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Cherie Yang’s TEDx Talk, translated into Finnish by Jasmin Fosse

Cherie Yang

Minun vaikea tie vapauteen, perhe ja tulevaisuus

 

Kuvittele saavasi unelmiesi työ, mutta tajuat, että se onkin painajainen. Voisitte erota, eikö vain? Useimmat ihmiset antavat kahden viikon varoitusajan tai eivät vaan ilmesty töihin.

Minun tapauksessani en voinut erota. Sen takia, koska synnyin Pohjois-Koreassa. Yritin erota ja sain 400 sotilasta ja poliisia perääni.

Pohjois-Korea on maailman pahin maa. Yksi kirjailija sanoi: “ Järjestelmä, missä ei voi elää ― muttei lähteäkään, on helvetin määritelmä.” Tämä on Pohjois-Korea.

Sotilaat ja poliisit jahtasivat minua, koska minä tiesin heidän salaisuutensa. He etsivät minua kaikkialta tarkistaen joka ikiseltä perheen jäseneltä, ystävältä, ja muilta yhteyshenkilöiltä.

Työskentelin hallinnon huvilassa, jonka luulin olevan elämäni mahdollisuus. Minut valittiin työskentelemään hallinnon virkamiehen huvilaan palvelijaksi. Virkamies oli minun kotikaupunkini pormestari. Naiset joka puolella Pohjois-Koreaa unelmoivat tämän kaltaisesta työstä, koska sitä pidetään kunnian arvoisena palvella tällä tavalla Kimin hallintoa. Olin haltioissani minun valinnasta niin kunnian arvoiseen työtehtävään kunnes sain tietää todellisen totuuden huvilan seinien sisällä.

Kun minä ensin saavuin pormestarin huvilaan, muistan olleeni erittäin yllättynyt. Tämän huvilan tilat olivat niin ylellisiä. Ne olivat enemmän kuin mitään, mitä olisin ikinä voinut kuvitella. 1990-luvun nälänhädän aikana 500 000:sta jopa 2 miljoonaan ihmistä kuoli nälkään ja meille kerrottiin kaikkien, mukaan lukien meidän Rakkaan Johtajamme, uhraavan kansan hyvinvoinnin vuoksi. Me uskoimme propagandaan, missä Rakas Johtajamme ja hallinnon virkamiehet tekivät töitä koko päivän taatakseen meille paremman elämän. Sillä hetkellä, kun astuin huvilaan, tajusin hallinnon valehdelleen meille. Sillä aikaa, kun monet pohjoiskorealaiset kärsivät, näkivät nälkää ja kuolivat, Pohjois-Korean hallinnon virkamiehet elivät ylellistä elämää.

Pohjois-Koreassa Kimin hallinnosta kyseleminen olisi hulluutta. Minun kokemukseni huvilassa sai minut kyseenalaistamaan uskollisuuttani hallinnolle.

Minun työtehtäväni oli tarjota virkamiehille heidän ateriansa. Minun täytyi seistä oven ulkopuolella kuin patsas. Kun he tarvitsivat jotain, he kutsuivat minua ja minun täytyi tuoda se heti.

Päivä päivältä minun kehoni ja mielenterveyteni kärsi ja tunsin oloni oli niin yksinäiseksi tietäessäni ettei kukaan täällä välittänyt. Jokainen ohimenevä päivä minä ikävöin perhettäni, sukulaisiani ja ystäviäni enemmän ja enemmän. Tuntui siltä kuin olisin ollut vankilassa. En voinut elää kuten halusin, mutta en voinut lähteäkään. Tiesin heidän salaisuutensa. Tiesin heidän ylellisestä elämäntyylistään ja heidän monista valheistaan.

 

Se, minkä luulin olleen elämäni mahdollisuus, olikin täysin sen vastakohta. Tuntui siltä kuin olisin ollut ansassa. En voinut lähteä huvilasta. Se oli helvettiä. Päätin tehdä sen käsittämättömän teon ja paeta takaisin perheeni luokse. Aloitin suunnittelemaan hyvin varoen. Huvilasta lähteminen tuli olemaan hyvin vaikeaa, koska koko rakennuskompleksissa oli vain yksi ovi sisään ja ulos, jonka luona vartiossa seisoi aseistettu turvamies. Paetakseni huvilasta ainoa vaihtoehtoni oli kiivetä yli 2 metrin korkuisen muurin yli. Eräänä päivänä huomasin hajanaisesti lojuvia kiviä lähellä muuria. Viidentoista päivän ajan minä toteutin minun vaarallista suunnitelmaa keräillen kiviä kasaan kello kahdesta  kello kolmeen aamulla. Viidentenätoista yönä minä pystyin kiipeämään muurin yli kivien avulla.

Pakoni jälkeen minulla meni kaksi tuntia kävellessäni vuorta alas parhaan ystäväni talolle. Pian saapumiseni jälkeen hän ilmoitti minulle, että 400 sotilasta ja poliisia olivat minun perässäni kuulustelemassa ketä tahansa, jolla oli yhteys minuun ja tunkeutuivat ilmoittamatta heidän koteihinsa. He halusivat löytää minut.

Minä elin piilossa. Se oli onnetonta aikaa. Olin sairas, peloissani enkä voinut nähdä perhettäni tai ilmoittaa heille olevani elossa.

En voinut elää, mutta en voinut lähteäkään. Se oli se hetki, kun tajusin, että minun oli lähdettävä Pohjois-Koreasta. Se oli se hetki, jolloin päätin hyväksyä kotimaasta lähtemisen hulluuden.

