The Red Box: Misunderstandings and Stereotypes about North Koreans
For North Korean refugees, resettling in a new society comes with many challenges. One of these challenges is overcoming the stereotypes about North Korea and the North Korean people.
In the latest episode of The Red Box, our North Korean friends and 2019 LiNK Advocacy Fellows talk about the struggle of of facing stereotypes after resettling in South Korea.
Watch as Jeongyol, Joy, Dasom, and Ilhyeok answer your questions in The Red Box Series!
Read the transcript of this episode below!
All: Welcome to the Red Box!
Jeongyol:
Are there any misunderstandings about the North Korean people that make you feel uncomfortable?
Ilhyeok: Misunderstandings?
Joy: When I first came to South Korea, was working part-time at a convenience store. I was still very young and had a very heavy North Korean accent.
In South Korea, when a customer enters the part-time employees don't really greet them. But I used to greet the customers standing and say "Welcome!" so people would ask me where I'm from.
I'd tell them that I'm from North Korea. They'd say "oh really?" After they get their stuff and put them on the counter, they'd asked me if I ever had jjajangmyun or pork in North Korea? They'd ask me these types of questions. Some people ask because they don't know but sometimes they ask questions that insinuate that we were all so poor in North Korea. Not everyone in North Korea is like that. There's people who live well too
Jeongyol: If someone asked me that, I’d tell them I might've lived a wealthier life there [in North Korea].
Joy: So those types of questions made me feel a little uncomfortable.
Jeongyol: A lot of people think like that.
Dasom: People think that all North Koreans are poor, ignorant, and uneducated. People have told me that even though I must have starved and lived poorly in North Korea, I don't look the part.
Maybe some people did or didn't have enough food to eat. There are poor people and there are rich people too. Every country is the same — it’s the same in South Korea too. There are rich, poor, and homeless people in South Korea too. I don't think it's right to judge someone like that. It made me feel very uncomfortable
Jeongyol: When I was in high school, there was a soccer match between North Korea and South Korea. But all of a sudden they asked me which team I'm cheering for. So I was startled by the question.
Should I say I'm cheering for North Korea or South Korea? What's my identity?
Even though I'm living in South Korea as a South Korean citizen, they didn't recognize the fact that I'm also South Korean. That we were the same people.
So at the time I answered, "I'm not cheering for either team. I don't care who wins. I’m just watching the game for fun.” It went over smoothly but afterward I kept thinking about it. But now that I think about it…It wasn't my choice to be born in North Korea.
Dasom: Right
Jeongyol: I could've been born in the U.S. but somehow I was born in North Korea.
Anyone could've been born in North Korea.
It's not anyone's fault. So from that moment on, I became confident. I am just who I am.
Ilhyeok: I have this older friend from China. During holidays like in January, he'd always ask me if I am visiting my hometown. Whenever he asks me that question, I want to be able to tell him that I'm am going [home] but I can't because I can't go back so I just don’t answer him. When he asked me if I'm going home, I just wished that I could return home one day.
It's heartbreaking not being able to go home.
During Chuseok and New Year's Day, those two holidays are when I miss home the most.
Joy: One uncomfortable question for me was when I was in school or met people was when they asked me why there's no riot or uprising in North Korea. Sometimes people ask because they really don't know but sometimes they insinuate that we're cowards.
And with that viewpoint, they ask why we won't revolt against the government. I try to explain but they still insist and say, ”But you guys still should have done something.” That makes me a little sad.
In North Korea, there's a system of monitoring each other. So if one person says something bad, they'd get reported right away and taken.
Jeongyol: In South Korea there were a lot of civil riots so they ask why we didn't do anything in North Korea.
Joy: But it's a very different situation.
Jeongyol: The system doesn't allow it.
Dasom:
What also made me uncomfortable was if I did something wrong, people would blame it because I'm North Korean.
They say things like, “It's because she's North Korean.” That made me upset. Other people say bad things and make mistakes too. But because of one mistake they say all North Koreans are like that and that I wouldn't know things or be able to do things because I'm from North Korea.
I hated hearing that so I wouldn't tell anyone that I was from North Korea.
