Challenges of Freedom
Four North Korean defectors' experiences of resettling to South Korea.
It was the greatest country in the world. Sure, sometimes they saw people die from starvation and heard rumors of people disappearing into prison camps, but it was like that everywhere. At least that’s what they were told. But as foreign media started to spill into the country, they realized it wasn’t like that everywhere; they weren’t living in the greatest country in the world. A better life was out there and they knew they needed to leave to find it.
Every year, many North Koreans risk their lives to escape one of the world’s most oppressive regimes. They trek through jungles and over mountains, terrified of being caught and sent back. Once they finally reach freedom, they start over. New cultures, new opportunities, new challenges.
Here are four of their stories.
Ill Yong
Ill Yong opens Google Maps, trying to find a satellite image of his childhood house. This always makes him homesick. When he zooms in on his house, a blurry gray square surrounded by snow, he remembers the nearby waterfall and the summer days he spent playing there. But he also remembers how hard it was living in North Korea. His family listened to illegal South Korean radio every night but had to keep it hidden from friends and neighbors. If caught, they could have been sent to a political prison camp or even executed.
Ill Yong resettled to South Korea in 2009 and, even though his family was with him, starting over in a new country was challenging. The everyday moments took adjusting to. His first time at a buffet, Ill Yong was so overwhelmed by the massive amount of food that he just took a small bowl of rice. The first time he tried to use an escalator he was so confused about what to do that he jumped on at the bottom and then jumped off at the top. Ill Yong has now been in South Korea for nine years and is studying to become a Human Rights lawyer. A lot has changed since he first arrived (he now knows how to get on an escalator) but he still thinks about his old home in North Korea and hopes to see it again in person one day.
Noel
Noel came to South Korea in 2010 with a shy personality and a strong North Korean accent. She wanted to blend quietly into her new culture, but people constantly asked where she was from. School was also a struggle. In North Korea, she had dropped out after the first grade to stay home and help her mother. What she did learn at school was of little help in her new life. She was used to curriculum that focused on the Kim family. Determined to catch up, she began reading lots of books.
Noel is currently studying to become a writer and is no longer behind in school. Her new challenge is figuring out what to do with her freedom. Living in North Korea, she just followed the regime and did whatever she was told. It was the only option. Now, faced with endless choices, she knows that there is a responsibility that comes with freedom, and she wants to use it wisely.
Jessie
Jessie was overwhelmed. She was by herself in an unfamiliar country. So much was unknown: how to get around, where to study, how to make new friends, and even where to buy groceries. She wasn’t used to this new culture’s rules and norms. The first time she heard someone publicly criticize the South Korean president she was stunned. Freely expressing any negative thoughts about the regime was unheard of in North Korea.
Jessie now understands her new culture and loves her freedoms, especially being able to watch whatever dramas she wants without fear of punishment. South Korea has become her home, but she still longs for the day she can return to North Korea. Her parents have both passed away and she wants to go and pay her respects in person.
Geum Hyok
Geum Hyok stood by himself in an empty apartment wondering if he made a mistake. He had no friends and no family there to reassure him. Feeling lonely but determined to make a life for himself, he started classes at Korea University where he met people who were kind to him and checked on him regularly. Their friendship helped him not feel as lonely. Except for the couple times he was turned down for a job because they didn’t want to hire a North Korean, most people were welcoming to him. But what surprised him most was how many South Koreans didn’t know what was happening in North Korea. Geum Hyok didn’t blame them, he knew humans rights was complicated. But it was still disappointing.
Now, Geum Hyok is studying politics and diplomacy and enjoys having the freedom to do what he wants. He no longer questions his choice to escape but he does think about his loved ones still in North Korea. He especially misses his mother whom he hasn’t seen or spoken to in eight years. He is waiting for the day North Korea finally opens so they can be reunited.
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.