Ylitin jäätyneen Tumen joen syksyllä vuonna 2002. Vuoden myöhemmin minun vanhempani ja siskoni pakenivat myös. Asuimme kolme vuotta Kiinassa, mikä oli erittäin vaarallista ja epävarmaa pohjoiskorealaisille pakolaisille. Kun olimme Kiinassa, näin dokumentin pohjoiskorealaisista pakolaisista, jotka pakenivat Kiinasta Laosiin. Yhdessä ryhmässä oli mies, jolla oli loukkaantunut jalka. Hän ei voinut kävellä tarpeeksi nopeasti vuorten yli ja he olivat vaarassa jäädä kiinni poliisille. Loukkaantunut mies kertoi ryhmälle heidän täytyvän jättää hänet, jotta he voisivat pelastaa itsensä. He jättivät miehen taakseen, jotta he itse selviävät turvaan ja vapauteen. Minä ajattelin, että tämä ei ikinä tapahtuisi minun perheelleni, mutta se tapahtui.

Etsiessämme vapautta Etelä-Koreasta minun vanhempani lähtivät Kiinasta ensin. Matka Kiinasta Etelä-Koreaan on hyvin vaarallinen. Siksi minun vanhempani ajattelivat, että minä ja siskoni seuraamme perässä, kun he ovat saapuneet turvallisesti perille. Kun he lähtivät, minun isäni jätti meidät näillä sanoilla: “Minä tulen hakemaan teidät Koreaan pian.” Mutta hän ei ikinä tullut takaisin hakemaan meitä. Me emme tienneet, että nuo olivat hänen viimeiset sanansa meille. Puolessavälissä heidän rankaa matkaa vuoria pitkin Thaimaaseen minun isäni sairastui. Valitettavasti hän kuoli Laosissa. Hänet haudattiin Mekongin jokeen. Minä menetin elämäni tärkeimmän mentorini ja isäni, joka rakasti minua niin paljon.

 

Sillä aikaa, kun minä ja siskoni odotimme Kiinassa vanhempiemme paluuta, näin tarinan uutisissa eräistä pohjoiskorealaisesta pakolaisista. Tämä oli yksi niistä monista tapauksista, joissa media on informoinut ja inspiroinut minua ulkomaailmasta. Mutta juuri tämä uutinen kertoi Yhdysvaltoihin muuttaneista pohjoiskorealaisista pakolaisista. Tämä antoi minulle idean. Ajattelin, että menisimme Thaimaaseen tapaamaan vanhempamme, ja sitten menisin Yhdysvaltain suurlähetystöön kysymään lupaa maahanmuuttoon.

Niin me teimme siskoni kanssa. Kaikki pohjoiskorealaiset pakolaiset riskeeraavat elämänsä paetessaan vapauteen. Minä ja siskoni emme olleet mikään poikkeus tälle vaaralle. Me molemmat kannoimme mukanamme partaveitsiä. Me suunnittelimme käyttävän niitä partaveitsiä tekemään itsemurhan viiltämällä ranteet auki, jos olisimme jääneet kiinni. Me emme aikoneet mennä takaisin Pohjois-Koreaan.

Vuonna 2007, viisi vuotta Pohjois-Koreasta lähdön jälkeen, minun äitini, siskoni ja minä menimme Yhdysvaltoihin pakolaisina. Vihdoin olimme vapaita. En voi vieläkään unohtaa sitä tunnetta, kun minä ensimmäistä kertaa saavuin Yhdysvaltoihin. Se oli ensimmäinen kerta sen jälkeen, kun lähdin huvilasta, että pystyin nukkumaan rauhallisesti. Minun painajaiseni kiinni jäämisestä loppuivat vihdoin.

En oikeastaan tiennyt, mitä vapaus tarkoitti, ennen kuin ensimmäistä kertaa tunsin sen. Pohjois-Koreassa olin vanki, esine, hyödyke, joka oli riistetty pois omalta perheeltä hallinnolle käytettäväksi, miten heitä lystää. Vaikka minä nyt olenkin vapaa, miljoonat muut ihmiset eivät ole kohdannut vapautta.

Kun minä olin Pohjois-Koreassa, luulin saaneeni unelmieni työn, mutta se osoittautuikin helvetiksi. En ikinä unohda sitä pelkoa, kun tajusin 400 sotilaan ja poliisin olevan perässäni. “Järjestelmä, missä ei voi elää ― muttei lähteäkään, on helvetin määritelmä.” Minä kasvoin tämän järjestelmän alla ja olin päättäväinen siitä, että minä vihdoin pakenen. Silti olen yksi niistä muutamasta onnekkaasta. Minä en hakenut pelkästään eloonjäämistä. Halusin elää kuten ihminen. Nyt minä olen vapaa nainen ja pystyn elämään kuten itse haluan.

Käännös (Translation by): Jasmin Fosse

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2018-01-10 ZDF Television

*  ZDF Public Television, News segment on TNKR starts at the 24 minute mark (in German), 2018-01-10.

Here’s a summary, as provided by TNKR translator Karin Hanna.

 

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2018-01-06 In Search of a Forgotten Hostage (English version of French article)

January 6, 2018: Journalist Guillaume Piedboeuf just published this in-depth piece on Mr. Hwang and his campaign. A Google translation into English with some minor edits follows below.

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In South Korea, In-cheol Hwang is one of many protesters. Yet, his cause is very singular. His life-long efforts concern his father who was kidnapped in 1969 by the North Korean regime. One month before the Pyeongchang Olympics, The Sun plunges you into the great human story behind a forgotten diplomatic incident between the two Koreas.

In the streets and subway of Seoul, millions of workers and students are moving quickly. They all seem to walk in a rush, with hurried footsteps, their eyes are often glued to their smartphones.

South Koreans are shaped by the hyper-competitive society that surrounds them. They live in the snapshot. The past belongs to museums. The past, it is the Chinese and Japanese occupation. It is the Korean War, then a country torn in its center, destroyed and poor.

In this human tide that submerges Seoul every day, more than a hundred thousand people have already met In-cheol Hwang. Most without realizing it. They went around him on the subway, maybe, or they looked away when walking by his poster on a sidewalk. He is not the only protester in town, after all. There are hundreds, every day, clustered downtown, camping for one cause or another.

