Meet Noel, Our Newest North Korean LiNK Staff Member!
History has been made!! We have hired our first full-time North Korean resettlement staffer! Noel Kim might look familiar and that’s because she was LiNK Advocacy Fellow and intern at our Seoul office! As our newest Program Coordinator in Seoul, she works side-by-side with newly resettled North Koreans as they overcome the challenges of starting over in a new society.
We recently sat down with Noel to learn more about her new job and her own experience coming to South Korea.
How is it been working at LiNK so far?
Work is fun! Every moment I feel like my job is meaningful so it doesn’t feel like work at all. I became a staffer after being an intern so the work is similar but with more responsibilities and opportunities.
Why did you want to work at LiNK?
I joined LiNK last year as an Advocacy Fellow. I witnessed what LiNK does for the North Korean people and it was inspirational. I am from North Korea and it’s my responsibility to help but when I came to South Korea, I didn’t do anything to support my fellow North Koreans. I was embarrassed about that so when I heard about LiNK I saw it as an opportunity to make a meaningful impact!
How do your own experiences as a resettled refugee help you when you’re with our North Korean friends?
I lived through the same experiences so I think they trust me from the get go. I try to comfort them and give them advice on educational opportunities, resettlement programs, and even fun things they can do now that they are free. I also tell them to travel around South Korea.
There’s a North Korean saying, "A walking fool is better than a sitting intellectual."
You have to go see and experience how society works for yourself. You have to go see what clothes people wear, how they talk, and where they go to hang out. I believe being curious helps people adjust to South Korean society much faster.
What are some of the challenges resettled refugees you work with are facing in South Korea?
Usually, the people I meet struggle a lot with their North Korean accents. When I came to South Korea, I was ashamed of my accent too. The moment you open your mouth people know you're from North Korea. It makes you feel different. But I always tell the North Koreans I meet that with time their accents will naturally fade and not to stress too much about it.Also, older people who want to learn a skill usually have doubts that they can achieve their dreams at their age. I don’t think age matters, so I encourage them not to think like that but I completely understand and empathize with their concerns and feelings.
You’re working with North Koreans who have just resettled in South Korea, what was one of the hardest challenges you faced when you resettled?
One of them was making choices. When I lived in North Korea, I was never free. But then I came to South Korea and had freedoms I had never had before. It sounds strange, but it was not easy having so much freedom. For example, choosing your college major or your dream for your life was a new challenge. There were too many choices. I didn’t know what I should do or what I should choose. I recently read the book Escape from Freedom and as I read it, it hit me – I was running away from freedom.
It was so good to have freedom, but because I never had it before, I didn’t know what to do with it. Now that I have the freedom to do what I want, I'm working on doing something great with it.
What has been your favorite moment while working at LiNK?
It was a few months ago. The South Korea office had a karaoke gathering with LiNK’s board members and a lot of our North Korean friends. We just hung out and sang a lot of songs. That was one of my favorite memories because I was the emcee! I got to dance and I sang “Chingu” ( or “Friend”), a very old song I sang when I was younger.
It was my first time meeting so many North Koreans in one place in South Korea. I thought,“This is amazing that we are all together. It’s so much easier to be happy when we are together.”
What are your future plans or goals?
I am going to continue writing. I want to finish writing a book by the time I’m 30. I don’t care if it’ll ever be published. I just want to do it. And even if it seems far in the future, when North Korea opens, I want to return. I want to do whatever I can for the North Korean people. My work now at LiNK is preparing me for the day North Korea finally opens.
Want to to learn more about our resettlement work? Check it out here!
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.
