I Left North Korea As a Child. My Life’s Work is to Return Home to a Free Country | Rose’s Story
As a child in North Korea, I loved quiet, warm mornings. At dawn, I’d wake to the sound of breakfast being made in the kitchen. When my feet grew cold, I’d burrow deeper into my grandfather's blanket. A day that began with the smell of a home-cooked meal was nothing special then—just an ordinary morning.
Growing up, I lived with my grandparents. We worked the fields together, swam in the Yalu River side by side, and grew tomatoes, eggplants, and cucumbers in a small garden. In the summers, my cousins and I played in the mountains and gathered wild strawberries. Every fall, I always looked forward to the corn harvest.
This was the world I knew, and I was quite happy with it.
My mother's work as a broker—helping families separated by the border reunite or at least connect via phone—and her other job selling smuggled CDs containing Korean dramas eventually led to her arrest. She was released quickly but was placed under close surveillance. With no other way to support our family, she made the difficult decision to defect. It was a choice made easier, she later told me, by the countless South Korean dramas she had watched over the years that offered a glimpse into a life outside North Korea.
One winter vacation, my mother said, "Let’s go on a trip." I could barely contain my excitement. I had rarely ventured far from my hometown and thought I was finally traveling somewhere new. My grandmother gave me a warm boiled egg and told me to be safe. I didn’t know that would be the last time I would ever see her.
The journey never stopped. We left in winter and ended up in Southeast Asia, where summer never ends. Only then did I realize this trip was an escape. And it was only one-way.
When we finally arrived in South Korea, I couldn’t accept my new reality. I was only a child, but in my heart, I knew I’d never see my grandparents again. It felt like a cruel trick.
But life carried on, and I found myself adapting to South Korean society pretty quickly. I changed my accent and learned things by asking friends. Even at a young age, I instinctively felt the need to fit in. I was proud of myself for not looking or sounding like a North Korean.
Then one day in our elementary school classroom, the topic of North Korea came up. At that moment, I felt everyone’s eyes on me.
Although no words were spoken, the silence between me and my classmates felt like a wall.
As much as I tried to push it away, that feeling continued to follow me. In middle school, while watching a soccer game with friends and cheering for South Korea, someone said, “Shouldn’t you be rooting for North Korea?” I felt the color drain from my face. Once again, I felt the gap between me and them. And I wondered if I could ever close the distance.
Years later, in university, a professor mistakenly thought my South Korean friend was North Korean. She strongly denied it and took great offense, demanding a formal apology from the professor. Seeing her reaction, I wondered what it said about me. This incident left a deep scar on my heart.
As time went on, I realized that I wasn’t as well-adapted as I thought. I had been living my life avoiding who I was. Whenever the topic of North Korea came up in conversation, I cringed and tried to change the subject. When my family in North Korea would secretly call us, I would hang up the phone after a brief greeting, afraid I’d burst into tears. I couldn’t face how much I missed them, because I didn’t want to accept that I may never see them again.
Amidst these complex emotions, I began my work on North Korean human rights. I wanted to change how North Koreans were portrayed as “pitiful,” or “dangerous.”
But doing this work scared me at first. If I shared my story, would people look at me again with those silent, disapproving eyes? Then I began to understand something important—those fears came from my own hidden prejudice. If I believed that North Koreans would only be seen in a certain way, didn’t that also mean it was how I saw them?
Confronting the deepest parts of myself allowed me to finally embrace who I was. I stopped hiding, and began to explore the thoughts and feelings I had suppressed for so long.
In 2022, I took part in Liberty in North Korea’s Co-Creators program. It’s a unique opportunity for North and South Korean students to work together on advocacy projects. Our team’s project was called “North Korea Travel.” We highlighted different regions of the country and shared facts about life there, leading naturally into conversations about human rights.
As I worked on this project, it occurred to me how much I actually didn’t know about my own country. Due to the regime’s strict restrictions on movement, I never traveled beyond my hometown until the day I left North Korea for good. When I explained this to participants, they listened attentively and said it was their first time learning about it.
Their sincerity caught me off guard. I realized that prejudice often does not come from malice, but simply from a lack of knowledge and understanding.
After that experience, I knew I wanted to continue creating moments of connection and understanding about North Korea. I figured the perfect way to reach people would be through the medium I know best: architecture.
For my graduation project, I designed a North Korean Human Rights Memorial Hall. I chose Imjingak, near the DMZ, as the symbolic location. The space I conceptualized commemorates the sorrow of separation, and allows visitors to experience the "surveillance," "chaos," and "oppression" North Koreans face in their daily lives.
The Pantheon in Rome directs our gaze toward the sky. I turned that idea upside down. In my design, the ceiling collapses into the ground, trapping people beneath, like the crushing weight of the regime’s oppression.
On the opposite wall, the names of loved ones are carved into stone, representing those we miss dearly. Before politics, before ideology, these are mothers and fathers, grandparents and children. This is a space where people can freely miss and yearn for the people they left behind. And it is a reminder that North Korea is home to our families, friends and neighbors.
Last year, when I visited the Holocaust Memorial in Washington DC, I felt that it was more than just a commemorative site. It was a space that showcased how to confront humanity's darkest history to ensure that such things are never repeated again.
Standing there, I hoped that one day, the human rights abuses faced by North Koreans would also just be a memory for us to reflect on.
I no longer hide my identity. My story began in North Korea, in a beautiful city by the Yalu River. Even now, on quiet mornings, my thoughts drift back to my grandparents’ house. I want the world to see North Korea like I do—through the warmth of ordinary days and the humanity of its people.
I dream of returning home one day, when all North Koreans can live free and full lives. Until then, I will continue to speak through the language of space and the power of stories.
