From North Korea to Seoul National University | Noah’s Story
The house was too small. There was nowhere to hide, and so we had to leave.
I was only 8 years old when my parents divorced. My father was a violent alcoholic, and every day he would beat my mother, sister, and me. North Korea’s laws didn’t protect us from him, so my mother tried to protect us instead. My father stabbed her in the lungs for it.
We were suffocating, but there was no one to save us. The police, the law, and the regime didn’t care. So we left.
First, from our hometown. We moved to a remote city to escape our father’s shadow, but North Korea is a patriarchal society so families like ours are looked down upon. All people saw was a divorced woman and her fatherless children. They didn’t see my mother, who came back from the brink of death to protect her children at all costs. They didn’t see my older sister, who ran her own business and worked away from home to support our family.

All we had was each other, and everything we had, we shared. I remember the snacks we used to buy, the delicious things my sister would bring home and split three ways. We endured 8 years like this, surviving hardships and prejudice with little bits of sweetness.
With no social welfare or food rations to depend on, we had no hope of escaping extreme poverty and hunger. We tried our best, but there were days when I went to school starving. One time, while the other kids were getting ready to eat lunch, I snuck out to forage in a nearby mountain. I found some unripe apricots and ate them to satisfy my hunger. After school that day, I ran home and found some rice porridge leftover in the pot. Without thinking, I ate it all, only to find out later that my mother had sold her clothes in exchange for the rice.
That was worse than the hunger–the helplessness as I watched my mother sell her beloved belongings one by one.

We were still suffocating in a country that told us to be small and silent. To live so invisibly, perhaps they hoped we’d disappear altogether. And so we did. We left North Korea, in search of somewhere with breathing room. Somewhere we wouldn’t have to run from again.
That was eight years ago. My family lives in South Korea now. Today, my mother, who fought hard to protect her two children in a place with no freedom or human rights, works as a school teacher for other refugee children. My sister has since graduated from nursing school and works as a full-time ICU nurse. They’ve never stopped being the strongest, most loving people in my life.
I’m here because they protected me. And now, I can protect them too.

I used to be a terrified, 8 year-old boy, who could only rely on his mother. Now, I’m her proud son, studying politics at Seoul National University – the most prestigious college in South Korea.
As I learn and grow, I’m able to understand my past and leverage it for a better future. The politics and systems that people live under, the environments and experiences that people carry with them – all of these things can be different. But in the end, we are all people. We set the standards for our freedom. We can be the ones who bring change.
When I think about how my family used to live and how we live now, it’s actually easier to remember the bright, happy moments in North Korea, because they were so few and far between. Now, happiness is happenstance – it’s everyday and mundane. And I realize that’s what it must mean to be free. That I know this sweetness will stay, and I can too.

Noah was part of our 2022 class of Advocacy Fellows, a program that supports and develops the next generation of North Korean leaders, storytellers, and advocates. For three months, he traveled across the United States, sharing his story at universities, Fortune 500 companies, embassies, thank-tanks, and The White House. Ultimately, Fellows are working to bring a greater focus to the North Korean people and human rights issues rather than just politics.
We’re only able to sustain these life-changing programs because of your support.
Give a gift today
North Korean Defector Economist: How We Analyze North Korea Needs to Change
By: Maria Stella
Maria Stella reached freedom in 2014. She is a PhD student at the Department of Economics at Korea University, specializing in theoretical economics. Her primary area of interest is developing theoretical models of the North Korean economy. She’s been a participant of the LiNK’s English Language Program since 2022.

When I think about my past, I often feel a great sense of loss and sorrow for the people I left behind in North Korea. As a PhD student studying North Korean economics here in South Korea, I feel a strong desire to use my research to help improve the lives of North Korean people. In many ways, helping those I left behind also gives meaning to my own journey.
Whenever I watch the news or read academic papers on North Korea, I feel saddened by the way North Korean people are discussed and represented. Over time, I have come to believe that the way we analyze North Korea needs to change.
I believe there is a fundamental limitation in existing research on the North Korean economy, as much of it has traditional socialist planned economy analysis. Earlier studies have suggested that North Korea would either collapse or undergo a system transition as other socialist countries have done. However, after the breakdown of the Public Distribution System (PDS) in the mid-1990s and the emergence of the shadow economy (including through the Jangmadang—illegal markets), these approaches began to reveal their limitations.
As a result, the North Korean economy came to be understood not as a simple planned economy, but as a mixed economy in which state control and market activities coexist. However, these studies do not sufficiently explain why the North Korean regime allows marketization to persist at a certain level instead of completely suppressing it.
In order to explain the interaction between the government and ordinary North Korean citizens, who are the primary actors in Jangmadang activities, I divide the North Korean system into three groups: the regime, the elites, and ordinary citizens.
In particular, elites are important economic actors because they function as intermediaries between the regime and the people. My argument is that this phenomenon can be better understood by analyzing how these three groups strategically interact with one another.
These three groups pursue their interests in different ways, and their goals also differ significantly. The leadership wants to continue dynastic rule and ensure stable succession, the elite seek to secure their positions and avoid political risks such as purges, and ordinary citizens primarily seek survival and improved living conditions.
The interests of these three groups sometimes conflict with one another and sometimes align. In my opinion, these three groups in North Korea are currently remaining in a state of equilibrium.
This equilibrium means that these three groups can achieve their maximum interests under the current conditions in North Korea. Precisely because of this equilibrium, North Korea has been able to maintain both regime stability and limited marketization simultaneously.
That is why I believe we must identify what kind of shocks could cause this equilibrium to collapse. If such a change were to occur, it could become a new turning point for North Korea.
A new turning point for North Korea could lead the country toward a new political and economic order. The important thing is that we must identify what kinds of shocks could trigger such a transformation.
I hope for a North Korea that has changed—a place where its people can live freely. For me, North Korea is not just a state; it is my hometown, where I was born and raised, and where my family still lives. This is precisely why I am committed to a different approach to the North Korean issue—because my only goal is to see genuine change in North Korea, and I truly want to help bring about that change.
I want my article to inspire you to see something different the next time you watch the news or media coverage about North Korea. The next time you come across a piece of media about North Korea, I hope you take a moment to think about the real North Korean people. And perhaps you may also reflect on this article and consider what kinds of shocks could transform the current equilibrium of North Korea.
I hope you will join me on this journey.
–
Maria 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.




