North Korean Advocacy Fellows: Meet the Class of 2024!

Meet Bella, Lily, and Grace, LiNK’s 2024 Advocacy Fellows! Over three months, they’ll be working closely with us in the US and sharing their stories in cities across the country. Join us at a Fellows speaking event near you!
New Haven, Connecticut
April 22nd, 1:30 pm
Yale University - Whitney Humanities Center Auditorium
53 Wall St, New Haven, CT 06511
No RSVP required
Cambridge, MA
April 24th, 6:30 pm
B-L01 Town Weil Hall, Belfer Building79 JFK St.,
Cambridge, MA 02138
Atlanta, Georgia
April 28th, 8 pm
Emory University - Emory Student Center MPR 4,5,6
605 Asbury Cir, Atlanta, GA 30322
Dallas, Texas
April 29th, 5:30 pm
Southern Methodist University
The Martha Proctor Mack Grand Ballroom
3300 Dyer Street Dallas, TX 75205
San Francisco, CA
May 5th, Optional Lunch 1:00pm | Event Start 1:45pm
True North Church
655 Arastradero Rd, Palo Alto, CA 94306
New York City, NY
May 15th, 6pm
Exilic
240 West 37th Street, 2nd Floor, New York NY 10018
Washington DC
May 28th, 6:30 pm
Private Home - Address sent after RSVP
Sorry, we've reached capacity for this event!
Los Angeles, CA
June 6th, 6:30 pm
UCLA - Bruin Viewpoint Room
308 Westwood Plaza, Los Angeles, CA 90024
Not based in one of these cities? No worries! Meet the Fellows virtually on June 12, 2024 at 4pm PT for their Graduation Event. RSVP here to hear their stories and participate in a live Q&A.
Finally Free
I went to Southeast Asia to see where LiNK’s Field Team rescues North Korean refugees. Here’s what I found…

Refugees must cross terrain like this to reach safety in Southeast Asia
We’re on a dirt road weaving around potholes.
On one side, the rice reaches to the horizon. On the other, corn stretches higher than the van.It feels like rural Iowa, but hotter and with palm trees.
The van lurches along, swaying back and forth with the ruts in the road. We’ve been driving for five hours through dense jungle and villages so small that you’d miss them if you blinked. It’s starting to seem like we’re in the middle of nowhere.
We finally coast to a stop and LiNK’s Field Manager points to a steep ravine.
“We’re here,” she says.

“We’ve rescued North Korean refugees right here,” she continues.
For the next hour we stop every couple hundred yards. She points to a field or a patch of trees and recounts stories.Stories of screeching to a stop, sliding open the door, and pulling North Korean refugees into the van.Stories of refugees so dehydrated they barely have the words to ask for water.
Stories of people collapsing in exhaustion, caked in mud and peppered with bruises from the long trek through the jungle.“What do refugees do once they’re in the van?” I ask.“Some start crying, the tears stream down their cheeks. They’re so overwhelmed that they finally made it. Others flash smiles in triumph, soaking in every second.”
I realize we’re not on just any dirt road.

This road meanders along the border. You can’t see the line but throw a stone in a certain direction and it’s likely to land in another country.For North Korean refugees this border means everything. Cross it, and they’re safe. The North Korean regime cannot have them arrested and forcibly returned.The danger is finally gone — evaporated in the sweltering heat and suffocating humidity of Southeast Asia.
For the first time in their entire lives: they are free.
It’s a week later and I’m sitting in an air-conditioned coffee shop that sells overpriced lattes.
I’m back in South Korea to interview a North Korean woman who reached freedom through LiNK’s rescue network.It took her four tries to make it to South Korea.She was arrested twice at the North Korean border and once in China. Each time the punishments seemed unimaginable, but they’re terrifyingly common.She recounts the horrific torture she endured for trying to escape. The way they slammed her head into a nail on the wall. The torment of witnessing cellmates whither away from starvation. The heartbreak of watching her 5-year old daughter being beaten in front of her.I’m trying hard to collect the facts. But hers is one of those stories that hollows you out. Leaving you nauseous and numb.The conversation dwindles. I can see the toll that sharing these stories are having. Her shoulders start to slump. She barely looks up to make eye contact anymore.I pull out my phone and show her a video. Her eyes flash with life.
20 seconds pass and she’s still glued to the phone.
It’s a video of that dirt road. And the exact place where she finally reached freedom. There are corn stalks on the left and a small farmhouse hidden behind palms leaves on the right.“Do you remember this place?” I ask.“How could I ever forget it?” she says without looking up.She’s smiling for the first time all afternoon.