They are students, not research targets

By Casey Lartigue Jr.

When researchers ask me to connect them with North Korean refugees, I expect them to explain to the refugees how their proposed research will benefit them. Their explanations are usually as eloquent and logical as young children explaining where babies come from.

To avoid overly intrusive questions, I expect researchers to show me their questions to share with the refugees in advance. The researchers do so, with the eagerness of a criminal suspect handing over a smoking gun to police. One of the questionnaires had more than 50 data-mining questions seeking detailed information about refugees pretty much going back to what they felt the moment they were born. Most people born outside of North Korea would probably take a pass on that probing questionnaire, too.

I have mixed feelings about endless research on refugees. On one hand, funders and media want statistics and measurable outcomes. On the other hand, so much of the research is clearly useless, full of probing questions being asked out of curiosity (or mandates to do "new" research from increasingly irrelevant angles).

Sometimes the questioners are asking for data when common sense is obvious. One researcher recently asked me if we do customer satisfaction surveys among refugees. My curt response, before getting back to work: "We have a waiting list of more than 70 refugees." Asked to elaborate, I added: "Previous students are clamoring to return and some admit they don't tell friends about us because they don't want to lose their place in line."

People voting with their feet is the best "evidence," more valuable than what people might cautiously tell a researcher they just met. In the abstract, people say and believe many noble-sounding things they never put into practice―or find to be a disaster when they do. One of the things I hear from refugees is that our own feedback sessions have a clear purpose in helping them seize opportunities, not probing them as researchers and other NGOs do. They can just be students, not research targets.

Still, people want data from third-party sources. After I finished a speech at a recent conference, the question was put to me bluntly by a South Korean executive handling CSR for one of the Korean conglomerates. "Do North Korean refugees really need English to survive in South Korea?"

I used to answer: I don't know if refugees really need English, but they certainly act like it when they are around me. North Korean refugees usually criticized (by South Koreans) for being passive are like hungry lions chasing deer when they find us.

I've heard that one of the big language institutes offers a 90 percent discount for North Korean refugees, but I wonder how often the company president receives direct phone calls and desperate Kakao messages from refugees seeking to study with them. That happens to both me and my co-director, even though refugees must wait months to join us and have numerous other English-language options they can join soon or immediately (language exchanges, language institutes, universities, cultural centers, community classes, online and from friends).

After refugees join us, they are desperate to remain in our project. Should I believe my lying eyes? I have tried to find useful third-party data to satisfy questioners. Koo Ja-Eok's research team in 2012 and the Ministry of Unification in 2013 found North Korean refugee college students have high dropout rates and that they are also less likely than South Korean natives to return to college.

What is the major reason that refugees drop out? English. Researcher Yoo Si-Eun in 2013 found that 32.7 percent of North Korean refugees drop out "to study English before returning to college."Another 28.6 percent drop out "to earn a living" and 12.2 percent dropout because they are "having difficulties with keeping up with classes."

Additionally, another 33 percent who considered taking a leave of absence cited English as the major factor. Those who graduate face a new reality: They are eliminated from many job opportunities because of low English test scores.

I celebrate North Korean refugees escaping to freedom, but donors and advocates seem to forget the years after freedom day when refugees must resettle and adjust. According to statistics I've seen in the news, about 35 percent of NK refugee adults in South Korea are unemployed, 80 percent reportedly work in menial and low-skilled jobs, their incomes reportedly are 50 percent below those of South Koreans, and suicide rates are even higher than those of South Koreans.

Some people think I'm a bit hard on researchers, and they may be right. Knowing that research doesn't change how we operate, we talk directly to refugees in our project to get their feedback and we make our own observations to apply what we learn. But perhaps being aware of what researchers are researching will make me sound more logical and eloquent than young children explaining where babies come from.

Casey Lartigue Jr. is the co-founder of the Teach North Korean Refugees Global Education Center (TNKR) in Seoul. He can be reached at CJL@post.harvard.edu.