Since 2001, In-cheol, 50 years old, has demonstrated alone in the streets of the capital several hundred times. He addresses the unbelieving passersby to tell them about the tragedy of his life: a plane hijacking that occurred in 1969.

Fifteen years to be ignored, according to the main party. In-cheol Hwang, however, has only one claim: that his father should return to South Korean soil, 48 years after being kidnapped by the North Korean regime.

His fight is constantly facing the same problem. A crumbled collective memory that has no concern with the injustices of the past. How could a simple, uneducated worker succeed in settling a half-century old diplomatic incident?

“It would have been so much easier if I had found a good reason to give up, but I always come to the same conclusion. If I give up just because it’s too difficult, I will not be different from those governments and the society that I blame for ignoring and forgetting about my father’s situation.”

In-cheol would probably still be in the street, smashed, standing there with a protest poster in hand, trying to collect signatures at the bottom of a petition, had it not been for a Texan and unexpected help from the nonprofit organization of the latter, an English school for North Korean refugees.

I. THE HIJACKING

On December 11, 1969, Won Hwang, a TV producer for the South Korean MBC network, boarded a domestic flight to Seoul plane at Gangneung Airport, a coastal town in northeastern South Korea some 80 kilometers from the northern border.

In a poor and rebuilding country, Won, 31, was doing surprisingly well. His job at MBC put him in a relatively affluent social class and allowed him to take care of his wife and two young children. His son, In-Cheol, was 2 years old. His daughter, Chan-wook, had been born a few months earlier.

Won was not supposed to be travelling to Seoul, but because of a scheduling conflict, his boss asked him to go to a meeting at the head office of the television network in his place.

At 12:25, a Korean Airlines YS-11 plane left Gangneung airport with four crew members and 47 passengers on board. In the minutes after take-off, the plane dropped off radar screens. The South Korean authorities were trying to determine what happened while the flight was still expected at Gimpo Airport in Seoul.

Did the plane crash? The hypothesis was quickly dismissed. After a few hours, the real story began to emerge. The plane was hijacked to North Korea. Sixteen years after the signing of a truce ending the Korean War (1950-1953), the two Koreas were still at loggerheads. But North Korea has just crossed a dangerous line.

Months later, the passenger testimonials would help determine what really happened on the flight. Ten minutes after takeoff, a passenger who was a North Korean sleeper agent burst into the cockpit. He demanded the plane fly to North Korea. The flight path was changed as three North Korean army fighter jets joined the aircraft to escort it to Sondok Airport on North Korean east coast. After a hard landing, soldiers invaded the aircraft. They blindfolded passengers before leading them off the plane.

The news of the hijacking spread around the world. Two days after the incident, North Korean radio broadcast a message from the two pilots of the plane. They said they fled to North Korea voluntarily. It was hard to believe that they spoke voluntarily. The international community strongly condemned the North Korean government.

On the evening of December 12, some 100,000 South Koreans gathered in the cold night of Seoul to demand the return of the 50 captives. Watched by international media, protesters burned a puppet of North Korean Head of State Kim Il-sung.

Under pressure at the end of December, the latter accepted a negotiation meeting with South Korea for the release of the hostages. During the negotiations held a month later, the North Korean authorities agreed to repatriate the four crew members and 46 passengers.

However, on February 14, 1970, only 39 of the captured passengers were released at the border of the Panmunjom joint military base in the demilitarized zone which separates the two countries. No explanation was given by North Korea for the four crew members and seven passengers that were not released.

They all had specific professional skills, ranging from cameraman to hospital director. One of them was the TV producer Won Hwang.

Several of the released passengers reported being subjected to daily indoctrination sessions during their 66 days of captivity. The goal of such sessions was to convince them of the superiority of North Korean communism. One of the captives  was particularly resistant to North Korean propaganda, according to two different testimonies reported by the newspapers of the time.

“When we were forced to attend indoctrination classes, Mr. Won Hwang refuted their communist theories one by one. Soldiers dragged him outside the room, and he did not return until 14 days later. On New Year’s Day, Mr. Hwang sang a song about his desire to go home and the soldiers dragged him away again. That was the last time we saw him,” said one of the released hostages.

North Korea presents a very different version to the Red Cross when the international body formally requested the return of the 11 missing passengers. They remain in North Korea “at their own will,” the regime says again.

The Red Cross asks Kim Il-sung that a neutral representative travel to North Korea to confirm the detainees’ wishes, but that petition was denied.

At the beginning of 1970, resolutions were adopted by the Security Council and the United Nations General Assembly to force North Korea to repatriate the hostages. In July, the International Civil Aviation Organization, in turn, passed a motion calling for the return of all prisoners of hijacking or boating, but Pyongyang turned a deaf ear.

Faced with the failure of the steps, the fate of the 11 passengers was quietly forgotten.

At the turn of the 70s, South Korea was still far from the economic power it would become 20 years later. The country is just starting to recover from the war. A war that ended in a fragile truce. One can not risk, in the context, a new conflict breaking out.

“The 1969 hijacking is the kind of incident that could have led to a new war. I think that’s why we quickly forgot it. The South Korean government decided to sacrifice some people, including my father, to save the entire population from another war. It was a conscious decision that was taken at the time to ignore a criminal act of North Korea,” said In-cheol Hwang.

II. Dad is on a Business Trip

Until the age of 13, In-cheol Hwang knew nothing about the hijacking. “When I asked my mother where my father was, she told me that he was on a business trip to the United States. Except he never came back. “

For years, his mother refuses to leave the house. A heavy burden for the child. “I had a ban on social activities. Many people thought I was going to be an idiot because I could not do anything. It was difficult.” he recalls.

In 1980, one of his uncles decided to tell him the truth without his mother’s consent. His father was not really in the United States; rather, he was being held somewhere in North Korea. “I was young, but I understood that day that it would be very difficult to see my father again one day.”

