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.
A Little Story about How the Media Gets North Korea Wrong

The North Korean government did not tell the people to prepare for another famine, but you probably saw headlines like this in the last week.
Here's how a mere mention of the 'arduous march' in the North Korean state media blew up and was incorrectly reproduced by media around the world in the space of a couple of days:
On March 28th, an essay by two North Koreans, Park Ok-kyoung and Choi Yoo-il, was published in the Rodong Sinmun (North Korea’s main paper). It included a passage, which roughly translates to “The road of the revolution is long and tough. There may again be times that call for chewing grass roots during an arduous march, and times that call for fighting the enemy single-handedly on a far-flung island...but we have to keep our single-minded loyalty for our dear marshal to the very end even if it costs our lives...”
The reference to the 'arduous march', the same term used to label the North Korean famine of the 1990s, caused a lot of excitement. But the term predates the 1990s famine. The original ‘arduous march’ was actually in 1938-39. It was a supposedly tough period of time that Kim Il-sung's band of guerrilla fighters had to 'march' through to victory in their fight against the Japanese occupiers. This tale credits Kim Il-sung for the defeat and is a classic 'struggle through adversity to final victory' type of story. So when times got tough in the 1990s, the official propaganda machine kicked in and framed it as a national struggle through adversity on the way to a final victory.
It was also about maintaining autonomy in the face of external threats, which was the context for this piece. The piece was meant to build up to the Party Congress in May, which is a massive political event that requires 'ideological preparation of the masses'.
So did the North Korean government tell the North Korean people to prepare to chew grass to survive another famine? Or to prepare to fight the enemy all by themselves on a far-off island? Not particularly. They basically said that the North Korean people must stick with their leader, even if things get tough, and all shall be overcome. And it also wasn't written in the name of Kim Jong-un (that would make it more of a story), but in the name of two individuals writing for the paper.
So, why did this happen?
Far too few journalists can read Korean, let alone know how to read and interpret North Korean propaganda. But there's a lot of international appetite for stories about North Korea. So once a piece like this gets out that makes sense to journalists with a peripheral awareness of North Korea, it is easy for it to bounce around the global media echo chambers, getting picked up by many outlets without any accuracy check on the interpretation.
Furthermore, the North Korean government isn’t going to come out and correct it. Here's where there is some truth in the statement "when it comes to North Korea news, anything goes." At this point it becomes something that ‘happened’ without actually happening.
On a brighter note, thanks to the deeper economic and food security resilience built up by the bottom-up marketization, private-plot farming, and linkage to the Chinese economy, a recurrence of a famine on the scale of the 1990s is extremely unlikely in North Korea now.
[Post edited on 2016-04-11 for clarity and accuracy]