I. English and North Korean migrants
Mee-Soo was a good student in North Korea. She came to South Korea in her early teens, and South Korean state policy for North Korean defectors enabled her to gain entry into a decent university in Seoul. She majored in Business Management and, when she had to choose her sub-major, she chose Accounting over Marketing and Human Resources because she thought she could avoid English. Achieving CPA (Certified Public Accountant) status was the goal for Accounting majors. Passing a score of 700 in the Test of English for International Communication (TOEIC) was a requirement to take the CPA exam. Mee-Soo worked hard studying for TOEIC and took the test ten times. Her score rose from the 400s to the 600s, but she could not pass the 700 threshold and was left behind while other South Korean students passed the English requirement. She could not even begin to study for the CPA exam itself. She once sighed and told me (one of the authors), ‘I wish I could have a life without English.’ I responded, ‘I didn't think English would be so important to North Koreans in South Korea.’ To this, Mee-Soo exclaimed, ‘It is a matter of survival.’ Footnote 1
Given there have now been over 70 years of separation between North and South Korea since the Korean War, it is unquestionable that North Korean migrantsFootnote 2 face and struggle with a variety of troubles in their attempts to settle into South Korean society. In this context, why does English constitute a ‘matter of survival’ for North Koreans when there are so many other critical issues for these individuals, who crossed several borders at the risk of their lives? This phenomena, that ‘English’ represents a major difficulty for North Korean defectors in their process of settling in South Korea (Jung & Lim, Reference Jung and Lim2009), constitutes an interesting linguistic phenomena in an intra-ethnic contact. However, by itself, this statement somewhat simplifies how English actually affects the migrant group. Instead, its influence works in a surprisingly diverse number of ways across different ranges and layers within the North Korean population, depending on their regional and social background, age, time of migration, and possibly many other factors. A meaningful pattern we discuss here is the changing relations between English and North Korean migrants according to age; it is the North Korean young adults who seem to be particularly affected by English and disproportionately in need of English teaching. We also note, though, that this pattern itself is changing, as we are seeing the recent increase of children of North Korean migrants born and educated in South Korea or in China.
In this paper, we delve into questions regarding when, how, and why, English becomes an important issue for North Korean migrants in South Korea. Specifically, we ask: 1) what prior English experience do North Korean migrants bring to South Korea; 2) how do they experience English in South Korea, or how specifically does English affect the migrants; and 3) what implications do their experiences have regarding current English practices relating to migrants, particularly in terms of English teaching services? We draw on a wide range of scholarly and media articles and government statistics, as well as the two authors’ research and personal communications with both North Koreans and other practitioners working with North Koreans.
Existing studies on the topic of ‘English and North Korean migrants’ usually describe migrants’ difficulties with English, compare the two Koreas’ English education systems, and suggest ways to better serve them (Choi, Reference Choi2014; Jung & Kim, Reference Jung and Kim2015; Kim, Reference Kim2016; Lee, Yang & Kwon, Reference Lee, Yang and Kwon2005; Park & Kim, Reference Park and Kim2014). Although this represents an important aspect of the topic, we have also observed not only what we can give to them, but also what they can give to us. Coming from a society isolated from the world, their experiences with the global language yielded new insights and implications about what English means in the global society. Also, we have seen the fascinating potential of what these individuals can do and can be with English because of the unique positions they have. We want to use this paper to critically examine the underlying assumptions of mainstream research and practices, and suggest a different perspective regarding English education for North Korean students, a new way to connect English and North Korean migrants.
II. North Koreans’ prior experiences: Why are their levels of English so low?
South Korean teachers or researchers working with North Korean defectors commonly remark on North Koreans’ extremely low levels of English, emphasizing their lack of basic English knowledge (Choi, Reference Choi2014; Jung & Kim, Reference Jung and Kim2015; Kim, Reference Kim2016; Park & Kim, Reference Park and Kim2014). Surveys focusing on their English (e.g. Jung & Lim, Reference Jung and Lim2009; Park & Kim, Reference Park and Kim2014) show that many North Korean defectors do not know anything about English and often barely know the alphabet or know only a few English words before entering South Korea. Individual proficiencies certainly differ, depending on many factors. However, it is also clear that there is a general ‘lack of basic English’ among North Korean migrants, with or without prior schooling before coming to South Korea (this is backed up by both the existing literature and the two authors’ own experiences with numerous North Korean students). In this section, we center our discussion around this question of why North Korean defectors’ English abilities are ‘extremely low,’ suggesting at least three common factors.
