LiNK’s Intensive English Program (LIEP) are helping North Koreans succeed in resettlement, reach their goals, and lead change on this issue. Your support can help us continue to make an impact in the lives of North Korean refugees.
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North Korean Soldiers in Russia-Ukraine War
Insights from LiNK’s Chief Strategy Officer, Sokeel Park
Since the end of last year, there have been multiple credible reports of a significant number of North Korean troops being killed and wounded while fighting against Ukrainian forces in Kursk. More recently, there have been media interviews with two North Korean POWs' being held in Ukraine and reports of additional reinforcements being sent to Russia. Kursk is a Russian region bordering Ukraine where Ukrainian forces have held territory since last summer, aiming to change the dynamics of the war and hold a bargaining chip for peace negotiations.
These North Korean soldiers were sent to Russia by Kim Jong Un last autumn as part of his support for Putin’s war. In return, Russia is thought to be providing North Korea with oil, military technology, food and cash.
Kim Jong Un’s Goals and How The World Can Respond
Since the first reports of this unprecedented deployment of over 10,000 North Korean troops to a foreign war we have been in discussions with the Ukrainian Embassy in Seoul, the US government, and Ukrainian civil society representatives regarding policy recommendations and potential responses.
Whilst it is clear that Kim Jong Un does not care about the tragic loss of life of young North Korean men in the trenches of Kursk, he does care about maintaining control over North Korean people’s information environment.
At every opportunity we will continue to encourage relevant governments to increase information access initiatives with strategic messaging targeting North Korean troops in Russia, overseas North Koreans, and audiences inside North Korea. The objectives are to decrease North Korean soldiers’ willingness to fight for Putin, encourage surrender and defection, prevent avoidable loss of life, and increase political costs for Kim Jong Un to continue his military support for Putin.
Treatment of North Korean POWs
We also call on the media to protect the rights, dignity and identity security of any captured North Korean POWs who may be made available for interviews. The North Korean military does not educate its soldiers on its rights as POWs, and information released through such interviews may endanger the soldiers themselves and family members back in North Korea. The Geneva Convention also protects POWs against being subject to public curiosity, meaning interviews must be truly voluntary with fully informed consent, and not exploit the POWs status or conditions. We have discussed these issues directly with relevant journalists, but it is regrettable that in the race to be first some media’s ethical standards have dropped.
The Future of North Korea
The North Korean government’s threats to international security are real, and they dominate the news headlines regarding the country. But we should remember that the North Korean soldiers dying on the battlefield come from the same communities as North Koreans that have come to freedom with us, are now enthusiastically learning English in Seoul, advocating for North Korean human rights at the UN, and working with us to challenge the North Korean government’s control over information.
It will only be when North Korea opens up and all North Korean people gain their basic freedoms that North Korea can have leadership that values North Korean lives. When that happens all of these issues, including the North Korean government’s threats to international security, can be resolved. Thank you for your ongoing support for this vision.
You can learn about human rights violations in the North Korean military in this report by our colleagues at NKDB. Download the full report at the bottom of the page.