The Universal Declaration of Human Rights begins with this: "all human beings are born free and equal in dignity and rights." These aren’t just words on paper, but a reality that we can create together.
Please join me today to advance freedom and human rights for all North Koreans.
In 2025, Rose traveled across the US, sharing her story and advocating for the North Korean people as a LiNK Advocacy Fellow. Our capacity-building programs are cultivating the next generation of North Korean activists and leaders who are bringing change to their homeland.
Help empower more North Korean refugees with opportunities to grow, like Rose.
Give Today
How North Korean People are Changing North Korea
Sometimes this issue seems hopeless. But we believe that all North Koreans can achieve their freedom in our lifetime. Here’s why.
For decades, the North Korean people have been deprived of their basic human rights and potential. The regime has maintained control through a system of imposed isolation, relentless indoctrination, and brutal repression, creating one of the most closed societies in the world. The result is an all-encompassing enforced poverty, including material, physiological, social, informational, artistic, and spiritual deprivations.
In 2014, the United Nations Commission of Inquiry on Human Rights in North Korea concluded: “The gravity, scale and nature of these violations reveal a state that does not have any parallel in the contemporary world.”
In recent years, the pandemic has triggered another increase in isolation, hardship and repression.
Despite these tremendous challenges, the North Korean people have made significant progress toward their own freedom. In the 1990s, North Korea’s socialist economy collapsed, triggering a devastating famine and leaving the people to fend for themselves. Bottom-up market activity is changing North Korea and forcing the gradual opening up of North Korean society.
> The History of North Korea in under 3 minutes
Marketization and Emerging Entrepreneurs
Once the people realized they could no longer rely on the government, they abandoned their defunct work units and turned to private market activities. From selling home cooked meals to running extensive trade businesses, North Koreans have become incredibly creative and resourceful to survive. The markets central to these activities are known as the “Jangmadang,” and to this day, North Korean refugees regularly report that life would be impossible without them.
> The Jangmadang Generation
The famine forced people at all levels of society to find alternate ways to survive. Many government officials seized opportunities for camouflaged capitalism to enrich themselves personally. Even security officials accommodated the markets, accepting bribes to turn the other way and allow access to the Chinese border for trade. This corrupt state apparatus has further degraded the integrity and power of North Korean leaders.
Foreign Media & Info
The growing market economy has also created opportunities for foreign media and information to proliferate in North Korea.
First, the movement of people has significantly increased since the 1990s. Hundreds of thousands of North Koreans have now been outside the country for legal or illegal work and trade, in addition to refugees who were caught in China and forcibly repatriated. Observations from overseas are commonly shared through word of mouth and quickly spread through communities.
Additionally, new information technologies are increasingly available through the markets, making it easier to share and consume illegal foreign media. USB thumb-drives, SD and MicroSD cards, mobile phones, laptops and small portable media players are often loaded with foreign films, TV shows, and music that offer a glimpse of life outside.
> How Kpop is Challenging the Regime
Individual Agency & Independence
Since the collapse of the 1990s, the relationship between the North Korean people and the regime has been fundamentally changed. The people’s increasing economic autonomy has challenged the government’s centralized power and systems. Simultaneously, access to foreign media and awareness of life outside the country has eroded the legitimacy of the regime’s propaganda. The North Korean people have found opportunities to explore their potential, empowered to think and act independently of the regime.
North Korean Defectors
As North Koreans gain both physical and psychological independence from the regime, some will risk their lives to escape and experience freedom. Since crossing the heavily fortified demilitarized zone directly to South Korea is nearly impossible, many refugees go north into China while escaping North Korea.
North Korean defectors who successfully resettle become some of the most effective agents of change on this issue. Many maintain contact with their home communities through broker networks and smuggled Chinese phones. They send money back to their families along with first-hand accounts of the outside world, accelerating both market activity and the flow of information.
From the outside, North Korean refugees have the opportunity to share their stories on the international stage. Their personal accounts challenge the regime’s narrative of an unchanging and monolithic North Korea, instead highlighting the humanity and dynamism of the people. As they explore their potential in the free world, North Korean refugees increase the force of change through both internal and external influence.
> How A North Korean Defector Sends Money Back Home
Change from the Bottom-Up
While the situation in North Korea is changing, the government’s mastery in maintaining social control should not be underestimated. The regime’s response has ranged from crackdowns to tacit acceptance and reform. North Korean leader Kim Jong-un recognizes the trade-off between change and maintaining control, and has allowed limited marketization while cracking down on information flows.
Ultimately, however, the sources of change can only be managed, not eliminated. As the North Korean people learn more about their relative poverty and the reasons for it, pressure will build on the government for economic reform. The less the North Korean people fear the outside world, the less effective the government’s threat narrative will be, and the less justified their massive investment into nuclear weapons will seem.
The regime will either need to adapt to change and allow opening of the country, or ultimately face the consequences of increasingly dissatisfied people.
It is important to note that progress in North Korea is a fluctuating process, as it is anywhere else in the world. During the pandemic, there has been increased isolation, retrenchment, and a limited outflow of people. The situation at hand is dire, but we can still be optimistic about long-term outcomes and an overall upward trend towards progress.
Liberty in North Korea
Our staff from North Korea, South Korea, and around the world, with our diverse movement of supporters and volunteers, is committed to bringing freedom forward for all North Korean people.
We’re engaged at multiple touchpoints of change:
- Helping North Korean refugees reach safety
- Identifying and empowering North Korean agents of change
- Mobilizing international support for the North Korean people
- Working with North Korean defectors to develop content and technologies that increase the people’s access to information
Our theory of change recognizes that change in North Korea has already started, and it is being driven by the people. One day, all North Koreans will gain their freedom and take full authorship over their lives. When that day arrives, we will know that we were a part of helping North Koreans in this incredible story of resilience and human progress against all odds.