In-cheol regretted that his mother hid the truth from him. He describes her as a dejected woman who has lived, since 1969, only a shadow of a life.

Even today, 48 years after his forced departure to North Korea, Won Hwang is officially employed by MBC Gangneung. At the time, the television network’s management committed to continuing to pay a salary to the family of its abducted employee.

According to In-cheol Hwang, maintaining his father’s position at MBC was more than economic value for his mother. It was the hope that he would come back one day and that life would resume.

“My mother always waited for my father’s return. She said he would need a job when he came back. “

In high school, In-cheol learned not to ignore the tragic fate of his father. The South Korean company gradually adopted the official North Korean version of the incident. The opposite would be to admit that South Korea had abandoned 11 of its citizens.

“My teachers asked me what happened to my father. I said he was kidnapped by North Korea. They took me in front of everyone saying, ‘You mean that he voluntarily fled to North Korea.'”

The situation continued as In-cheol moved into adulthood. He hardly talked about his father’s situation, fearing persecution.

“During the first part of my life, I wondered why I was alive. What was my goal on Earth? I felt there was something I had to do, but I did not know yet what that was. My twenties were chaotic, but I eventually decided to live my life in a way that would not shame my father. After getting married, I lived a normal life… until 2001.

III. THE HISTORICAL MEETING

On June 13 2000, South Korean President Kim Dae-jung arrived in Pyongyang for a historic summit with his North Korean counterpart Kim Jong-Il. For the first time since the end of the war in 1953, the leaders of the two Koreas met.

The three-day summit ended with a handshake and a toast between the two heads of state. Kim Dae-jung and Kim Jong-Il signed an important deal for Koreans. On the one hand, the rich South Korea would offer economic aid to its neighbor. An approach called The Sunshine Policy. On the other hand, the two Koreas would work together to reunite families separated by war. There were hundreds of thousands on either side of the border who had not been able to see their fathers, mothers, husbands, wives, or children for half a century.

More than 76,000 South Koreans wanting to see a loved one in North Korea applied. The list of eligible candidates was then forwarded by the Red Cross to the North Korean government, which confirmed a fraction of those whose relatives were still alive. Finally, a lottery determined the 200 South Koreans who could met their relatives.

On August 15, a plane flanked by the starry red flag of the Kim Jong-Il regime landed on the tarmac at Gimpo Airport, Seoul, with 100 passengers. They had three days in South Korea at a specified location with their relatives. The plane left with a hundred South Koreans who would be reunited with one or more relatives in Pyongyang.

Three days later, everyone must said goodbye probably for the last time. Older couples burst into tears and hugged and agreed the reunion was worth the effort. After a life of turmoil, they could now die in peace.

In-cheol Hwang could only imagine that feeling. He submitted his candidacy but was not selected. A meeting with relatives of the other passengers of the YS-11 was organized for the occasion. For the first time in his life, In-cheol could talk about the kidnapping of his father with people who understood him.

Hope returned. Faced with the success of the first meeting event of divided families, the Red Cross and the governments of the two Koreas decide to repeat the experience.

A few months later, the mother of Kyung-hee Sung, a YS-11 stewardess, won the lottery to determine who could next be reunited with relatives residing in North Korea. She would be reunited with her daughter some 31 years after the hijacking.

The touching mother-daughter encounter was captured by South Korean cameras in Pyongyang on February 26, 2001. A report recalling the tragic fate of the 11 captives of the YS-11 was broadcast for the occasion.

Sitting at home, In-cheol, who had become a father, looked at everything on his television with his two-year-old daughter on his knees. Tears streamed down his cheeks.

“My daughter was the same age I was when my father was kidnapped. She was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. Something I would not trade for anything in the world. I still had this pain in me having my father kidnapped. But on that day, another even more intense pain was added. I imagined how my father must have felt, a parent forcibly separated from his children.”

“Viewing those images radically changed my life. That day, I decided that I absolutely had to see my father again.”

IV. THE FRIGHTFUL SILENCE

In his spare time, In-cheol Hwang began collecting newspaper clippings, book excerpts, and testimonies proving that his father was illegally detained. He sought international law articles that supported his claims. North Korea had been holding hostages for several decades, but it needed to be proven.

In parallel, the young father protested alone when he had the opportunity, trying to raise awareness of his compatriots to his cause. Easier said than done. The younger generation had never heard of the hijacking. In their collective memory, it was buried under several decades of other diplomatic incidents between the two Koreas.

In-cheol Hwang joined a South Korean group of families of abduction victims. But with that group, his cause was relegated to the background due to the more recent kidnappings of fishermen in the Sea of ​​Japan and the Yellow Sea.

Under its expansion, an association formed only of relatives of the captives of the YS-11 was formed. However, the process disappeared after a few years due to the inability of the group to make its claims heard.

At irregular intervals, meetings of Korean families continued. Each time, In-cheol Hwang hoped to be one of the lucky ones. Each time, success eluded him. He asked for explanations from the Red Cross. In 2006, it finally relayed an official response from the North Korean government. His application was declared inadmissible because it was impossible to confirm if his father was still alive. That answer, which In-cheol had waited six years for, enraged answer him.

The information available to him suggested that his father was still alive in the 1990s. A call received at the time from a South Korean secret service agent told him, on condition of anonymity, that his father was employed by a North Korean propaganda television. A post that would have been logical considering his experience as a TV producer in South Korea.

In-cheol intensified his efforts. He went to the National Assembly and various government buildings weekly, but he failed to meet with senior officials. He sent letters to international organizations without response. He wrote petitions demanding the return of his father and he roamed the streets of Seoul in search of signatures.

“Everyone told me I was crazy. Simply crazy. I was thought ridiculous. My wife was the sole exception. From the beginning, she told me that what I was trying to do was right.”

But after a few years, In-cheol Hwang’s family became discouraged. The cause was poorly publicized and morale was low. “For each of my events that received some media coverage, there were at least 100 that nobody talked about.”