First is North Korea's socialist policy of isolationism. While other socialist states began to join the global economy in the 1990s, North Korea has remained more or less cut off from the global community to the present day. It is a state where the masses are not allowed access to the World Wide Web and people are heavily restricted in travelling and communication, not only across its border, but also within the country itself (Demick, Reference Demick2010). Consequently, North Koreans do not share the global habitus of the outside world, both culturally and linguistically.
Somewhat ironically, the North Korean state has actively promoted English in its national curriculum and higher education policies, particularly following the fall of the Communist Bloc (Jung & Cho, Reference Jung and Cho2017; Lee et al., Reference Lee, Yang and Kwon2005), which is itself a highly interesting case of linguistic globalization. The state rationalized learning the language of the ‘capitalist enemy’ by linking English with modern science and technology (Jung & Cho, Reference Jung and Cho2017; Lee et al., Reference Lee, Yang and Kwon2005). What seems to happen is that North Korean students learn English with minimal cultural contact. For most people, English only appears in its written form through school textbooks. One North Korean defector told one of the authors that when she saw the word ‘banana,’ she had no idea what it was. Another defector told a story to the other author of how, when the word and the picture of a ‘pineapple’ appeared in a textbook, nobody knew what it was and the teacher taught it as a pine cone.
Second is the problem of schooling for both the defectors hiding in Asian countries, and residents inside North Korea. Since the Great Famine, or what North Koreans call the ‘Arduous March’ of mid 1990s, a devastating economic collapse that starved thousands of North Koreans to death (Demick, Reference Demick2010), defectors began to cross the border into China in search of a means of survival, risking punishment from both sides of the border. As illegal refugees in China, or other South Asian countries on their route to South Korea, the ‘stateless children’ of North Koreans had to hide their identities and were, very often, deprived of access to formal education (Lee & Kang, Reference Lee, Kang, Miller, Cameron, Dalli and Barbour2017)
Schooling inside North Korea was not much better. The whole system was weakened considerably after the Arduous March, which did indelible harm to North Korean education (Han, Reference Han1999). It pushed the majority of both teachers and students out of their classrooms for survival, in search of food, and as a means of making money. Once the socialist distribution system collapsed, teachers were not paid, a situation which was mirrored for other socially respected jobs, such as doctors and party members. One crucial purpose of learning, that of acquiring social status, lost its meaning as status no longer guaranteed food and money in a malfunctioning society (Kim, E.–Y., Reference Kim2017). Private business seemed to promise direct profit, while the black-market economy boomed in the aftermath of the famine (Demick, Reference Demick2010). In schools, students are reported to be severely demotivated in terms of learning. (Han, Reference Han1999; Kim, E.–Y., Reference Kim2017).
Third is the English divide within North Korea between the elites and the rest of its people. Although professing to be a classless socialist society, North Korea is highly stratified, both socially and regionally, based on political background and loyalty to the regime (Demick, Reference Demick2010). The capital city, Pyeongyang, is in southwestern North Korea, where the country's material and symbolic resources are concentrated. On the other hand, the majority of North Korean migrants in South Korea come from the North Hamkyeon Province, which is in the northeastern periphery of North Korea bordering China (Ministry of Unification, 2018). Media reports suggest that English education is booming among the elites, who try to teach English to their children. However, resources for English learning are reported to be highly limited in rural areas (Lee et al., Reference Lee, Yang and Kwon2005). As surveys show (Jung & Lim, Reference Jung and Lim2009; Park & Kim, Reference Park and Kim2014), a significant portion of North Korean migrants ‘did not know at all about English.’ They have had less access to English and lower levels of awareness regarding the power of the language. They are now placed in a ‘degreeocracy’ society, where degrees, social status, and English seem to be the basic requirements for a ‘better life.’
