North Koreans Learning English | Interview with LELP Student & Volunteer
As North Korean refugees resettle in South Korea’s competitive society, conversational English ability has been identified as a top need for personal and professional growth.
The LiNK English Language program (LELP) has become a mainstay in our efforts to help build the capacity of North Koreans as agents of change. Students are matched 1:1 with volunteer tutors from all around the world, leading to customized practice, conversations that break down barriers, and connections that will last a lifetime. In addition to weekly virtual study sessions, the program includes in-person bonding activities and a semesterly speech contest.
Spring 2024 has been the program’s biggest semester yet with 156 participants, including 78 North Korean students and 78 volunteers! Meet Stella, a North Korean student pursuing her PhD in Economics, and Cydney, a long-time LELP volunteer from the United States.
Please briefly introduce yourselves and share how you first met!
Stella - Hi, I’m Stella from North Korea. I’m currently living in South Korea and working towards getting my PhD in Economics.
Cydney - I’m Cydney, I’m from the US. I’ve been in South Korea for four years, teaching English at a hagwon. I’ve been a volunteer with LELP for two years now.
Stella - I don’t exactly remember when we met, it’s been so long!
Cydney - I think it was at the LELP hiking event! That was our first time meeting in-person.
Stella - Right, I was a little nervous then.
Cydney - Now we meet up all the time, going out for drinks and finding new places to check out in Seoul.
What has been your favorite activity during the program?
Stella - I really enjoy the speech contest. I can share my story and everyone is so attentive - the other North Korean students, volunteers, and LiNK staff. At other places, they’ll give you fixed questions that you have to answer. But LiNK gives you complete control over what you want to talk about.
People say North Koreans come from a prison, and sadness is the primary emotion. But in my experience, there is happiness even in the small things. I love to talk about those stories, my childhood memories.
First I’ll write my speech in Korean, and then I’ll write it again in English with Cydney’s help. I say what I want to express and she’ll help me.
Cydney - Sometimes I’ll write five different sentences and explain the nuances to Stella, and then she’ll go ‘okay that one, that’s how I want to say it.’
Stella - The days leading up to the speech content, I have so many feelings and emotions while I’m busy preparing. But afterwards, I feel a sense of relief. I love it because by sharing my story, I’m realizing new things about myself.
Cydney - I’m usually crying when she finishes delivering her speech. I’m just so happy and proud of all her hard work, and she’s so good at it. Hearing the speeches of the other students is also always so inspiring.
Is there a moment or everyday interaction where you felt LELP helped you?
Stella - Yes, there is. This semester I’m taking a microeconomics seminar and the class goes into English all the time. The professor asks us questions, and we have to answer in English. If I wasn’t part of LELP, then I would have never thought about raising my hand and talking with confidence. Even if my grammar isn’t perfect, I can still comfortably share my thoughts.
What are your dreams or goals?
Stella - I have a big dream. I want to be a professor someday, at the undergraduate or graduate level. More than just teaching a certain topic or subject, I hope to instill in my students a love of learning. That’s what my teacher back in my hometown did for me. I’ve been able to come this far because of her, and she continues to inspire me to this day.
In North Korea, education opportunities are limited. But my teacher always tried to help me. She told us that if we had big dreams, then we can grab the chance to make it happen. She taught me a lot of things, about life and to see more than our current circumstances. I think about her all the time, even now, and I want to be like her - a good teacher and a good person.
I consider this my third chance at life. First I just survived in North Korea, and second in China. Now in South Korea, I can finally live freely.
Cydney - I love this story. Since I know Stella wants to be a professor, I also asked why, and she shared her memories from growing up in North Korea. Knowing that she’s wanted to do this for so long, it just makes sense.
As for my future goals, I don’t have anything concrete like teaching, but I want to help people. I want to use all the things I learn and that I’m interested in to help people find themselves. LELP has given me a great opportunity to meet new friends from different backgrounds and be a part of this meaningful cause as a volunteer.
Has being part of this program changed your perspective on North Korea?
Cydney - Yes, definitely. Before LiNK, I had read a lot of books and biographies from North Koreans. With that kind of exposure, you hear a lot of the hard stuff. Very inspirational stories about incredible people, but tough to read. I wanted to get a bigger picture of the issue, and that naturally led me to LiNK. After volunteering with LELP for two years, my perspective has not just changed, but really expanded.
I’ve had a lot of conversations with Stella where the contexts of what we’re talking about could not be more different, but our experiences are very much the same. It’s brought this universal view of people doing their best to live their lives, and connecting over it.