Between minimum wage jobs and his fight to find his father, he struggled to make ends meet. In debt, he become a credit risk in the eyes of the banks. That low credit rating prevented him from getting any kind of loan. In-cheol felt stuck. Through his struggle, he was destroying his own family. “I had to make a choice.”

He stopped the demonstrations and tried to accept that he would never see his father again. Then he changed his mind. He could not shut up and stop.

During a meeting of families of captives from North Korea, he managed to talk with the South Korean Deputy Minister at the Unification. The latter explained that relations with North Korea were too sensitive and important for his government to bring back an old diplomatic incident such as the hijacking of aircraft.

In-cheol did not give up. He listed his father as a captive with the United Nations Working Group on Arbitrary Detention. In 2012, he began a tour of events across different South Korean cities. 15,000 signatures were added to his petition.

“My wife was skeptical that these signatures would change anything. But for me, those signatures were hope.”

With that new hope, he felt that his cause was moving forward. But slowly, hope faded. His struggle for his father swallowed him up. “I felt that I was doomed to fight all my life without anyone really listening to me,” he recalls, before quoting Martin Luther King Jr.:

It is against this appalling silence that In-cheol Hwang has lived. “It was like I was on a thin path, completely in the dark. There was no way out. I could not go back, but going forward was also scary. I was alone in the cold of loneliness,” he describes. “I felt like that until I met Casey.”

V. THE TEXAN WHO DREAMED OF A BETTER WORLD

Casey Lartigue Jr. was 12 years old when, in the comfort of his home in Texas, he read Frederick Douglass’s three autobiographies. In his writings, the former slave turned leader of the American abolitionist movement of the nineteenth century stresses the importance for everyone to control their own lives. The importance, too, of freedom of movement. The universal right to move. “His words moved me from a young age,” says Casey, himself an African-American.

More than a decade later, that Texan found himself on the benches of Harvard University, finishing as a master’s student at the Harvard Graduate School of Education. “So many of my classmates talked about working at the United Nations or at UNESCO. I used to say, “Where are the people in all these big plans? Where does the individual have autonomy” There was no answer to that because the structure of these big organizations work from top to bottom. “

Shaped by the writings of Frederick Douglass, Casey Lartigue is opposed to the idea of ​​determining for others, especially the oppressed, what is best for them. “If you are in a position to design a program helping others, then it needs to be designed so that people still have power. Individuals need power to choose for themselves. “

After Harvard, he taught English abroad, then returned to the United States to accept an education analyst position at the Cato Institute. He became known for helping to create an education scholarship program for disadvantaged youth in Washington DC, bringing his case to the US Congress.

In 2011, the Texan accepted a think tank offer in Seoul. His Korean adventure quickly took an unexpected turn.

In early 2012, about thirty North Korean fugitives on the run were caught by the Chinese authorities. As the agreement between the two allies, the refugees would be sent back to North Korea.

“There were demonstrations in Seoul against the Chinese embassy. After participating in a few, I started recruiting expats so that more people could join, to show it wasn’t just South Koreans and North Korean refugees who cared about this case, “says Casey Lartigue.

A turning point came when he met Park Sun-young, a South Korean MP who had started a hunger strike in response to the arrest of North Korean refugees in China. The American introduced himself to Prof. Park, pledging to do more to help North Korean refugees. “She had no idea who I was. She asked me to be a teacher at the new school she was starting for North Korean refugees. I said no, because I was not a teacher. I told her that instead of teaching that I could volunteers eager to teach. “

Casey decided to start his own English project helping North Korean refugees. Instead of adults, it would be for North Korean refugee adults who dream of a career in South Korea or internationally, who want to tell their story, but are hampered by their inability to speak the language of Shakespeare.

He built his organization as he had always imagined humanitarian aid. It gives freedom of choice to the refugees. “In our program, refugees choose their language helpers and mentors. They also choose what they want to study. They feel good because they enter the room and they know that people there are waiting for the chance to work for them and that they have the power to choose who will help them. So many refugees told us it was the first time in their lives that they had a choice. “

A few years after the creation of the project, Casey Lartigue now devotes full time to Teaching North Korea Refugees (TNKR), which he co-founded with South Korean researcher Eunkoo Lee. He has been offered positions in major international organizations. He chose his small organization, raising money on his own and rarely sleeping.

“I always do what interests me. It’s my life. I go where I want to go without following a pre-established course. “

Just spend a few minutes with him to understand that 24 hours are not enough to complete his days. He has no time for futile discussions. Send him an email, you will receive an automated answer apologizing in advance for the time of his answer. The reason is simple: Casey is, like TNKR, always active, busy, doing something.

The organization’s office is not likely to be confused with those of the United Nations. At the end of an alley off a major thoroughfare in Seoul, the small organization struggles to meet the demands of refugees. When too many of them want to take a class at the same time, Casey gives up his office and goes to work at a nearby café, as he did on this day. “The place is theirs first.”

In the context, it may seem difficult to understand why the tiny organization and its co-founder, since April 2016, have embarked on a complex international diplomacy dossier concerning the hijacking of an aircraft in 1969.

VI. UNUSED SUPPORT

It is a coincidence that the fates of Casey Lartigue and In-cheol Hwang met in March 2016 when TNKR co-hosted a workshop to highlight the work of Seoul-based humanitarian organizations.

“One of the six organizations that we wanted to present was very slow in confirming. We began considering others when our colleagues from the Transitional Justice Working Group (TJWG) recommended the representative of the families of the 1969 hijacking. “

Casey had heard about it but had not read about it in detail. Listening to In-cheol Hwang speak, he immediately decided to get involved.

“I thought, ‘He’s been fighting like this mostly alone for 15 years? I must do something.'”

The tragic fate of Won Hwang touched a chord with the Harvard graduate: the writings of Frederick Douglass. The captives of flight YS-11 have been deprived for nearly 50 years of the universal right to move.

