Interview with Charles - North Korean Student at Coding Dojo
Charles escaped from North Korea and made the dangerous journey to safety without the help of a rescue. He resettled to the US in 2012, completing high school and soon after taking the opportunity to participate in a rigorous coding bootcamp through a partner of Liberty in North Korea, Coding Dojo. Charles is now attending community college and pursuing his own coding project. We had a chance to meet with Charles this summer to learn more about his life in North Korea and his new coding passion. Read the interview is below. Charles is also fundraising for rescues with us!
LiNK: Why did you choose to resettle to the US?
Charles: I was born between a North Korean mom and a Chinese dad, which put me in a difficult situation. I wasn’t accepted into South Korea because my Dad is Chinese, even though I had proof of having been captured once in China for being a North Korean refugee. So I applied for refugee status through the United Nations and resettled in the US.
LiNK: You attended Coding Dojo’s coding Bootcamp earlier this year - so cool! Between coding language, English, and borrowed words in Korean, which was the hardest language to learn?
Charles: Coding was hard. You have to know the terms while learning the specific coding language, so that was a challenge. I’m still teaching myself the parts of coding that I find difficult. As for borrowed words in Korean, I didn’t know those existed at all until I started to talk to more Koreans in the US. Borrowed words frequently came up, and I would have to ask people around me to explain the words that I couldn’t understand; part of the challenge was how the same word is pronounced differently in Korean and in English. Shortened words in Korean were tough to learn as well.
LiNK: What’s your favorite thing about programming?
Charles: My favorite thing about programming is I have finally discovered what I truly want to do with my life. I used to want to be a doctor one day, a cop the next day, and maybe a week later, I would want to join the army. Coding first became my hobby and thanks to Coding Dojo, it became something I want to make a career out of. It’s a lot of fun. But aside from that, I’ve also met good friends and instructors at Coding Dojo. I think it’s safe to say coding made me pull a 180 in life. I’m set on computers for now.
LiNK: Can you tell us about a project you’ve been working on?
Charles: Sure. I’ve been working on a project using MEAN stack to make an auction platform for ideas. Users can present ideas, sell ideas, buy ideas… You could say that it’s similar to Ebay in a way, but I think at this stage it’s important to emulate what other people have made to explore and learn about various successful models rather than trying to create something entirely new and different. With the current version, users can upload an idea onto the platform, but there’s been glitches in the idea being transferred to the the auction page. So that’s something I’ve been struggling with, but I think I’m going to finish it pretty soon.
LiNK: How do you get into computer programming as a career in North Korea?
Charles: I’m not sure because I don’t have any friends who went to university, although I do have a relative who was able to go. Most students who go to university come from wealthy families or are people who have been able to make a good amount of money from market activities, and they might find that kind of job. But in North Korea a lot of occupations are passed down from your parents, for example if you’re a politician then your children will also likely become politicians.
LiNK: After coding, what do you like to do in your free time?
Charles: I’m usually at the gym working out. If it’s breezy and not too hot outside, I go to the park and listen to music. You can find me sitting on a bench with my headphones on.
LiNK: What kinds of things do you think about when you’re at a park listening to your music?
Charles: Usually I think about memories from North Korea. When I’m busy my mind is preoccupied with work, but when I have more time on my hands I often think back on my life in North Korea -- both the good days and the hungry days.
LiNK: Can you share one of your favorite memories with us?
Charles: Sure. I had a lot of friends back in North Korea, and we were always outdoors in nature. I lived near Daedong River, so every Sunday, five to six friends of mine and I would have cookouts near the river. We would get rice, a pot, and some firewood to make porridge. Would I do that here? Probably not. I could try, but I think being with my friends was what made it memorable and special. Even when we were hungry, we were hungry together.
LiNK: That sounds really nice. Have you found any foods that you like to eat here?
Charles: Subway! I love sandwiches. My go-to Korean food is Kimchijiggae. I also like Vietnamese noodles — Pho.
LiNK: Cool. What are three things you want to accomplish by the end of this year?
Charles: First is completing my programming project, the Idea Auction project that I mentioned earlier. Second is getting accepted into the community college that I’m applying to. And third would be keeping in good health!
LiNK: Those are some solid goals. You drive Uber sometimes, right? When you’re talking with riders, do you share that you’re from North Korea?
Charles: Well, not a lot of people in the US are aware about North Korea. They say, “Where are you from?” So I would say, “I’m from North Korea,” and they go, “How is it there?” Haha. So I tell them that North Korea is the counterpart of South Korea. The funny thing is that they might not be familiar with North Korea, but they know what I’m talking about when I say the name Kim Jong Un. Then, they don’t believe me and say it’s impossible to escape. When I share my story, they’re very surprised. A lot of my customers stick around to listen to my story even after we’ve arrived at the destination. Even if it’s late at night, people don’t get out of my car until I finish my story.