III. Experiences with English in South Korea: Four major areas
In this section, we will examine four distinctive areas where English is closely linked to North Koreans in South Korea. They represent different ways in which English affects North Korean defectors, cropping up as problems or barriers for some, or emerging as bridges or opportunities for others, at certain stages within their socialization processes.
First, English emerges as a problem when North Korean migrants try to communicate with South Koreans. North and South Koreans supposedly speak the ‘same’ language. However, 70 years of division with minimal mutual contact and language policies based on opposing political ideologies has created two very different varieties of the Korean language. The North, a totalitarian state professing anti-imperialism and self-reliance, has pursued a purist linguistic policy, deliberately translating or discarding foreign loanwords (Song, Reference Song, Gottlieb and Chen2001). On the other hand, the South, a globalizing state that has actively promoted English, has not exerted concentrated effort on ‘nativizing’ foreign loanwords, especially towards English influence.
This linguistic contrast between the two Koreas is keenly experienced by the migrants, particularly in their early settlement period. Studies report that North Koreans encounter difficulties with English loan words that are heavily used in South Korea (Jung & Lim, Reference Jung and Lim2009). This restricts North Koreans’ daily communication with South Koreans, especially regarding the use of computers saturated with English terminologies (Jung & Lim, Reference Jung and Lim2009). One of the authors heard the story of a North Korean student who saw in university the name of a college circle in English initials; she looked it up in the dictionary, couldn't find it and she cried. English at the ‘lexical’ level permeates South Koreans’ ordinary linguistic repertoire. However, the migrants’ difficulty in everyday communication is eventually overcome – Jung & Lim (Reference Jung and Lim2009) suggest within about a year – as the migrants gradually acquire the more globalized Korean repertoire and its culture ‘through’ everyday communication.
Second, apart from this initial English barrier in everyday communication, English affects North Korean migrants more seriously at a different level – more towards a specific age group. Research into North Korean migrants has indicated that English represents a major challenge for the North Korean youth in an educational setting. This is particularly true of young North Korean adults in universities and the middle-class job market, who experience extreme hardship with English. What we are discussing now is English at the level of academic literacy, which is increasingly linked with social mobility in South Korea, and which works as a powerful and enduring barrier against North Koreans taking part in South Korea's neoliberal competition.
For those who are not directly involved in such competition for social selection, academic English does not hold such a crucial role. Cho and Jeon (Reference Cho and Jeon2004) have observed that for the younger generation in high schools who has not yet entered university, although they also struggle with English, the influence of the language is ‘limited to a single English subject’ (p. 167). For North Korean migrants in general, who must make their living, they cannot afford to invest in education, much less in English (Cho, Reference Cho2018; Jung & Lim, Reference Jung and Lim2009).
However, the impact of English on North Korean students in university settings is immense and unavoidable. Studies without a preconceived focus on English have found that for North Korean young adults, English often represents the most serious obstacle in terms of finishing college (Cho & Jeon, Reference Cho and Jeon2004; Yu et al., Reference Yu, Jo, Kim and Bae2013) and finding middle-class employment (Ro & Oh, Reference Ro and Oh2016). Since the 1990s, South Korean universities have implemented internationalization policies that highly emphasize the English competence of students across all majors (Park & Song, Reference Park and Song2013). Key policies include the development of a university-wide English teaching curricula, the use of English as medium of instruction, and a requirement of proof concerning English proficiency for graduation (e.g., TOEIC). Furthermore, the white-collar job market, along with the country's globalization movement since the 1990s, has adopted English language testing as a key component of screening its job applicants (Park, Reference Park2011).