At the end of the day, seminar participants were invited to volunteer with the organizations. Several people shared their contact information with In-Cheol, offering to help.

“But two weeks later, I followed up to check. No one was doing anything to help,” says Casey Lartigue. “So I decided to get more deeply involved to try to get things started.”

At his Seoul office, he can not drive out of his mind the image of In-cheol Hwang, again alone in the street, shouting his distress to a world ignoring him. The American makes him a suggestion: In-cheol should join TNKR as a student, then the organization would try to build a team around him.

“It was clear to us that it was his fight first and foremost. He was offered a platform and the opportunity to recruit volunteers.” I said to myself, ”He’s being fighting, usually by himself, for 15 years, I have to do something ”.

A few months later, a demonstration was organized by TNKR at the Freedom Bridge, in the demilitarized zone on the border of the two Koreas. There were about ten volunteers gathered with In-cheol Hwang. “Most people would say we had failed because there were only about 10 of us, but he told us that he felt that he had a million man army with him,” Casey says.

In-cheol’s sister, Chan-wook (Cecelia O’Hare), even traveled from England, where she lives, eager to learn a little more about the mysterious group of good Samaritans who decided to join her brother. She has followed her brother’s campaign for years without getting involved. She was moved by the kindness and seriousness of TNKR’s volunteers.

It has been years since she had seen her brother smile. She told Casey Lartigue that day. “You are the one who makes invisible people visible,” she said.

The event attracted media coverage that In-cheol could not have dreamed of. All thanks to the work done upstream by the small team of volunteers.

Among them, no one is more important than Youngmin Kwon, a South Korean who had just joined TNKR two weeks before the demonstration at the Freedom Bridge. “I had never seen him before. He said he wanted to help,” says Casey.

Originally a law student at Georgetown University in Washington, Youngmin Kwon was on sabbatical for medical reasons in the spring of 2016. A volunteer for Amnesty International in the United States, he has always dreamed of a career in humanitarian action.

He had heard about In-cheol Hwang and come to TNKR to help out. Six months after meeting Mr. Hwang, the student still has not returned to study in the United States. He found in his native land the cause of his life.

Youngmin Kwon now devotes his weeks to organizing gatherings, soliciting international organizations, and translating Korean into English for In-cheol. The fate of Won Hwang and the passengers of the YS-11 consumes him.

If you ask Youngmin for news about himself, he will give you Mr. Hwang’s news. Talk to him about what you can do with your life, he will explain how you could help Mr. Hwang with a very little effort, such as by translating Hwang’s petition into French and by sharing it on Facebook.

“Youngmin has become his eyes, his ears, and his mouth,” says Casey Lartigue.

VII. WIND TURNS

“The silence of society and the government did not change immediately after meeting Casey,” In-cheol Hwang admits. TNKR did not arrive with a quick fix. He was aware of it.

But during the two hours spent telling his story, the man was no longer the shadow of himself he was a few years ago. He not only smiles, he even laughs.

“I feel that I finally have the power to raise my voice. With that came hope. For someone who has suffered as much as I have, the smallest glimmer of hope is an immense source of power. There is now a light that helps me to move forward. I still do not know how long the road will be, but I feel I can overcome one obstacle at a time. “

In 2016, in the wake of the Freedom Bridge rally, a man whom In-cheol Hwang refers to by his codename “Superman”  contacted him. “Superman”, according to In-cheol, is a South Korean with important connections in North Korea. Through his contacts, he was able to trace Won Hwang. He is still alive at age 80, living in a village near Pyongyang under constant surveillance.

Suddenly, his father’s release is no longer an unreachable dream for In-cheol Hwang. “I am convinced today that it is not something of the past. This is a humanitarian cause that requires a formal request to the North Korean regime. “

“Bring My Father Home”, his online petition, has been translated into seven languages, and his story has begun to make waves internationally. From England, Chan-wook Hwang (Cecilia O’Hare), has finally decided join the fight to see her father again. The Sun  and The Daily Mail published articles about her in December, 2017.

The latest annual report of the Office of the United Nations High Commissioner for Human Rights (OHCHR) devoted a full page to the story of Won Hwang and his son’s struggle. Youngmin Kwon talks about these few paragraphs of a document of more than 200 pages with stars in their eyes.

“For someone who has suffered as much as me, the smallest glimmer of hope is an immense source of power. There is now a light that helps me to move forward.” In-cheol Hwang.

On 19 December, the United Nations General Assembly adopted a resolution condemning the human rights violations committed in North Korea for a 13th consecutive year. For the first time, however, the resolution called for the North Korean regime to confirm the status, whether dead or alive, of family members separated between the two Koreas.

Slowly, the winds of change seem to be blowing.

“The South Korean government has so far refused to do anything I have asked them to do to help repatriate my father. That is why I am appealing to the conscience of the 21st century.” says In-cheol.

“People see this case in a very complex way, but for me, it has become very simple since I met Casey. As time passes, things become clearer. South Koreans are changing too. By placing one piece of the puzzle after another, I feel certain that we will succeed and I will see my father again. I believe that people’s conscience will ultimately allow justice to triumph.”

This is what has happened to In-cheol Hwang; his renewed faith in the world around him. 15 years of loneliness and indifference have ended, all because a handful of volunteers have decided to help him. The mere fact that some people are as outraged as he is about his father’s plight has allowed In-cheol to reconcile with his fellow human beings.

Casey Lartigue can not guarantee that the Hwangs will one day be reunited. Who knows if North Korea will ever fold? Who knows if “Superman” was not wrong and that Won Hwang is not already dead?

But whether his father’s life ends on South Korean or North Korean soil, Casey, Youngmin, and TNKR will have at least saved a life.

The life of a son. The life of In-cheol Hwang.