Stella - A lot of times, people want to hear hard stories from North Koreans. If you talk about your happiness, they ask ‘Why are you here then? You can go back there.’ It always surprises me - how can they say something like that? People living anywhere, have both happy times and difficult situations. But they don’t want to hear positive things from North Korea, they just want to hear that you were living in hell.
But LiNK is different. I feel like I can just talk comfortably. It has made me want to continue this program. Other places have a political focus but LiNK doesn’t, just real human stories.
Cydney - It’s one of my favorite things about how LiNK shares stories of North Koreans. They don’t shy away from the hardship, but they’re showing happy, thriving people and smiling faces. It’s not, ‘come to our page to learn about our sadness,’ but ‘learn about these real people whose experiences we want to share.’
Did LiNK’s program further your interest in sharing North Korean stories and experiences?
Stella - Actually we planned it, we talked about her drawing pictures and me writing the stories.
Cydney - It’s still very much in the talking phase, but it’s been my dream to make a webtoon! We’ve thought about creating one together about a little North Korean girl and sharing Stella’s experiences through this format.
My undergraduate degree was in history, so I spent a long time studying situations similar to what happens in North Korea. It’s hard for me to know that I live in a time where people go through such things, especially people close to me, like Stella. I think what LiNK does is so important because it’s trying to change the narrative and what the history of North Korea will be. If I can have any part of it, I want to do what I can.
What is something that each of you learned from each other?
Stella - Cyndey is just such a strong person. Before I met her, I thought I was strong, but we shared our stories and I’m so amazed by her determination. She’s alone here in South Korea, with a different language and culture, but she never complains. She always tries to make the best of life and find happiness.
Cydney - I lived in the States, then I lived in China, and then in Korea. So there have been a lot of cultural challenges. The longer I’m here, I realize, ‘Oh, the things that I’m culturally used to are so different here that it’s starting to weigh on me.’ In those times, it’s been so great to talk to Stella.
That’s something we relate closely on, actually, both having to learn to live in South Korea.
She’s become one of my closest friends and we spend 90% of our time together just laughing. She’s so ambitious. I watch her do everything she can to reach her goals, and I think to myself, ‘I can do that too.’
Stella - I’m still reflecting on my experiences, so sometimes I try to find therapy but it hasn’t really helped me. But talking with Cydney has. She listens without judgment, and feels with me. So it’s become not just studying English together, but I feel healed with her.
Thank you for making programs like the LiNK English Language program possible. Every day, we see the impact that opportunities like this have in the lives of our North Korean friends, and members of this global movement.
Help us ensure that the LELP can continue, improve, and expand in the years to come.
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A North Korean Mom and Son’s Harrowing Escape | Harry’s Story
The town I grew up in was surrounded by mountains. When the season was right, my friends and I would hike up to look for pears. Fresh fruit was a luxury in North Korea, but the mountainside was covered in orchards. One day we snuck in when the fruit was still green, hoping to avoid the guards.
I hid in a tree, passing down pears to my friends, when we heard a whistle blow. My heart was pounding; it was like a heist movie. I rolled away and ran out of danger. Somehow, we got away with it. It didn’t even matter that the fruit we ate was not ripe and made our stomachs hurt—we felt unstoppable.
Little did I know that just a few years later, I would be running for my life once again… but this time, it was not a game. I would be escaping from North Korea.
Life in North Korea was normal to me. I went to school and spent time with my friends and older sister. All I knew about South Korea was from the movies I’d secretly watched. It seemed like a scary place, where they trafficked drugs and stole your organs.
My mom was often busy with work. She had a job that connected North Koreans to China, wiring money between families. With her income, we were able to live comfortably. But it was risky. She could usually bribe the guards to let her cross the border safely, but it wouldn’t work forever. One day, she was caught and sent to one of North Korea’s brutal prison camps.
My mom spent two years in the prison camp, forced to do intense labor every day while barely being fed. She told us later that she had shared a concrete cell with 50 other people and they lacked basic things like soap, toilet paper, and sanitary products. Guards would abuse their power and find any reason to assault them.
Many people in the camp were also women who had been arrested for crossing the border, trying to find ways to make a living and take care of their children. Dying in prison meant your crimes would be passed on to your family. And so, many of those women endured faithfully until they were released, and then passed away afterward.
When my mom finally left the camp, she quit the work she was doing and told her clients she was done. But one of them refused to hear it.
He was a South Korean fisherman whose boat had been thrown off course by a typhoon, and North Korean authorities refused to let him return home. One night, he showed up drunk at our house and threatened my mom. If she didn’t take him across the border, he would turn her in. So she had no choice. None of us did.