Ironically, structural factors, such as the government's educational support policies for North Korean defectors, feed into this English problem; special admission policies, which allow easier entry to top universities and full-tuition support by the government and universities, promote unprepared North Korean students to attend university (Choi, Reference Choi2014; Park & Kim, Reference Park and Kim2014). Although highly motivated and hard-working, and often having attained secondary-level English, many North Korean students, with extremely limited exposure to English, find academic English inaccessible (Choi, Reference Choi2014; Ro & Oh, Reference Ro and Oh2016; Park & Kim, Reference Park and Kim2014).
Many of these students complain that they cannot even decode a single sentence in their English textbooks (Choi, Reference Choi2014; Park & Kim, Reference Park and Kim2014). Furthermore, despite their best efforts, they often find no significant improvement in their academic English or course grades, which generates a sense of helplessness. One North Korean student remarked the following regarding English: ‘This is my first time to be this discouraged’ (Park & Kim, Reference Park and Kim2014: 347). Students therefore tend to avoid and postpone English-mediated courses that are mandated for graduation and, in the end, many decide to drop the course, take a leave of absence, or drop-out of university entirely. When Yu et al. (Reference Yu, Jo, Kim and Bae2013) tracked the reasons behind North Koreans dropping out of university, 33% of them were due to English. Many felt that this barrier made ‘graduation impossible’ and ‘employment impossible’ (Ro & Oh, Reference Ro and Oh2016).
The third area of English's effect on North Korean defectors, stemming from their difficulties with English as discussed so far, is the emergence of a significant stream of English teaching programs specifically designed for North Korean defectors. The defectors themselves have voiced the need for customized English teaching which takes into account their particular linguistic background (Cho, Reference Cho2018). Consequently, English often works as a contact zone between North Koreans and other social groups interested in North Korean issues; it works as a bridge for North Koreans to meet diverse groups of people, as well as for the interested individuals or organization to interact with North Koreans in a highly communicative manner.
The interested social groups include South Korean governmental and religious organizations, cultural agencies from English-speaking countries (notably the British Council), NGOs with English-speaking activists or volunteers (e.g., PSCORE on pscore.org, TNKR on teachnorthkoreanrefugees.org), as well as language institutes from the private sector. North Korean defectors also report frequent English-mediated interactions at an individual level, mostly in the form of private tutoring (Cho, Reference Cho2018). A diverse range of programs, which offer access to both English teaching and English speakers, are provided either for free or for minimal expense. For example, a well known discount program jointly run by a scholarship foundation and a top brand private language institute provides a 70% discount on English class enrollment fees to North Korean students (proved by government-issued ID papers).
Of particular note is the dominant Christian aspect of these support programs. Many North Koreans report that they learned English in a religious setting (Cho, Reference Cho2018; Jung & Lim, Reference Jung and Lim2009), which mostly refers to grass-roots programs or alternative schools affiliated with South Korean evangelical Christianity (Kim, Reference Kim2019). English teaching is reported to often be used for missionary purposes throughout the world (highly critiqued in Pennycook & Coutand-Marin, Reference Pennycook and Coutand-Marin2003). Missionary English teaching between South Korean evangelicals and North Korean students takes place widely not only within South Korea, but also in North Korea (Kim, E.–Y., Reference Kim2017). The demand for English, even inside North Korea, allows English-speaking missionaries to interact with North Koreans, and even enter the closed state (under the condition of not evangelizing).
Also included in this list of interested social groups are academic researchers, who have attempted not only to document and understand their English problems, but also help solve the problems through action or experimental research. Park & Kim (Reference Park and Kim2014) have reported how a group of English professors in a private university created basic English courses for North Korean students. Although the students felt much more comfortable with the easier courses, they still recognised the enormous gap between the basic course and the general English course they need to take later. Other studies have reported diverse efforts in developing and testing methods and curriculums customized for North Korean students by utilizing internet communication technology (e.g., Lee, Reference Lee2017), mobilizing their cultural background (e.g., Lee, Reference Lee2014), or promoting multiculturalism (e.g., Kim & Ahn, Reference Kim and Ahn2017).
