A North Korean’s Promise to his Father | Joseph’s Story: Part 1
Most of you may know me as Joseph, but my Korean name is Kim Kwang Jin. It means, “walking forward with brightness.” My father gave me this name, full of the hopes and expectations many fathers have for their sons.
But hope is a hard thing to have, especially in a country like North Korea, and as a child, I certainly didn’t make it any easier for my father to believe in my brightness. Even in elementary school, I was a poor student.
The first time I remember making my father proud was through my cooking, not from studying. That day, he and my older sister had gone to the mountains to collect firewood. It was getting close to midnight, but they still hadn’t come home, so I decided to make dinner for them—rice and kimchi soup. At the end of dinner, my father said, Son, this is the best rice I’ve ever had. I had never made rice before, and I knew it was undercooked. That night I realized how much my father loves me. I promised myself that next time I would make him better rice.
But next time never came. When I was 12, my father died of starvation.
To save us from the same fate, my mother and sister left for China in search of work and food. My mom ended up in a North Korean prison. But my sister never returned. Within one year, I had lost my entire family. I was alone—helpless, homeless, and orphaned on the streets.
After three years of barely surviving, I decided to escape. The journey would be risky, but staying in North Korea would be a risk too. I knew I could die of starvation. So I took a chance. Unlike most people, I decided to escape during the daytime, thinking that the border guards would become complacent because why would anyone be crazy enough to cross the border in the middle of the day with nowhere to hide?
Fortunately, I made it to China without being caught.
In China, I slept in the mountains and went to towns begging for food to survive. One day, while crossing a bridge in Yanji, I remember it started to snow. Everyone around me started walking fast.
I remember being so envious because walking fast must have meant they had a home they were rushing toward. I, too, wanted to walk fast, but I had no home and no one waiting for me.
Later on, I was lucky enough to be taken in by a halmoni, an older grandmother. She fed me and let me live with her for six months but I still lived in hiding, fearful that at any moment I could be arrested and sent back to North Korea. The halmoni eventually connected me with Liberty in North Korea and I had an opportunity to escape China and be the first North Korean refugee minor to come to the United States.
I was placed with a foster family and began attending an American high school, which felt a bit ridiculous at first. Even in North Korea, I was an F student. I barely finished elementary school so jumping straight into high school in a foreign country felt overwhelming.
One evening, my foster mom made chicken wings. They were so good that I wanted more, but I realized there wasn’t enough for everyone to have seconds. So I held back, thinking no one would notice. As I stared at my plate, my foster dad placed his last wing in front of me. I looked up, and he smiled, urging me to eat without saying a word. In that silence, I felt the depth of his love and care.
At that moment, I thought of my biological father. Even during our hardest times, he used to share what little food he had with me. I wished more than anything that I could cook for him one last time and share one more meal together.
That night, I promised myself that I would study hard and go to college. I believed that was the best way to honor my father’s sacrifice and make him proud.
Continue reading part 2 of Joseph’s story
Years before Joseph would reach freedom, talk on the TED stage, write a memoir, and pursue his master’s at Harvard Kennedy School, Joseph’s father saw the brightness in his son. While he may not have been able to witness Joseph reach these milestones, none of it would have been possible without the depth of his love that became the foundation for Joseph’s life.
His family’s support, both in North Korea and in the US, has given Joseph the confidence to believe in and fulfill his brightness.
When recalling his past, warm childhood memories and gripping hardship are shared in the same breath. Joseph often says that North Korea is not a land of darkness, merely a land with darkness. Both can exist. But what matters is what we choose to focus on—the shadow cast by the regime or the brightness of the North Korean people.
Help more North Korean refugees reach freedom and share their brightness with the world.
Creating home: An Interview with our U.S. Resettlement Assistance Manager
While the majority of the North Koreans who come through our rescue network wish to resettle in South Korea, a small group choose to come to the United States. Drawn by family, friends, and new opportunities, they resettle all across the country. Because resettlement to the U.S. comes with its own set of unique challenges—mainly the language barrier—we have programs specially designed to help North Koreans find their footing in their first few years. Our U.S. resettlement manager Kris explains the details of the resettlement process and her work with LiNK in more detail.
Describe a normal day at your job.
What’s cool about my job is that no work day is the same. From helping a North Korean register for school to purchasing bikes for a family (both are things I have done very recently), every day is different. I travel quite often to visit refugees and to meet with partner organizations. I also spend a lot of time researching government and community benefits, changes in immigration laws, and educational resources. I will say that the two services I provide almost every day are translation and interpretation.
What do you enjoy most about your job?
The North Korean friends we work with are pretty awesome. It really is my privilege to be able to work with such an amazing group of people. I get to help them but I also learn so much. My job never gets boring. They challenge me to do more and be better. My colleagues at LiNK are pretty cool, too. =)
What is the most difficult part about your job? What was most surprising about the work you do?
The number of North Korean refugees who have resettled in the US is pretty small so people tend to put them in one group and form generalized opinions about them. But what I learned over the years and what some people might find surprising is that each person is so unique in their backgrounds, family dynamics, worldviews, reasons for defection, life goals and dreams. It’s challenging to be able to assess and meet their differing needs and help them reach not only self-sufficiency but also the eventual self-actualization and fulfillment. But I’m proud of the individualized and flexible case management that we have been able to offer to the people we serve. As we expand our work, I hope we will continue to have capacity to offer individualized care.
What are some of the challenges that our North Korean friends face as they resettle here in the US?
There are so many. Most common ones would be language and cultural barriers. Access to transportation is a huge challenge because although many states offer driver’s license exams in Korean, there are some that don’t, so the refugees have to learn English first in order to take the driver’s license exam. Some of the more recent and regionally-specific challenges are lack of affordable housing and immediate employment opportunities.
What are some of the challenges in running a North Korean refugee post-resettlement program here in the United States?
The fact that the people we work with are scattered all over the country makes it difficult to do anything in-person. Geography has always been the biggest challenge for me because I’d love for us to be more accessible to the refugees and do more in-person programs with them. Most refugee agencies serve local communities because it’s difficult to be a direct service provider from afar. We have to be creative to stay connected to the people we serve. One good thing that the pandemic did was normalizing virtual communication, and we were able to successfully execute an entrepreneurship program and a mentorship program virtually during the pandemic.
What was one of your most memorable events in this role?
Not long after one of our clients died in a car accident, I flew out to see her minor children. I knew that no words would bring comfort to them at that point. I took them out to see a movie and we went to get our nails done. Of course, we got some boba afterwards. Then per their request, we went out to a hot pot restaurant for dinner, and there we ran into some people from their church. The people assured me that the children will be taken care of and the community will be there for them. I went out there to bring some comfort for the children, but instead, I was the one that was comforted more than anyone. It’s just one of those days that I’ll always remember.
What is something you wish the world knew about North Korea or the North Korean people?
Maybe I can just say something about the North Korean refugees, rather than the entire country of North Korea or the North Korean people inside the country. North Korean refugees, in their defection and resettlement process, have gone through so many unimaginable obstacles and have overcome them with such incredible resilience and determination. I believe that they have this amazing potential to overcome any barriers and to succeed in their new life. I hope the whole world understands this and welcomes the refugees with open arms.