“Until I Escaped from North Korea, I Thought the Kim Family were Gods” – Bella’s Story
I was 10 years old when I escaped from North Korea.
Sometimes, when people hear this, they assume I don’t feel close to my North Korean identity because I left at such a young age. But I can clearly remember my childhood, my most impressionable years, shaped by the hands of the regime.
Through songs and schooling, every aspect of my life was warped by indoctrination. In kindergarten, we learned heroic tales about Kim Il-sung and Kim Jong-il. National holidays were celebrated with special snacks distributed by the government. There were portraits of the Kims prominently displayed in our home, that I cleaned every morning to a wake-up song praising the regime.
I was filled with reverence and gratitude toward the Kim family. To me, they were like gods, and North Korea was my entire universe.
The area of Haesan-si, Yanggang-do where I lived was very cold. We frequently ran out of food to eat, and endured harsh winters with thin clothes and shoes that would fall apart as you wore them. But still, I never questioned the regime. It was the only life I had ever known, so I believed that’s all there was to the world.
The thought of leaving was unimaginable.
When my mother suggested I join her in China, where she had escaped three years prior, I called her a traitor. You betrayed the General. You should come back to North Korea right now–these harsh words came from the mouth of a 7-year-old, who had only ever known propaganda and control. I saw what I was taught to see, and said what I was told to say.
Eventually, my mother arranged for a broker to help me cross the border. My heart soared at the thought of seeing her again, but at the same time, it sank with a heavy weight. I felt guilty for betraying our dear leader. I was frightened by the thought of leaving my home.
I was also leaving behind my father. At 9 years old, I couldn’t have imagined that those moments together would be our last. I was wearing a new padded jacket and snow boots that my dad had bought just for the trip. He held me tight and told me I would be with my mom soon. I carry the memory with me now, just as I carried it with me when I crossed the frozen river at the border. In the dead of winter, my new life began in an unfamiliar country.
We lived in China for six months before arriving in South Korea. During that time, I relearned and realized a lot of new things–like what it felt like to be full. Just being able to eat to my heart’s content brought me so much happiness. Being able to sing songs and watch cartoons and movies that weren’t about the Kim regime was fun and eye-opening.
Friendship and romance, heartbreak and hope–through the lenses of other people’s lives, I saw a world that wasn’t defined by loyalty to a regime. This was a world that was free.
This was the world the North Korean government hadn’t wanted me to see, because I would have realized my life there was not normal.
Arriving in South Korea only made this more apparent. While other children had grown up dreaming of becoming presidents, celebrities, or scientists, I had dreamt of becoming a butterfly, so I could fly close to General Kim Jong-il.
Childhood is when we learn how to see the world, but my view had been distorted by my homeland. At the same time, though, denying North Korea felt like denying myself and my family. I still loved where I came from, even if it hurt me. Reconciling the hurt with the hope helped me realize how to move forward.
Today, I’m pursuing a double major in Political Science & Diplomacy and North Korean Studies at Ewha Women’s University. My dream is to attend law school and help North Korean refugees who are facing legal challenges.
I love North Korea enough to want to change it, for current and future generations. For the children in North Korea now, who think the world starts and ends with the Kim regime. For the children like me, who have grown up and realized that there’s so much more to life, and we are the heroes of our own stories.
I share my story today, asking for the support of people like you. Your attention and support are more powerful than any political regime. Share our stories with more people. Support organizations that are rescuing North Korean refugees and finding ways to send information back inside the country. Help us create a future where children born in North Korea can see and experience the world for themselves.
Free from politics and propaganda, free to discover, and free to dream. There is no greater source of hope than the North Korean people themselves.
In freedom, a vast new world opened up to Bella, one that wasn’t defined by the regime. Each new experience helped her slowly unlearn a decade of propaganda, a process that was accelerated by movies and other forms of foreign media.
Inside North Korea, foreign media is just as powerful. LiNK’s Information Access Programs develop news strategies, technology, and content to send back into the country and empower the North Korean people, ultimately eroding the regime’s legitimacy and control. Help ensure this crucial work can continue.