The last area to discuss, which is highly interesting but not well documented, is the emergence of North Korean speakers of English. There is increasing use of spoken English by North Korean defectors on global stages allowing them to talk about their experiences and express their identity. Although North Korean students often fail to attain academic English, some young adults acquire oral English ability through their access to English speakers. Well known examples are the North Korean TED speakers: Hyeon-Seo Lee with her talk entitled, My Escape from North Korea and Joseph Kim with his talk, The Family I Lost in North Korea. And the Family I Gained, both from 2013. Another North Korean English-speaking celebrity is Yeon-Mi Park, whose speech at the One Young World 2014 Summit in Ireland gained millions of views worldwide on YouTube. Her memoir, In Order to Live: A North Korean Girl's Journey to Freedom, was published in 2015. Their fluency in speaking and using English is hardly attained even by South Koreans; these North Korean English speakers, however, seemed to have achieved such a feat within a few years of arriving in South Korea.
Who are these English-speaking North Koreans? How have they attained such oral ability? What we know is that these are not merely isolated cases; there is a significant number of these North Korean English speakers who, although not globally visible as some of the celebrities, have learned to speak English through their access to English-speaking friends or teachers. Both authors personally know such North Koreans; one story will be presented at the end of this article.
IV. From refugees to global citizens
Hitherto, we have identified four different ways in which English affects North Korean refugees: as a problem, barrier, bridge, and opportunity. In this section, paying attention to these distinctive interfaces between English and North Korean refugees, we will investigate discussions on the underlying assumptions and implications of these phenomena in terms of North Korean refugees and English education in South Korea.
We can first note that the ways in which North Korean migrants’ English is currently addressed reflects both the deficit and assimilative perspectives from which mainstream South Korean perceives North Korean migrants. The social and educational practices of South Korea are established as norms for addressing North Korean migrants’ English learning, implicitly positioning them as deficient and incompetent beings. In a majority of the academic literature and mass media reporting on young North Korean defectors’ difficulties with English, North Korean migrants’ underdeveloped English ability is, perhaps unintentionally, problematized in comparison to their South Korean counterpart's advanced English ability and ample experiences of English from their early childhood (e.g., Park & Kim, Reference Park and Kim2014; Yu et al., Reference Yu, Jo, Kim and Bae2013). Even if they have good intentions, teachers push North Korean students to study hard so that they can compete with South Korean students and be admitted to South Korean universities (Lee & Kang, Reference Lee, Kang, Miller, Cameron, Dalli and Barbour2017).
As a consequence of deficit thinking, mainstream educators interpret the differences of minority students as ‘deficits, dysfunctions, and/or disadvantages’ (Ford, Reference Ford, Banks and Banks2010: 374). This deficit orientation held by educators, researchers, and sometimes by minority students themselves, makes their foci tuned to the students’ shortcomings or weaknesses, rather than their strengths (Nieto, Reference Nieto2000; Valencia, Reference Valencia1997). It is thus not uncommon to find an argument that North Korean refugees need help and support so that they can ‘overcome’ these difficulties and ‘adapt’ to the operating system of South Korean society (Kim, J., Reference Kim2017). Kim and Lee's (Reference Kim and Lee2019) extensive review of research trends regarding North Korean adolescents since 1999, when research on North Korean adolescents began, reports that ‘adaptation’ (27.05%) and ‘education’ (24.63%) are the most studied research topics out of 13 subjects addressed over 20 years of literature on North Korean adolescents.
As deficit thinking often leads to prescriptive and assimilative approaches to education regarding minority students (Valencia, Reference Valencia1997), the goal of education for North Korean refugees is often to help them acquire the skills and knowledge, including English ability, that is expected of the so-called ‘average’ South Korean student. As Lee and Kang (Reference Lee, Kang, Miller, Cameron, Dalli and Barbour2017) point out, North Korean migrant students are ‘expected to compete with their South Korean peers, despite disparities in educational experiences, lack of parental support, and language difficulties’ (p. 478).