My mom took me with her and brought the old man to the border of North Korea. We were supposed to meet some brokers who would take him across, but they couldn’t agree on a price or a place. After a few days of waiting, everything went wrong.
The police had discovered our plan. They had our photos and were already putting up wanted posters for our capture. There was no way we could go home now. The choice was made for us. We had to flee the country with the old man.
I thought I would die that night. Armed soldiers patrol the river bordering North Korea and China, and are told to shoot defectors on sight.
If caught, my mom would have faced life in prison for her second offense—no better than a death sentence. But somehow, we made it to the other side.
In China, we waited three days in the mountains for our brokers. Every moment spent at a standstill was a huge risk, because Chinese authorities pay local citizens to report North Korean refugees. When it became clear that help wasn’t coming, we headed for a nearby village, laying low in the grass until the cover of night.
By nightfall, we took our chances and entered the village. Luckily, we met a kind woman who introduced us to a new broker. This broker helped us get to another city where the old man was picked up by South Korean officials and flown home to his family. As for me and my mom, we couldn’t go back to North Korea. So we went to see my middle sister, who had already been in China for quite some time.
Before I was born, my mom took my two sisters to China with her. She wanted them to stay there safely, but my oldest sister refused and returned to North Korea with my mom. My middle sister was left behind, sent to live with a trusted friend. But the unthinkable happened. At 12 years old, she was trafficked and sold to be married to a much older man. Every night, she would stand by the water well, threatening to hang herself if the man came near her.
But one year later, the inevitable happened. When she was just 13 years old, she had a baby.
Like many other young North Korean women, my sister went across the border seeking a better life, but ended up living her teenage years in captivity, with no laws or family to protect her. Every day she had imagined running away, until finally she did. She reunited with my mom in North Korea when she was 20.
But not everything went as hoped. Though she was happy to be together with our family again, it turned out life was just as hard in North Korea. In the end, my sister returned to her daughter in China just a few years later.
It had been years since we last saw my sister, and it was my first time meeting her daughter, my niece. We were the same age. For a month, we all enjoyed the bittersweet reunion. Then my sister connected us with another broker, and my mom and I finally escaped for good.
We eventually reached South Korea and it turns out, it wasn’t the dangerous country I had seen in movies.
Still, the memories of everything we had been through tormented me. I was angry at the old man who pressured us into his escape plan. I hated that my mom chose such a risky job in the first place.
Later we found out my oldest sister had been tortured by North Korean authorities when we left, leaving her devastated by mental illness. They wanted her to confess that our family had helped the old man escape. Someone had to take the blame. My older sister, who was once strong and reliable, would never be the same again.
When I first reached South Korea, I hid my past. Everything was terrifying and different—the culture, the lifestyle, and even the language. My new friends would hang out at internet cafes and I didn’t even know how to use a computer.
But I started learning. I studied hard in school and got a job to support myself. I began reading books to develop my own philosophy for my new life. I even started playing video games and for better or for worse, became just as obsessed as everyone else.
When I got to high school, I finally told my friends the truth about my life. Their response was so different from what I had expected. I found that rather than being cruel, they were curious. I realized the importance of my story, and how sharing my family’s painful experiences could change people’s perspectives about North Korea.
In 2019, at the end of high school, I met someone from Liberty in North Korea. I was so curious how she spoke about North Korea. She invited me to attend their Changemakers Summit and I had never experienced anything like that before—South Koreans, North Koreans, and even foreigners who were all young, open-minded, and interested in how to make an impact on this issue.
Truthfully, I never saw myself as an activist. I didn’t think I had what it takes.
But if I could change how just one person saw North Korea—to see the people and their resilience, bravery, and hope instead of the regime—I realized I was already acting as an advocate.
These days, I’m working and studying full time. After coming to South Korea my mom got her masters degree and is now writing a book about her life. My middle sister eventually escaped and joined us in South Korea too. She got remarried and finally gets to live a normal life. Even though we’re all pursuing different things, we’re still together, holding tightly to the hope that we will someday reunite with my older sister.
Today, I can be my own person. I can buy fresh fruit whenever I want, or walk along the Han river anytime. After all of the running and all of the pain, I am finally free to choose my own life.
Harry’s story echoes that of many North Korean refugees, who live with the weight of their past while grasping onto hope for the future. After what happened to his oldest sister, Harry says he has nothing left to lose. That’s why he chooses to speak openly about the horrific things he and his family have experienced, hoping to bring change and one day reunite with her in a free North Korea.
Help us continue to to sustain refugee rescues, empowerment programs, and efforts to change the way the world sees North Korea.