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2017-12-27 북한이탈주민의 한국 정착 돌파구, 영어! 그리고 TNKR in Leadership Korea Magazine

http://www.magazinelk.kr/bbs/board.php?bo_table=2017&wr_id=50

http://magazinelk.kr/bbs/board.php?bo_table=2017_m&wr_id=31

북한이탈주민의 한국 정착 돌파구, 영어! 그리고 TNKR

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2018-01-06 Global Journalist: “An American in Seoul helps North Korean refugees”

An American in Seoul helps North Korean refugees,” by Rayna Sims in the Global Journalist.

“You can’t save the world” Russian translation by Meruyert Didar

Вы не можете спасти мир – вот что мы можем сделать | Casey Lartigue Jr & Eunkoo Lee | TEDxDongdaemun

Translated by Meruyert Didar

 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yFaXvG-rSmQ&index=1&list=PL-6_xImxyTAJw3qeFJBXFv6fSCFEOb9eG

Ын Гу: Я. Была. Неправа. Большинство людей не любят признавать, когда они ошибаются, но я не против, потому что в этом случае это показало мне красоту выбора. Прежде чем я объясню, в чем я ошибалась, я бы хотела поделиться одним из многих отзывов, которые изменили мое мышление. Ын Хи Парк, одна из 300 северокорейских беженцев, с которыми мы работали последние четыре года, сказала: «TNKR (Программа по обучению северокорейских беженцев) изменила мою жизнь, она открыла для меня совершенно другой новый мир. Мне было стыдно говорить людям, что я из Северной Кореи, но теперь у меня есть смелость не скрывать свое лицо или имя. Каждый день я благодарна Кейси и Ын Гу за то, что они помогли мне обрести уверенность в себе». Это прекрасный отзыв. Как это произошло? Read more

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2018-01-04 Anyone else spot a trend?

In the last two days at the TNKR office:

* Open House with volunteers interested in joining TNKR

* Interviews with nine refugees entering or rejoining TNKR.

*  Two Refugee Adjustment Transition Sessions for refugees on TNKR’s Waiting List.

*  Two interviews by major media

Support TNKR (via PayPal)

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Listen to the refugees in theory, or practice

Several refugees came into the office the last two days. One of the questions I ask them is: What is your main learning goal?

Their responses the last two days:

  • Conversation.
  • Conversation, grammar.
  • Conversation, grammar.
  • Conversation.
  • Conversation.
  • Writing and Speaking.
  • Conversation.
  • Conversation

Anyone spot a trend?

Some tutors joining TNKR think I’m a bit rough when I correct the mistakes of refugees, especially in Kakao exchanges. Should I listen to the refugees, then ignore what they say? When refugees join TNKR, I ask them if they would like to be corrected immediately or later on. The responses the last two days:

Immediately.
Immediately.
Immediately.
Immediately.
Immediately.
Immediately.
Immediately.
Immediately.

Anyone spot a trend? Is it unreasonable for me to correct their mistakes on the spot? I tell some of the sensitive teachers who worry that I’m being rough on the refugees: “Don’t worry. North Korean refugees are used to self-criticism in North Korea.” I then add, “Over the last few years, so many refugees have thanked me for correcting their mistakes, some have told me that it was the first time they had been corrected.”

I ask students if they want tutors to use Korean when teaching. Their responses the last two days, as translated by TNKR National Director Eunkoo Lee:

  • The tutors should use English. When I first studied Chinese, I knew nothing. They didn’t teach me using any Korean, but I learned Chinese anyway. I have been in this kind of situation before, I can handle it.
  • That is okay if the tutors want to use Korean to teach me. But I don’t want it. It is better to use English only, then I can learn faster.
  • That’s okay, but I already speak Korean. What I need is for a teacher to teach me in English.
  • Definitely I am okay for the teachers to use Korean, I am at such a low-level that the teachers may have trouble teaching me. But TNKR is English-focused, right?
  • I hope the teachers can understand some Korean. My English level is so low that the teachers may not want to teach me. I hope they will teach me in English.
  • No, I don’t want the teachers to use Korean. I heard that TNKR is the place where teachers only use English, that’s why I came here. I already studied in a class with the teacher using Korean, I don’t feel that I learned. Now I hope I can study only in English.
  • I am okay because I am at the ABC level. But I hope the teachers will use English, not Korean. I need to improve everything about English, I heard that the teachers in TNKR only use English.
  • Using Korean doesn’t seem to be a good approach. I really prefer that the teachers only use English. If the teacher uses Korean, then maybe I will rely on it too much so I won’t learn.

Anyone spot a trend? They say they want English. Should I listen to them or just ignore them? When they agree to the use of Korean, it is to make the teachers feel comfortable because the refugees believe the teachers will be bored and disappointed with their low English levels. What I have learned is that once the basic level English learners are with tutors that they will give in if the tutors use Korean or some of the refugees who lack confidence will use Korean. We tell the tutors to remain firm, but some allow the refugees to run from English. And then we have the occasional tutor who insists on using Korean.

I guess the prospective volunteers who join us and try to tell me how to run TNKR believe I haven’t learned anything after working with more than 300 North Korean refugees the last few years and interviewing many of them over the last few months. Most of what we hear from refugees is good, although yesterday we did hear from one of the refugees about one of the tutors inviting her to join his religious and personal activities without informing us.

Academic Coordinator Janice Kim embraces our approach and she reminds tutors of the importance of teaching the refugees in English.

Support TNKR (via PayPal)

TNKR in the media

Some people are amazed by how much media coverage TNKR gets. No one is more amazed by it than I am.

  • We don’t have a paid staffer handling media.
  • We don’t have a media specialist.
  • We don’t have a media list.
  • The volunteers handling our main social media are English teachers in South Korea who want to help us in their spare time.
  • I run our main Facebook group, which is like having asking a hungry bear to pat you on the head. Is anyone surprised that I get banned by Facebook about once a month and have probably had my account downgraded so that fewer people will see my messages? 

I have been asked what is our secret to getting so much media coverage. The answer is so simple.

We do great work.

We attract media based on the great and important work that our team does. Some people want to give me credit, but I suspect that we receive a lot of media coverage despite me.

