“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.
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Chuseok for North Koreans | No Way Home for the Holidays
Autumn is a significant season for many people and cultures around the world. It’s a period of transition and reflection, gratitude for the days gone by, and celebration of the harvest.
In both North and South Korea, this time of year is celebrated with Chuseok, or the mid-autumn festival. Also known as “Korean Thanksgiving,” it’s a major holiday that predates the division of the peninsula. Chuseok is observed on the 15th day of the 8th month of the lunar calendar, when the harvest moon shines brightest. Traditionally, people return to their ancestral hometowns to gather with family, share a variety of delicious foods, and pay respects to their ancestors.
But for North Korean refugees, there is no going back. Holidays like Chuseok can be a bittersweet time, one of both gratitude for a life in freedom and grief over being unable to celebrate with family still inside North Korea.
“The first Chuseok in the US felt very empty and lonely. It was just me and my two-year-old daughter, Mia, back then. It didn’t feel like a holiday. I had multiple emotions at the same time. Loneliness, emptiness… there were so many feelings that I couldn’t even put into words.“
– Holly, escaped North Korea in 2013
Chuseok celebrations have evolved to look a little different in North versus South Korea, and even in countries like the US where the Korean diaspora have resettled.

Chuseok Traditions in South Korea
In South Korea, Chuseok is considered the largest and most important holiday of the year. It’s celebrated over three days, during which a “national migration” takes place as people all over the country travel to their hometowns or to go sightseeing. Tickets for planes, trains, and buses are sold out months in advance, and freeways are packed with bumper-to-bumper traffic during the holiday period.
On the morning of Chuseok, families hold a memorial service for their ancestors at home, known as charye (차례). A table of food is prepared as an offering, typically featuring rice cakes, fresh fruits and vegetables, meat dishes, and the favorite meals of deceased loved ones. Families will also visit ancestral gravesites, a custom known as seongmyo (성묘), to pay their respects and tend to the graves.

From the ancestral table to large family meals, food is a central part of Chuseok celebrations. The defining dish of this holiday is seongpyeon (송편), a chewy, sweet, and nutty half-moon shaped rice cake steamed in fresh pine needles. It’s traditionally made with rice from the year’s harvest, finely milled into flour. Preparing seongpyon becomes a family activity as each piece is shaped by hand and filled with red bean paste, toasted sesame seeds, or chestnuts.
Other holiday foods include pajeon(파전), a crispy, savory pancake made with green onions; galbijjim (갈비찜), sweet and savory braised short ribs; and japchae(잡채), glass noodles stir-fried with meat and vegetables.

How Chuseok is Celebrated in North Korea
In North Korea, Chuseok is just a one-day celebration. While it is considered a key traditional holiday, its importance has been minimized relative to national holidays like the birthdays of Kim Il-sung and Kim Jong-il, and the anniversary of the founding of the Worker’s Party.
On both traditional and national holidays, North Koreans are urged to visit the statues of Kim family leaders or the Kumsan Palace of the Sun in Pyongyang, where the bodies of Kim Il-sung and Kim Jong-il lie.
It is much less common for widespread travel to take place during Chuseok due to severe travel restrictions and poor transportation infrastructure. However, these constraints have also made it so that generations of North Koreans remain in close proximity to their hometowns and relatives. For Chuseok, people gather with their nearby family members. Just like in South Korea, they’ll prepare special foods as offerings for charye, and then visit ancestral grave sites to pay respects.
After ancestral rites, festivities become a community affair with traditional food and folk games shared amongst family, friends, and neighbors. Songpyeon is also a holiday staple, but the North Korean version is made with a minced meat and vegetable filling, and are twice as big as South Korean ones. Common folk games are yutnori (윷놀이), a board game, and ssireum (씨름), or Korean wrestling.
Holly & Mia: A Legacy of Freedom
It’s been over a decade since Holly left her hometown in North Korea. But whenever she makes pajeon (파전), it takes her right back to her childhood—sitting by the frying pan and watching her mom cook, eagerly awaiting a taste. “Pa”(파) means green onion and “jeon”(전) refers to foods that have been pan-fried or battered. There are many varieties of “jeon,” made with everything from potatoes to zucchini, seafood, kimchi, and more.
Holly saw her mom cook this dish countless times in North Korea. It was an inexpensive, everyday staple, but also an essential part of the holidays. Every year for Chuseok, the mouthwatering aroma of oil and batter would draw everyone to the kitchen, where a colorful assortment of jeon was being prepared.
Holly now lives halfway across the world from North Korea, but every year during Chuseok, she sets out an offering table for charye. For hours, she prepares foods like pajeon with great care, remembering and honoring her parents and loved ones, who she can’t be with for the holidays.

In 2016, Holly reached freedom through LiNK’s rescue networks with one-year-old Mia in her arms.
Mia is now at an age where she’s able to understand some of the things her mother went through. Holly has begun to open up more about her life in North Korea, and does her best to keep their small family connected to their Korean heritage. She takes Mia to Korean language school on Sundays, and makes an effort to celebrate cultural holidays, like Chuseok. What can’t be put into words, Holly communicates through food—their dinner table is always full of delicious Korean cooking.
In 2024, Holly received her US citizenship, nine years after her resettlement!
"When I obtained my US citizenship, it felt like my escape journey was finally complete. I cried and felt so grateful to the US for giving me a new life. My greatest happiness is seeing Mia have a childhood free of the painful hardships that defined mine.”

These days, Chuseok has become a lively gathering with the many friends and neighbors they’ve met over the years! Holly gathers with other Koreans in the community, and they go all-out preparing delicious seongpyeon and pajeon. She takes great pride in wearing traditional hanboks with Mia, and explaining each dish when guests arrive. The festivities always continue long after dinner, with Korean games like jegichagi, a version of hacky sack, and yutnori, a board game.
Living in the US, Holly and Mia have been introduced to new traditions too. Just a month after Chuseok, their community gathers again to celebrate Thanksgiving with turkey and pumpkin pie, in true American fashion.

Holly still has hope that in her lifetime, she’ll be able to celebrate Chuseok with all her family and bring Mia to visit her hometown in North Korea.
We’re working towards the day when families don’t have to be separated. To date, LiNK has rescued almost 1400 North Korean refugees and their children, reuniting over 500 people with their families in freedom. As we’re helping North Koreans, like Holly, build new lives, we’re also leading initiatives to increase change inside North Korea, through advocacy, information access, and more.
Become a monthly donor and create a long-lasting legacy of freedom. Your support will rescue North Korean refugees waiting for their chance to escape right now, and fuel work that is increasing change and opening inside North Korea.



