From North Korea to South Korea: Under the Big Dipper
By: Hyeyoung Woon
Hyeyoung Woon is a financial accounting professional who escaped North Korea in 2009. Through essays based on personal experience, Hyeyoung shares reflections on life in North Korea, the journey of defection, and adaptation to a new society.
There was a time when the night sky felt like the only place I could hold on to.
I grew up in a small city in the northern part of North Korea. As a child, my happiest moments were simple. Every night, my mother would tell me stories while I searched for the seven stars of the Big Dipper above us. Those stars felt constant and comforting, quietly watching over me as I fell asleep.
When I was seven years old, everything changed. As the economy in the North worsened, my parents had to leave, and I was sent to live with my grandparents. I did not know when they would return. They promised it would be soon, and that they would bring candy if I waited patiently. At first, I believed them. But days became months, and months became years. Waiting quietly became part of my life.
Years later, I was briefly reunited with my mother. But she was no longer the same person I remembered. Prison and hardship had changed her in a way I could not fully understand. We promised never to separate again, yet one morning she disappeared once more.
All she left behind was a letter, promising that one day she would take me to South Korea. That promise became my direction.
A few years later, a broker secretly contacted me in the middle of the night. Hidden in the mountains, through an illegal phone call, I heard my mother’s voice for the first time in years. From that moment, I decided to leave everything behind, I decided to follow her path out of North Korea.
The journey out of North Korea was filled with fear. When I reached Beijing airport, I was terrified as I boarded the plane to South Korea. But, for the first time in my life, I felt like I was finally moving toward something, instead of simply waiting.
And then, after years of waiting, I found her.
For a while, life felt almost normal. My mother taught me how to survive in a completely new world: how to study, how to adapt, and how to build a future in South Korea. Everything around me felt unfamiliar, but I was no longer alone.
Then life changed again.
While I was in university, my mother was diagnosed with liver cancer and given only one year to live. It felt unbearably cruel. And yet, that final year together became one of the most meaningful years of my life.
Before she passed away, my mother had one wish: to tell her own mother, “I love you.”
But in North Korean culture, those words are rarely spoken, and by then, it was already too late. All I could do was share my memories of my grandmother with her. As I spoke, I watched her eyes brighten with memories she could no longer return to.
Exactly one year later, she passed away.
Once again, I was left alone.
For a long time, I did not know how to continue living after my mother passed away. I had risked everything just to follow her, and suddenly the person who had been my destination was gone. I was alone again.
But slowly, I began to move forward.
Years later, when I traveled abroad, I often wished she could see those places too. In every new city, I quietly imagined her beside me.
Even now, when I look up at the night sky, I still search for the Big Dipper. Thinking about that time, my mother and I used to look at those seven stars together.
So much in my life has changed since then.
Countries have changed.
People have disappeared.
And time has carried us into completely different worlds.
But the Big Dipper remains. Quietly shining above us.
Sometimes, when I look at those stars, I still feel connected to her.
As if, even now, we are somehow looking at the same night sky from different worlds.
And, maybe, that is why the Big Dipper still comforts me.
It reminds me that some people never completely leave us.
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Hyeyoung 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.
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Women’s History Month: Honoring the Bravery of North Korean Women
By: Jennifer Kim
Jennifer* is Liberty in North Korea’s Field Manager. Over the years, she’s carefully stewarded our secret rescue routes and helped countless North Korean refugees reach safety and freedom.
Approximately 70% of North Korean defectors are women. Throughout their journey, they face unimaginable challenges, including human trafficking, confinement, and sexual violence.
For Women’s History Month this year, we asked Jennifer to share her experiences supporting North Korean women who have made the brave decision to escape, and bring light to the stories of real people behind the numbers and statistics.
A Transformative First Mission
When I first began this line of work, I was filled with both excitement and anxiety. “Will I be able to connect well with these people?” “Will the field be too dangerous?” Even in my position as a staff member, there were times when the situations we encountered felt riskier because I was a woman.
