Webcomic: Escape From North Korea
By: Ju Ok Jeon
This webtoon, created by North Korean escapee Ju Ok Jeon, reflects the real risks many North Koreans face when fleeing their home in search of safety, dignity, and the chance to live freely.
About the Artist
Ju Ok Jeon is a North Korean defector who escaped in 2013. Having lived under the Kim Jong Un regime in an oppressed land, she conveys—through webtoons and comics—how precious the values of freedom and dignity truly are, with both sincerity and storytelling power.
Support Ju Ok’s work: @unistudio_juok
From Artist to Activist
As a kid in North Korea, Ju Ok was famous at school for one thing—drawing portraits of people passing gas. Her classmates flocked to her, asking to be drawn in exchange for snacks and even small amounts of money. Nothing made Ju Ok happier than to see people’s faces light up with a big smile, and to laugh together over her creations.
But things came to a halt when a teacher pulled her aside for “disrupting the school environment” with her “unrevolutionary” drawings. Ju Ok’s art supplies were confiscated, and she was warned that her parents could be punished for failing to educate their children.
“I vowed to never draw again because my simple drawings could bring harm to my family. But no matter how hard I studied or worked, opportunities were limited because my family belonged to the labor class. After a relative defected, my social classification [songbun] fell, leaving me destined for a life of forced labor. Realizing there was no hope or future, I decided to escape.”
In freedom, Ju Ok found that there was a lack of public understanding and empathy about North Korean human rights. A few years ago, her husband, who is also an artist, encouraged her to try drawing again.
“After being severely scolded as a child, I hated anything related to drawing. But when my husband told me I have talent, I got chills—thinking, ‘Did I actually used to like this?’
Through illustration, I want to share the reality of North Korea I experienced, my journey toward freedom, and my resettlement in a free society—so the world can hear the voices of those who still long for freedom inside North Korea.”
Ju Ok hopes her art will reach more people and increase support for this issue. In 2025, she participated in the LiNK English Speech Program to hone her storytelling and English speaking abilities.
“The North Korean issue is not only a domestic matter on the Korean Peninsula but also a complex international issue. That is why it is vital to raise awareness globally—and for North Korean defectors to share their stories directly in English. LiNK’s program has played an important role in helping me move toward my life goals.”
Reimagining North Korea’s Future
Liberty in North Korea helps North Koreans reach freedom and reach their full potential through programs that build their capacity to succeed and lead change. With the right support and tools, they’re sharing their stories, utilizing their talents, and building their careers with unwavering purpose—to create a future where every North Korean person can live free and full lives.
Invest in the next generation of North Korean advocates, storytellers, changemakers, and entrepreneurs, like Ju Ok.
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A North Korean Refugee’s Journey - Pursuit of the Freedom to Learn
By Yukyung Lim
Yukyung is a participant of LiNK’s Intensive English Program (LIEP), designed to build the capacity of North Korean English speakers at the intermediate level. In partnership with the British Council, LIEP aims to cultivate participants’ communication and critical thinking skills in English. LIEP is complementary to our broader LiNK English Language Program (LELP), which supports speakers of all proficiency levels.
I was born in North Korea—a place where identities are imposed, voices are silenced, and dreams are tightly confined. There, schooling is not a pathway to opportunity but a means of indoctrination, designed to enforce obedience and suppress individuality. But thanks to my mother’s courage, I never had to undergo that system. She made the bold decision to keep me out of school in North Korea. At age eight, I escaped to China to reunite with her, beginning a journey that would define not only my identity but also my deep, lifelong yearning to learn.
In China, my mother obtained a false identity for me so I could enroll in school. That first day in a rural classroom marked the beginning of a different kind of life. I was behind, anxious, and constantly aware of our fragile situation.
For the first time, however, I was learning not to obey—but to think.
A year later, we moved to Beijing. There, I stepped into a world I had never imagined—one of academic rigor, intellectual freedom, and cultural diversity. It was in that environment that I first witnessed how learning can transform a person. Each lesson, each classroom conversation, opened doors not only to knowledge but also to self expression, confidence, and hope.
One winter afternoon in 2010, I was on my way to the bookstore, backpack heavy on my shoulders. Beijing was bleak and cold that year. Snowflakes fell softly, only to be crushed by cars and vanish into the grime of the streets. That scene reflected my life: I bore a name I couldn’t speak aloud, fears I couldn’t share, and a fragile existence that felt quietly lonely.
Inside the bookstore, warmth greeted me. I wandered through the aisles, searching for a quiet corner to rest. Then, I saw it—a book with a black-and-white cover, its portrait etched in solemn ink. The man’s composed expression exuded a power I longed for. I picked it up, almost unconsciously.
“I Have a Dream.”
“I have a dream that one day... people will not be judged by the color of their skin but by the content of their character.”
“This is the time to make real the promises of democracy.”
“We will not be satisfied until justice rolls down like waters and righteousness like a mighty stream.”
These weren’t just words. They were light, seeping through a crack I hadn’t known existed. In a world that had taught me to stay small and silent, they spoke to a part of me I had hidden away. For the first time, I felt truly seen—not for where I was from or what I looked like, but for my thoughts, my voice, and the quiet strength I carried within.
Later, after arriving in South Korea, I faced new challenges. Though I had returned to my cultural roots, I felt out of place. I was older than my classmates, unfamiliar with many social norms, and unsure of how to fit in. But with time, I began to build friendships and navigate this new society. Again, learning was central—it provided not just academic skills but also the social space to grow and belong.
During university, I studied abroad in Texas. It was my first experience in a Western classroom. I was struck by the openness, the individuality, and the value placed on diverse opinions. Being among students from different backgrounds showed me how perspectives can differ—and how that difference enriches everyone.
Wherever I was—in China, Korea, or the United States—the classroom was where I grew the most. It was where I stepped outside my comfort zone, gained confidence, and slowly came to understand who I was becoming.
Across all these countries, I’ve developed not just a global perspective but a deep appreciation for the transformative power of learning. In each setting, the classroom became both a battlefield and a sanctuary. I struggled, but I also discovered. I learned new languages, absorbed new worldviews, and came to realize that I was more than a refugee or survivor. I was a thinker, a student, and a human being with agency.
And then I understood something deeper: My story is rare—but it shouldn’t be. There are still millions of children in North Korea growing up without the right to question, to dream, or to imagine a world beyond their borders. They deserve more than silence or sympathy. They deserve the same chance I had—to envision a different future and be equipped to pursue it.
That’s why I’m sharing my story through Liberty in North Korea. Because stories hold power. They build bridges, shatter stereotypes, and create connections.
North Korean people are not just victims. They are potential scholars, leaders, creators, and changemakers—if only they are given the freedom to grow.
My dream is to one day build a global school for children who, like me, come from hardship but brim with promise. I want to help others discover the same sense of identity and possibility that learning gave me. Until then, I will continue to advocate, teach, and connect.
If you’re reading this, I hope you’ll join me. Learn more. Speak up. Share stories. Support organizations like LiNK that are fighting to empower North Korean people with freedom, dignity, and opportunity.
Because when you invest in a child’s education, you’re not only changing one life—you’re challenging an entire system and planting seeds for a freer world.
Opportunities like LiNK’s Intensive English Program (LIEP) are helping North Koreans succeed in resettlement, reach their goals, and lead change on this issue. Your support can help us continue to make an impact in the lives of North Korean refugees.