A North Korean Refugee’s Journey - Pursuit of the Freedom to Learn
By Yukyung Lim
Yukyung is a participant of LiNK’s Intensive English Program (LIEP), designed to build the capacity of North Korean English speakers at the intermediate level. In partnership with the British Council, LIEP aims to cultivate participants’ communication and critical thinking skills in English. LIEP is complementary to our broader LiNK English Language Program (LELP), which supports speakers of all proficiency levels.
I was born in North Korea—a place where identities are imposed, voices are silenced, and dreams are tightly confined. There, schooling is not a pathway to opportunity but a means of indoctrination, designed to enforce obedience and suppress individuality. But thanks to my mother’s courage, I never had to undergo that system. She made the bold decision to keep me out of school in North Korea. At age eight, I escaped to China to reunite with her, beginning a journey that would define not only my identity but also my deep, lifelong yearning to learn.
In China, my mother obtained a false identity for me so I could enroll in school. That first day in a rural classroom marked the beginning of a different kind of life. I was behind, anxious, and constantly aware of our fragile situation.
For the first time, however, I was learning not to obey—but to think.
A year later, we moved to Beijing. There, I stepped into a world I had never imagined—one of academic rigor, intellectual freedom, and cultural diversity. It was in that environment that I first witnessed how learning can transform a person. Each lesson, each classroom conversation, opened doors not only to knowledge but also to self expression, confidence, and hope.
One winter afternoon in 2010, I was on my way to the bookstore, backpack heavy on my shoulders. Beijing was bleak and cold that year. Snowflakes fell softly, only to be crushed by cars and vanish into the grime of the streets. That scene reflected my life: I bore a name I couldn’t speak aloud, fears I couldn’t share, and a fragile existence that felt quietly lonely.
Inside the bookstore, warmth greeted me. I wandered through the aisles, searching for a quiet corner to rest. Then, I saw it—a book with a black-and-white cover, its portrait etched in solemn ink. The man’s composed expression exuded a power I longed for. I picked it up, almost unconsciously.
“I Have a Dream.”
“I have a dream that one day... people will not be judged by the color of their skin but by the content of their character.”
“This is the time to make real the promises of democracy.”
“We will not be satisfied until justice rolls down like waters and righteousness like a mighty stream.”
These weren’t just words. They were light, seeping through a crack I hadn’t known existed. In a world that had taught me to stay small and silent, they spoke to a part of me I had hidden away. For the first time, I felt truly seen—not for where I was from or what I looked like, but for my thoughts, my voice, and the quiet strength I carried within.
Later, after arriving in South Korea, I faced new challenges. Though I had returned to my cultural roots, I felt out of place. I was older than my classmates, unfamiliar with many social norms, and unsure of how to fit in. But with time, I began to build friendships and navigate this new society. Again, learning was central—it provided not just academic skills but also the social space to grow and belong.
During university, I studied abroad in Texas. It was my first experience in a Western classroom. I was struck by the openness, the individuality, and the value placed on diverse opinions. Being among students from different backgrounds showed me how perspectives can differ—and how that difference enriches everyone.
Wherever I was—in China, Korea, or the United States—the classroom was where I grew the most. It was where I stepped outside my comfort zone, gained confidence, and slowly came to understand who I was becoming.
Across all these countries, I’ve developed not just a global perspective but a deep appreciation for the transformative power of learning. In each setting, the classroom became both a battlefield and a sanctuary. I struggled, but I also discovered. I learned new languages, absorbed new worldviews, and came to realize that I was more than a refugee or survivor. I was a thinker, a student, and a human being with agency.
And then I understood something deeper: My story is rare—but it shouldn’t be. There are still millions of children in North Korea growing up without the right to question, to dream, or to imagine a world beyond their borders. They deserve more than silence or sympathy. They deserve the same chance I had—to envision a different future and be equipped to pursue it.
That’s why I’m sharing my story through Liberty in North Korea. Because stories hold power. They build bridges, shatter stereotypes, and create connections.
North Korean people are not just victims. They are potential scholars, leaders, creators, and changemakers—if only they are given the freedom to grow.
My dream is to one day build a global school for children who, like me, come from hardship but brim with promise. I want to help others discover the same sense of identity and possibility that learning gave me. Until then, I will continue to advocate, teach, and connect.
If you’re reading this, I hope you’ll join me. Learn more. Speak up. Share stories. Support organizations like LiNK that are fighting to empower North Korean people with freedom, dignity, and opportunity.
Because when you invest in a child’s education, you’re not only changing one life—you’re challenging an entire system and planting seeds for a freer world.
Opportunities like LiNK’s Intensive English Program (LIEP) are helping North Koreans succeed in resettlement, reach their goals, and lead change on this issue. Your support can help us continue to make an impact in the lives of North Korean refugees.