On my first mission, the group we brought to safety were all women. From their small requests, like asking for sanitary pads, to moments where they cautiously shared their harrowing experiences of human trafficking in China, I found that we could connect on a deeper level because I was also a woman. I realized my role wasn’t just to be a staff member, but to stand by these people as they needed me, as a fellow woman. From then on, the fear I had initially felt about this work transformed into conviction.
North Korean Women At the Forefront of Resistance and Survival
After meeting many North Korean women defectors, I’ve come to learn that there are unique challenges and experiences that only they face. Women in North Korea are not as restricted to job assignments as men, so they’re the ones actively engaged in informal economic activities. They’re running their own black-market businesses and trading smuggled goods, shifting economic power from the regime into the hands of the ordinary people.
Women also make up the majority of North Korean defectors at over 70%. In freedom, they’re leading advocacy efforts and raising awareness for this issue.
I've come to think that perhaps women in North Korean society were the first and most desperate to stand up in resistance.
At the same time, the reality is that women are more vulnerable to gender violence and crime. The moment they cross the North Korean border and set foot on Chinese soil, their precarious legal status and the fact that they are women become risk factors that can lead to human trafficking, sexual exploitation, and forced prostitution. If these dangerous situations lead to pregnancy and childbirth, women often remain in China for years, even decades, weighed down by the conflicting emotions of their longing for freedom and their maternal instincts.
All of the women I met during my first rescue mission were survivors of being trafficked into forced marriages. While there are some cases where these women meet kind families and live in a relatively less dangerous environment, most have to endure difficult lives. One woman who we rescued in 2024 said that in the early stages of her life in China, she was confined and tied up in a single room by the man who bought her. Others had to do forced labor in one of China’s many factories.
Not a News Story, But a Person’s Story
About ten years ago, I watched a video of a woman my age testifying about the hardships and sexual violence she experienced during her defection from North Korea. As a South Korean, I couldn't believe that such things were happening just across the border. Shocked and ashamed of my indifference, I cried for a long time, then resolved to do something.
North Korea used to be something I only saw and heard about through a TV screen. Now those distant news stories have become the personal experiences of the North Korean mothers and friends I’ve met in the field.
At first, I simply wanted to help as best I could. But as time went on and I met more North Koreans, my perspective gradually changed. Now, I feel like I'm not so much ‘helping’ as I am meeting incredible superwomen who have overcome tremendous adversity.
My role is to constantly remind them of their resilience and potential, so they don't forget it themselves.
“This is My First Time Being Treated Like a Queen”
After a successful mission, our team ensures our newly arrived North Korean friends have a proper meal, get some rest, and receive basic necessities. On one occasion, one woman told me, “This is the first time in my life that I have been treated like a queen.”
She had just reached freedom after ten years in a forced marriage to a Chinese man. Her words resonated with me deeply. I realized once again that our work isn't simply about helping people achieve physical freedom; it's about restoring a person's forgotten dignity.
That woman has since resettled in South Korea and runs a small shop. She’s continued to stay in contact with LiNK, sharing updates about her life. One day, she shyly announced her marriage. She’s starting a new chapter with a person she chose and wanted.
Walking Together In Solidarity
Through the friendships I’ve made and stories I’ve witnessed in the field, my connection to this issue has deepened over time. These women aren’t just “nameless” North Koreans, but people like us, living their daily lives; someone’s daughter, sister, or mother. I didn’t set out to do this work for over a decade. But day by day, hearing each story, meeting each person, and holding their hands has naturally led me down this path.
Listen to their stories, and I believe that you too will encounter a heart for the North Korean people.
– Jennifer Kim, LiNK Field Manager
*Jennifer is a pseudonym used to protect our field manager’s identity and avoid compromising this work.
Help North Koreans Win Their Freedom
From inside the country to on the global stage, North Korean women are driving change on this issue. Driven by necessity, desire to care for their loved ones, and aspirations to forge their own path in this world, their pursuit of freedom is both intentional and instinctive.
Liberty in North Korea doesn't just extend a helping hand to North Korean refugees—we’re cultivating the next generation of North Korean leaders, entrepreneurs, and advocates, and doing this work alongside them.
Become a monthly donor today at $20 per month to help more North Koreans reach safety and gain full authorship of their lives in freedom.
