Walking Forward with Brightness | Joseph’s Story: Part 2

That semester, for the first time in my life, I received an academic award for excellence and made the dean’s list at school. I went on to graduate from high school and study political science at Bard College. After my undergraduate studies, I had the honor to work for former President George W. Bush, who had made it possible for me and other North Koreans to come to America as refugees. Over the years, he has became a personal role model and friend.
Today, I am pursuing a master's degree in Public Administration at the Kennedy School of Government at Harvard University. At Harvard, I’ve met people from all different walks of life. When I met students on government scholarships or born into generational wealth, I did not envy them because I have a dream that is bigger than me and bigger than my life.
But when I met a classmate from Ghana, it was the first time I felt envious. He said, "Kim, I’m learning so much here, and I can’t wait to take these skills and knowledge back home to improve my country after graduation."
I envied him for having a home he could return to. For having the opportunity to try, fail, fail again, and eventually make a difference in his homeland.
I, too, dream of the day when I can finally return to North Korea—when it is a place where every man, woman, and child is free to live with dignity, to learn about the world, and to shape their own identity - one that is not given or defined by the government.

In a free North Korea, I dream of returning to my home in Hoeryong—the last place we were a family together, to see if the pear tree my father had planted is still there.
In a free North Korea, I dream of teaching high school students in my hometown and caring for orphans. My students will attend Harvard University and be able to say, “I’m learning so much, and can’t wait to use these skills to improve my country.”
I know that my dreams might sound impossible, but being here in the US, sharing my story with you should have been impossible. You’re looking at someone who survived a famine, escaped North Korea in broad daylight; an elementary school drop out who is attending the best university in the world, and a former refugee who today serves on the board of the organization that helped him reach freedom.
Since its founding, LiNK has helped nearly 1,400 North Koreans escape to freedom. These aren’t just numbers—they are people like me. Individuals and families whose lives were transformed and whose future generations will only know what it means to live in freedom.

Thank you for standing with us, for your unwavering commitment to the protection, rescue and resettlement of North Korean refugees, and for investing in our future through programs that equip our community with skills and confidence to define our own success and contribute to the change we dream of for North Korea.
No organization has done more to partner, support, empower, and believe in the North Korean people than Liberty in North Korea. It is truly a special organization, and I don’t say this because I have to, now that I sit on the board. To do the work that we do requires an immense level of trust and respect, which begins from the moment North Korean people connect with LiNK and is evident through the actions of the staff, the wisdom of the board, the passion of student chapters, and the incredible commitment of our donors.
From afar, North Korea looks like a country as dark as the sea at night. But it is not a land of darkness, merely a land with darkness. There is suffering and hardship, but there is also unimaginable beauty, immeasurable resilience, and 25 million people who have to choose hope every day.
I know that the journey to freedom cannot be made alone. I am no longer a child. I am wiser today. But that doesn’t mean I have everything figured out. I choose to walk forward not because of the things I am certain about, but in spite of everything I am uncertain about. I choose to walk forward with brightness and hope—for my family, for my people, and for my homeland.
And I hope you will walk with me until finally, we can walk into a free North Korea together.
Read part 1 of Joseph’s story about his escape and arrival in the United States

In freedom, Joseph’s constant striving has led him down a path of extraordinary achievement. Yet in his mind, each opportunity was just the next best way for him to grow his capacity to work on this issue. To have him join the organization's Board of Directors as the first North Korea-born member is truly a full circle moment.
The North Korean people have the same brightness and potential as Joseph. Help make this kind of story possible for more of them.
Humans of North Korea: This is freedom
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I got foreign media from my dad. He was a member of the Korean Workers Party and many of his friends were security agents. They confiscated a lot of foreign media and gave it to my dad and he would bring it home.
Some of my most vivid memories are getting together with my friends at someone’s house, shutting off all the lights, and secretly watching South Korean dramas. It was exhilarating. If you heard anything outside, you’d get startled and think,
“Did they come to arrest us? Are we going to jail now?” It was thrilling doing things we knew we shouldn’t do.
Everything portrayed in the South Korean dramas was so clean and everyone seemed so wealthy. I used to think “Wow, there is such a world out there.” We were taught that South Korea was a poor country but I wondered, “Why can’t we live like that?”
I wanted to wear clothes from the dramas but I couldn’t find them anywhere. We used to get a lot of used clothes from the market down by the harbor. You either find used clothes or fabric and have a tailor make the outfit for you. After three or four days of wearing a new style, everyone would be wearing the same thing because it looked so cool.

My designs were very popular. If I started wearing something new, there was always someone who would wear similarly styled clothes because the number of South Korean dramas that inspired us was so limited. Girls would ask me where I got my clothes and if I wanted to exchange outfits. Bartering was very common and sometimes they’d offer their more expensive clothes in exchange for mine.
But you had to look out for the Inspection Unit. If they caught you wearing jeans and a hoodie, they’d cut the bottom of the jeans with scissors. My sister and brother were older than me so their friends were sometimes in the Inspection Unit. If I knew the person, I would just tell them, “I’ll go change right now” or “I’ll give you these jeans but please don’t cut the bottoms off” and I would go get it back from them later.
The regime doesn’t want people wearing those kinds of clothes. I think it’s because things like jeans symbolize freedom. North Korean society is so restricted that if they allowed jeans there would be no end to what people would want to wear.
Even now in South Korea, every time I put on a pair of jeans I think, “This is freedom.”
- Jihyun Kang escaped North Korea in 2009. She now works in the fashion industry in Seoul.
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