11 years after Sewol, families in yellow lend their strength to fights for justice

Parents of the high schoolers who died when the Sewol ferry sank on April 16, 2014, are often seen at the sites of struggle, protest and remembrance — “We want to let them know they aren’t fighting alone,” one said.

Gently touching a ring on her left thumb engraved with “Cho Eun-jeong,” the name of her daughter, Park Jeong-hwa stood at the podium and began to speak.

“Today we are going to learn about what a social disaster is and how we can overcome them together. I am the mother of Cho Eun-jeong. Eleven years ago, my beloved daughter left on a school trip and never returned. I see the cherry blossoms are in full bloom today. Now that it’s been ten years, I’m starting to see the flowers a little bit,” the 57-year-old said to the room. Park’s daughter Eun-jeong had been a second year student in Class 9 at Danwon High School.

Park stood before a room full of school teachers as a certified instructor in disaster safety. It was April 9, one week before the 11th anniversary of the sinking of the Sewol ferry.

Along with five other bereaved parents, Park enrolled in a disaster safety expert training program in 2019 and completed the beginner, intermediate, advanced and practicum courses. The talks she provides are free. Having spent more time and energy than anyone studying and reflecting on the meaning of safety, life and solidarity over the past 11 years, Park now wishes to share what she’s learned with even more people. Throughout her lecture, she named the multitude of socially vulnerable communities whose safety and lives are under threat in homes, workplaces and everyday spaces.

April 16 marks the 11th anniversary of the tragic sinking of the Sewol in 2014, which took the lives of over 300 people, most of whom were high schoolers on a class trip. But the lead-up to the eleventh spring has not been easy.

Since last April alone, Korea has seen the lives of 23 immigrant laborers lost in the Aricell factory explosion in Hwaseong, Gyeonggi Province, last June. A further 179 were killed in the Jeju Air plane crash at the end of the year, and many Koreans spent their winter camped out in the streets to protest the Dec. 3 insurrection.

In all of these locations, it seemed only natural to see the “Sewol families,” as they are known, standing to one side in yellow jumpers. Formerly on the receiving end of consolation and solidarity, the Sewol families have now become the most important source of strength at the scenes of horrific tragedies and outdoor demonstrations.

“People standing in solidarity” — on the 11th anniversary of the ferry’s sinking, this is what the Sewol families now represent. When asked why they are out there standing alongside the vulnerable in public places, bereaved family members replied, “Because there are so many people I am grateful for,” “I wanted them to know they’re not fighting alone,” or simply “Because I understand their sadness.”

Yellow flags all around

The yellow flags held by the Sewol family members never appear out of place at sites of protest, struggle or solidarity. That’s a reflection of the impact that the Sewol fight has had over the past 11 years, with its emphasis on universal values of life and safety.

Sewol family members have taken positions at the front of demonstrations not just in response to various disasters but also on behalf of workers and people living in poverty.

When farmers were protesting the death of Baek Nam-gi — a fellow farmer who succumbed to injuries from being struck by a police water cannon jet in 2015 — Sewol family members sat and wept in the very front row. They were there, standing behind subcontracting worker Kim Yong-gun, who died in 2018 on the job at the Taean Power Station in South Chungcheong Province; behind Lee Seon-ho, a young worker who lost his life in 2021 while working part-time at the port of Pyeongtaek; and behind Yang Hoe-dong, a construction worker who set himself on fire in 2023 to protest the Yoon Suk-yeol administration’s efforts to bash construction unions.

“Disasters have occurred in places where the state has not fulfilled its responsibilities, and we wanted to show solidarity as victims of that,” said Kim Jong-gi, who lost his daughter Su-jin when the Sewol sank. Kim serves as chairperson of the steering committee for the group 4/16 Sewol Families for Truth and a Safer Society.

During Park’s talk that day, she shared reports about the deaths of various people, including disaster victims, residents of impoverished neighborhoods, and irregular workers. These were issues that she felt she could not ignore, given the similarities to the circumstances of the Sewol sinking as something that happened “in a society that cared only about profit, while the state looked the other way.”

“We’ve gone all around calling for a safer society, and we haven’t been able to establish one,” she said. “Even so, I continue speaking out with others in the hopes that we can change things together.”

Not alone in the public square

Another thing drawing the family members to the sites of struggle is the desire to share some of the burden of suffering that arises when victims of disaster and socially disadvantaged people take action to call for change.

“We want to let them know they aren’t fighting alone,” said Kim Sun-gil, the secretary-general of 4/16 Sewol Families for Truth and a Safer Society, “and that’s why we go to join them.” Kim lost his daughter Jin Yun-hee in the sinking of the Sewol.

When families affected by the Sewol disaster found themselves victimized all over again by disregard from state institutions and hate speech, the solidarity of those who rallied around them and vowed never to forget helped them get through.

The family members of Sewol victims know how precious it is to have people standing beside them at painful moments. During her talk, Park shared a memory of the joint memorial that had been set up 11 years earlier at Hwarang Amusement Park in Ansan.

“A lot of people helped out when we were setting up the joint memorial for our children,” she recalled.

“At first, I was so out of sorts from grief that I thought they were government employees, but I found out later they were just ordinary people. The more I think about it, the more grateful I feel, but since I can’t thank each of them individually, I’m showing them solidarity instead,” she added.

During the past four months of calls for Yoon Suk-yeol’s impeachment, the families have found solace in the streets alongside protesters. Young people there have identified themselves as being part of the “Sewol-Itaewon generation” — a reference to the deadly October 2022 crowd crush in Seoul’s Itaewon neighborhood — and visited the yellow tents to show gestures of kindness.

After seeing young people receiving rice balls made by the Sewol family members and other citizens, Kim Sun-gil remembered thinking, “They haven’t forgotten. They remember.”

Park’s talk, which lasted for around two hours, was met with cheers and applause from the teachers. After catching her breath, Park ran her fingers over her ring as she pledged to speak out and stand together with other people in the future.

“These are things I intend to do in the name of our daughter Eun-jeong,” she said. “I’ll do my best to honor her life.”

By Ko Na-rin, staff reporter