However, the typical English education in South Korean, which focuses on decontextualized grammar/reading skills, and test preparation has produced a number of ‘English quitters’ in South Korea. It has also failed to promote North Korean students’ English learning. Scholars who have conducted field research commonly indicate that existing mainstream English curriculum and programs have failed to motivate North Korean adolescents to study English. Subsequently, they have been unable to improve their English abilities (Kim & Ahn, Reference Kim and Ahn2017; Lee, Reference Lee2014).
Most scholarly articles and official reports highlight that English represents either a ‘problem’ or a ‘barrier’ to North Korean refugees, while relatively less attention has been paid to the ways in which English serve as a bridge or offers opportunities for North Korean refugees. Problematizing this, we argue that it is important for us to see what North Korean migrants have, what they want, and what they can do through acquiring English ability, rather than what they do not have or what they cannot do. Otherwise, a deficit paradigm may frame North Korean migrants merely as those who need help and assimilation in order to survive in South Korea.
In this vein, what we have described as ‘bridges’ and ‘opportunities’ in the earlier section suggest alternative approaches to North Korean refugees’ English education not founded on deficit thinking. Although rare, we are seeing reports about English teachers and programs that have helped to improve North Koreans’ speaking ability (David-West & Suh, Reference David-West and Suh2014; Kim, E.–Y., Reference Kim2017). Although we do not want to make overgeneralizations, a pattern we see is that these programs tend to be run by non-South Korean groups or international NGOs (e.g., TNKR, PSCORE), are provided in non-school settings, and tend to focus on speaking, communication, and cultural exchange. In other words, they seem to create a context in which there is no comparison or competition between North Korea and South Korea. Further, without the added pressure of accountability, they can make efforts to accommodate young North Korean defectors’ needs regarding improvements to their English-speaking ability and making foreign friends. While many educators taught English to make them adapt to Korean context, we see how English can be a bridge for North Korean refugees to expand their social arena to a global context.
While academic English or standardized English tests make North Korean migrants feel disempowered in South Korean society, communicative English helps some of them to be visible and empowered. They are differentiated from South Koreans who have underdeveloped oral English, as well as from other North Koreans who also struggle with academic English. Consequently, they have carved out a new linguistic identity for themselves, and possibly a third identity between the North and the South, through their English-speaking ability. Speeches given by North Korean defectors disclosing the realities of North Korea have had a tremendous impact on global society. By making their voices heard using English as a lingua franca, North Korean refugees can be empowered to unsettle the dichotomous framework of North Korea and South Korea, and transcend the boundary of their nationality. Furthermore, many scholars have emphasized the potential that they can contribute to North-South unification and world peace (e.g., Yang, Reference Yang2016). It is thus important to acknowledge the unique role that English can play in repositioning North Korean migrants from refugees into potential global citizens.
We also note that North Korean migrants’ current issues regarding English mirror the established language ideology in South Korean society calling for critical reflection and a transformation regarding South Korean English education. Positioning English in South Korea as an example of (post)colonial language, Curran (Reference Curran2018) depicts how average Koreans have for a long time suffered from the pressure to have ‘English credentials (i.e., signaling one's competence in English)’ (p. 6). The difficulties, pressures, and failures that North Korean migrants experience in their efforts concerning English reflect how English dominates and stratifies South Korean society: English plays a crucial role as a gatekeeper to university, labour markets, and workplaces; South Korean society accepts uncritically the ways in which institutions use English in order to reproduce inequity and control social mobility; and English education focusing on test preparation means English learners in South Korea miss opportunities for fun and meaningful English learning experiences. As North Korean refugees’ English ability is incessantly compared and evaluated based on the norms of their South Korean peers, South Korean English learners are judged and devaluated by the standards of so-called ‘native English speakers.’ As North Korean refugees feel left behind due to their underdeveloped English ability, South Korean residents, especially the younger generations, feel discouraged and deprived when facing the powerful gatekeeping of English language.
A close examination of North Korean migrants’ English issues leads us not only to reflect critically on the current state of English education for them. We believe it also has important implications for changing English education in South Korea. This study highlights the potential of English as a bridge and opportunity for North Korean refugees to open a new world and construct a new self. As has been shown in cases of North Korean migrants’ successful English learning, it is conjectured that South Korean students can also have meaningful and fruitful English learning experiences when empowering English programs tailored to students’ needs and potentials are provided. It is also hoped that this study leads us to imagine a new role of English for many other refugee and migrant learners of English across the world.