Hwang In-Cheol declared it is a “miracle” how much the media has been paying attention to his campaign to have his father released from North Korea.

Big-time media interviewing me.

I found my home: A face made for radio, being interviewed by a radio outlet.

I love TV people because they don’t run from cameras.

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Refugee Adjustment Transition Process (AKA, In-house tutoring)

We received some bad news: Our landlord has put our building on the real estate market. Our lease will be up in July 2018, so at that time we may have to move out, depending on the next landlord. We *may* have to move out. I mentioned this on Facebook, we immediately had some people asking when we were moving out. I’m surprised there wasn’t  a moving truck in front of the TNKR office this morning, as arranged by fans who concluded we must move out immediately.

Others may be panicking, but TNKR has been so unstable for so many years that we are surprised to have had stability since July 2016.

We love this office, but we will need to upgrade eventually.

  • We would like to have more tutors and students come to our building to have a closer relationship. Some volunteers join us, get picked by refugees, then we never see them again (and even get bothered by our demand that they include us in all conversations with refugees they meet through us and are lazy about sending in tutoring reports).
  • We would like to talk to refugees more often to make sure they are having a good experience. In occasional calls, they tell us a lot, but naturally we learn much more in face-to-face discussions at our office.
  • We would like to attend more classes.
  • One refugee who has been studying with us for months (but also missed several classes) still can’t answer basic questions. After I tested her, she and her tutor kind of woke up, and became more focused in their class. She was no longer sleep walking and the tutor was reminded that he doesn’t need to over-teach.
  • A refugee told us yesterday that two of her tutors speak so fast that she can’t understand anything they say, but the tutors haven’t sensed it and haven’t adapted to the refugee’s level (she says her other tutors bring things down to her level).

We now have two volunteers tutoring refugees in our office. We always learn something from joining the classes briefly and talking with both the refugee and tutor after the class. Youngmin has been our main tutor helping refugees get prepared for the Matching sessions. We have occasional drop-ins offering to help, but we do need stability with this part of the program. Alex has now joined us and pledged to be with us long-term.

We would like to expand this part of TNKR so we can help more refugees get prepared before they join the main part of TNKR, but we must be careful to expand this because we don’t have adequate classroom space, not enough tutors who can commit to come to our office regularly, and we still must keep our activities focused on the main parts of TNKR (Matching sessions of Track 1 and 2 so refugees can choose their tutors and coaches and have flexibility).

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TNKR Open House

We had a fantastic Open House session last night. Several attendees came up with ideas for events, fundraising and other activities.

I love these sessions, great brainstorming, last night we came together like a team.

The hard part? The follow up. That team scatters into different directions, people don’t answer follow up messages or they disappear never to be heard from again, some people start hanging out doing things unrelated to the reason we came together.

At some point, we are going to have a Volunteer Coordinator who can take charge of talking with volunteers and even have a person in charge of managing Open House sessions.

We have volunteers last night who volunteered to help with and join our Book Club, to translate TNKR material into other languages, to join as tutors and coaches, to help with social media, to connect us with larger organizations and websites that can bring awareness, and most importantly, with fundraising.

 

 

Volunteer reading about Hwang In-Cheol’s campaign to have his father freed from North Korea.

Support the Bring My Father Home campaign

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2018-01-02 ‘Will my tutors quit?’

TNKR co-founder and National Director Eunkoo Lee received a phone call from a refugee who joined us recently. Her main comments and questions for Eunkoo:

Are my teachers okay even though I am an ABC level English speaker? They must be having a tough time dealing with me. So they might want to quit?

I was determined to try English only, but when I met my teachers, I guessed that some of them might be willing to use Korean because of my low level. But none of them have used it and one told me that it is against TNKR policy. I think this shows that TNKR teachers understand how refugees need to study English.

I am so happy to continue studying, but I am worried that my teachers will be bored helping a student like me who is so basic at English.

In addition to that student:

  • Eunkoo had three face-to-face interviews with refugees eager to join TNKR.
  • A refugee who is really eager called to ask if he can join the next Matching session. He recently joined us and wants to study more.
  • A refugee who has been studying in TNKR consistently since joining in early 2016 called to ask if she can rejoin soon.
  • A refugee who did not have a good experience in the past now sent a long message saying that she can now understand our approach. At that time (2014 or 2015), she thought there was a problem that we did not have a set curriculum that students had to follow. But she has heard from other refugees about the way the teachers adjust to the students, and she can see that she wasted her opportunity to study with us because she was waiting to be led by the teachers.
  • Plus many nice notes and messages from refugees in TNKR over the holidays and today.

When we have so much activity around us, of refugees reaching out to us, I think about those “experts” who “know” that refugees are passive and need to be led.

***

Support TNKR (PayPal)

Read more

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Eben’s Notes: “Will my tutors quit?”

The dedicated volunteer tutors for TNKR (Teach North Korean Refugees), have increased significantly in numbers and they are eager to teach North Korean refugees English. However, there have been concerns by some of the refugees who enter the Track 1 program of learning Basic English.

At the basic Track 1 level, some of the refugees have fears that their tutors might choose to quit. Why? The refugees worry that at the ABC level of English their tutors may have a rough time dealing with them.

TNKR co-founder and National Director, Eunkoo Lee, had three face-to-face interviews with refugees eager to join the TNKR program.

The following concerns and the feedback are highlighted in the following article:

In this update, there are many issues addressed such as, “will my teachers quit?” Or, “Listen to the refugees in theory, or practice”.

Co-founders Casey Lartigue Jr., and Eunkoo Lee, are learner-centered and demand focused, always insisting that English be spoken to the refugees instead of Korean, and the opportunity for the refugees to have freedom of choice by choosing their own tutors. Their methods of teaching has remained consistent since their inception in 2013.

Many experts beg to differ with TNKR’s approach to teaching English to NK refugees, but have been proven wrong over and over. “The proof is in the pudding”.