Holly & Mia: North Korean mother and daughter
"When I was young, my mom took me to go see a fortune teller. The fortune teller stared quite forcefully into my eyes, then said that she couldn't see me—that my future was a mystery because she couldn't see me in this world. My mother started crying, asking if I was going to die. The fortune teller told her not to worry, that although I would leave this world, I was going to find success in a world away. That was the moment I understood. I knew I had to leave."
To not know a day’s rest, to never feel a moment's peace — these were common themes in Holly’s life. Since graduating high school, she worked tooth and nail just to stay afloat. Growing into adulthood in the midst of a changing North Korea, she knew that money would be the only thing that could keep her and her family safe. Her family was able to find security by doing business in the Jangmadang (North Korean Market), but it was not enough. Holly left her home to travel to the southern part of North Korea to try to run her own business. Instead of steady business, she found love. Holly’s newfound romantic bliss did not last long. Due to a series of unfortunate business transactions, her husband lost everything. Feeling helpless, she decided to give up everything she had and make for the border. After two attempts and two jail sentences for attempted escape, she finally made it out. But even in China, she could feel a target on her back. Shortly after crossing the border, with no options, Holly was sold into a marriage.
Holly had a daughter with this man, and stayed in a loveless “marriage” because she did not want to deprive her daughter a father. She wanted to be able to give the new light in her life everything — every chance and opportunity any other child is offered by birth in the free world. Seeing that her husband could not care or provide for her, let alone her child, she knew she was not yet free. With the dream of an opportunity-rich future for her baby, Holly was able to make the arduous journey to freedom through our rescue networks. Traveling thousands of miles with her baby, not yet two years old, she could feel her dream come true the further she got from her old life.Now, Holly and her daughter Mia are safely resettled in the United States. Holly is excited to be able to learn anything and everything. "I want to learn a skill, any skill, that allows me to gain a good career and provide for my baby."
On a recent visit with Holly and Mia, we learned something new about her. Mia had beautiful hats, scarves, mittens and sweaters that were all knit by her mother. Holly learned to knit from her own mother and was using her skills to dress her daughter. With limited resources, she was even knitting with two chopsticks! Holly is working diligently to learn English and is excited and motivated by all of the new information she has access to. When she is not studying English or playing with Mia, she is knitting. To support Holly and Mia in their resettlement, we worked together to provide a place for Holly to sell her beautiful, handmade hats. 100% of the proceeds will go directly to Holly and Mia. Thank you for your support!
Returning Home to a Free North Korea | A Glimpse of Reunification in 2045
By: Eunsook Jang
Eunsook is a 2024 LiNK US Scholarship grantee, a Fulbright Scholar, and a North Korean defector pursuing a master’s degree in international development at Brandeis University, where she focuses on post-conflict, economic, and human development. She holds a bachelor’s degree in political science and international peace from Korea University.
In the spring of 2045, on a flight from Incheon to Pyongyang, Emma's hands tremble. Her husband Sam reaches over and, steadily, holds them without a word. She turns to the window and stares into the pale clouds below the wing.
“I’ve waited 30 years for this day,” she whispers. “But now that I’m here… it doesn’t feel real. I hope this isn’t a dream.”
“Maybe it’s both,” Sam replies. “The dream became real.”
She closes her eyes. In 2015, at just fifteen years old, she crossed the frozen Yalu River in a dark March morning, leaving without saying a proper goodbye to her mother. That guilt, its intensity, has never faded, not even after thirty years. It simply learns to live quietly beside her.
“Will Mom recognize me?” she asks. “We parted when I was fifteen. I’m forty-five now.”
“She will,” Sam answers. “How could a mother not recognize her daughter?”
Emma says nothing. Will I... be able to recognize her? She does not say it aloud this time.
An announcement comes through the cabin speakers: "This is the first return flight for North Korean defectors to their hometowns. We know how much you have endured. We will carry you safely home."
It is a rare moment of comfort from a South Korean voice. Moments later, the plane lifts into the sky.
An hour later, the plane lands in Pyongyang. Emma weeps quietly, overwhelmed by the thought that across so short a distance, lives in the South and the North had been so utterly, irreconcilably different. For thirty years, she had not been able to cross it, that gap, so small.
From Pyongyang, the journey to Hyesan continues by bus. As the skyline of Pyongyang passes past the window, its taller buildings, its broad avenues, Emma allows herself the fragile hope: perhaps Hyesan has developed too.
After five hours on the road, the bus arrives at Hyesan Station. The apartments and the lay of the land are almost entirely unchanged from when she had left thirty years earlier, as if time had refused to move, as if it had been waiting for her. Emma found herself hoping the same might be true of her mother.
A thirty minutes' walk from the station: that is where her mother's house is.
As if drawn by a magnet, her feet start moving on their own.
Sam asks if they are going the right way. Without hesitation, "Yes," Emma replies. "I used to walk this road every day as a child. It’s still in my body."
He points to a bus queue down the street. "There's a bus queue over there. Want to take it part of the way?" She shakes her head gently. "If you don't mind, I'd like to walk." "Then we’ll walk," he replies without hesitation. Emma feels another surge of gratitude, grips on his arm and follows her memory home.
Since Emma left her hometown in 2015, the North Korean regime has conducted ten more nuclear tests as of 2045. And yet the face of this neighborhood has not changed by a single detail. The freedom and human rights that should have been the people's return on those tests have been vaporized into the air.
They arrive at a fork in the road. To the left, an alley leads toward the house. A familiar-looking house comes into view, enclosed by a wooden fence. She stops and stands motionless. It is the house, it is her house.
Several minutes pass. Then the door opens. Emma feels her breath catch. For a second, she forgets how to move.
After thirty years, she is here.
This is what the micropolitics of reunification looks like. Grand narratives, speeches, and legal texts may provide its official language, but its lived realities lie in moments, in feelings, like this: a mother and daughter recognizing each other after thirty years apart.
Author’s note: I dedicate this piece to my father in South Korea, who has never once wavered in encouraging my studies, as if realizing through me the freedom to pursue the dreams that were taken from him. And to my mother, who remains in North Korea: This piece is my proof that your daughter has not turned away from your suffering, but is working, in her own small way, to fight against it. I hope to see you, even if only in my dreams tonight. I love and miss you beyond my expression.
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Eunsook 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.