V. Concluding Remarks
Assessing the adaptation of North Korean defectors merely by evaluating their (academic) achievement, learning difficulties, or drop-out rates according to South Korean standards is problematic (Yun, Reference Yun2014). Adaptation should not be equated with assimilation. Questioning the taken-for-granted idea that North Korean defectors should learn English in order to survive in South Korean society, in this article we have suggested an alternative perspective on their English learning, highlighting the unique role that North Korean defectors can play by acquiring English. English can empower North Korean defectors when they communicate with people beyond the dichotomy of South Korea and North Korea, as well as making their voices heard in a global context, using English as a lingua franca.
As shown in Mee-Soo's story at the beginning of this article, English may represent a ‘matter of survival’ to many North Korean migrants when it is linked to South Korean standards. If English education for North Korean refugees continues to take this perspective, however, they will never be released from a cycle of endless competition and a recurring sense of failure. Below is an account of one North Korean refugee describing how English set him free from feelings of incompetence, insecurity, and isolation. We conclude this article with the story of Joseph Park, told to Jang, one of the authors, over numerous conversations:
Joseph was only 17 years old when he escaped alone from North Korea to China in 1999. He spent five years in China, according to him, ‘living like a slave for two years and working in darkness for three years.’ Schooling was an unimaginable luxury in his life. When he came to South Korea in 2005, he thought life would be easier, mostly because he thought South Koreans would speak the same language. But it didn't take long until he found that he couldn't understand South Koreans’ language. Working at a restaurant, he couldn't serve customers who asked for ‘tissues’ (an English loan word), because he thought tissue was food to order. The boss said, ‘You don't even know what tissues are?’ He was so embarrassed and ashamed of being a North Korean. From that point, Joseph decided not to tell anyone that he was from North Korea. He hated the feeling that he was looked down on. He also felt miserable because he felt he would never be truly accepted for who he is. Then, he met his first American friend, Aaron. Joseph said, ‘When South Koreans come to me, they always try to teach me South Korean culture and Konglish, a mix of Korean and English words. But Aaron always listened.’ Living with Aaron, Joseph no longer felt deficient or isolated. He began to learn English from ABC in order to ‘communicate’ with Aaron and to learn of the wider world beyond North Korea and South Korea. In only a few years, Joseph became proficient enough in English to contact global organizations by himself and obtained financial support to develop an education program for adolescent North Korean refugees. With financial and educational support from Google and the Tribeca Film Institute in New York, Joseph ran the program successfully in South Korea. In addition, in 2015 he made a global impact by giving an impressive, solo presentation about the life and education of young North Korean refugees in South Korea in fluent English at an international conference hosted by CIES (Comparative and International Education Society). English, which once made him feel ashamed and depressed, therefore became a door that led Joseph to a new world.
Acknowledgements
This work was supported by the 2020 Research Fund of Seoul National University of Education.
EUN-YOUNG JANG is an Assistant Professor in the Graduate School of Multicultural Education at Seoul National University of Education, South Korea. She has received a Ph.D. in Language, Literacy, and Culture from Vanderbilt University, USA. Her academic interests are critical pedagogy, multiculturalism and multilingualism, and critical media literacy. Topics covered in her recent scholarly work include media literacy for North Korean refugee adolescents, multilingualism and translanguaging for CLD students in Korea. E-mail: eyjang@snue.ac.kr
EUN-YONG KIM is a lecturer in the Department of Liberal Studies in Korean Bible University, South Korea. She has received a PhD in Language, Literacies and Education from University of Toronto, Canada. She is mainly interested in critical pedagogy and critical sociolinguistics of English in Korean context. Her research interests also include qualitative research methodology, North Korean Studies, and Christianity in Applied Linguistics. Email: eunyongkim@bible.ac.kr