
Casey Lartigue, left, and Han Song-mi, right, pose with an attendee after Song-mi gave a speech at the FSI office May 4. Courtesy of Freedom Speakers International
What happens when an audience is in love with a speaker? Let me tell you about what happened May 4, when North Korean refugee author Han Song-mi spoke to 15 American women visiting South Korea. The audience was moved by Song-mi and seemed to emotionally connect with her.
I started the event by introducing the activities of Freedom Speakers International (FSI) and Han.
From the moment she began, it was clear this wasn’t going to be a typical event. Han started by saying she was nervous, and the women encouraged her. When she spoke, they tried to finish her sentences. When she searched for a vocabulary word, they were guessing along with her. When she told the poignant and emotional parts of her story, they held their breath and audibly gasped. When she told humorous stories, they laughed loudly. They were with her on a roller coaster of emotions. During a Q&A, they had numerous questions about her escape, reunion with her mother, and adjustment to life in South Korea.
They rushed to hug her after the event. And then they hugged her again. Two of the women told her directly, “I love you.” Every single one of them bought “Greenlight to Freedom,” Han’s memoir I co-authored. And when it was time for a group photo, they didn't just stand beside her, they were scrambling for who could stand next to her and they reached out for one more embrace.
Even after the formal remarks ended, the engagement continued. While Han and I signed copies of her memoir, I asked them if they had any questions. They did! The energy in the room didn’t fade. I asked if they wanted to take photos with Han while holding her book. Of course!

North Korean refugee Han Song-mi, center, posted this photo on her Instagram account shortly after speaking to 15 travelers from the U.S. Second from the right is her co-author and FSI co-founder Casey Lartigue Jr. Courtesy of Freedom Speakers International
During the Q&A, after the women asked her how she had first connected with FSI, Han called me her “hero” and “life mentor.” The women had already been deeply moved by her story, but hearing her speak so warmly about me caused them to turn their attention to me with applause and kind words. They asked what had inspired me to support North Korean refugees and about my background. I became the hero of the room as they thanked me for bringing Han's story to the world.
Watching another audience embrace Han both emotionally and physically reminds me that storytelling can be a bridge across identity, trauma, and culture.
That night, I received a call from Han. She had been thinking deeply about the day and about the journey that led her there. What follows are Han's reflections.
Han Song-mi:
After signing books, answering their heartfelt questions, and receiving so many hugs, I found myself reflecting as I drove home, “Okay, Song-mi, you did a great job. You made another piece of the unification puzzle.” I’ve realized over time that I don’t need to make a dramatic impact, I don’t have to try to save the entire world. Every time I speak, I contribute a small piece toward something larger.
I thought back to when I was a young girl in North Korea struggling to survive, eating grass, living in a barn, later was homeless before my mom escaped North Korea. If I could talk to the younger version of myself, I would tell her: “Don’t give up hope. Even when everything seems lost, don’t let go of hope.” At that time, my hope was being with my mom again.
When I escaped North Korea to follow my mom to South Korea, I carried a small knife. I told myself that if I were captured, I would rather end my life than be sent back. I didn’t want my relatives to get into trouble because of me, so I would kill myself North Korean guards could arrest and question me. I also brought photos of my mother, hoping to keep a part of her with me as I escaped. But they were confiscated by a guard on a train who brutally beat me when he guessed I was trying to escape North Korea. Losing those photos when I didn’t know if I would ever see my mom again was one of the most painful moments of the journey.
I also thought back to 2019 in South Korea when I was on the verge of committing suicide. I was trying to find hope that would give me a reason to continue living. That hope turned out to be English. Because of English, I met Mr. Casey. And then, Mr. Casey became my hope. He changed the direction of my life in a good way. I started to believe that my life might matter. That was another Carpe Diem moment — when I found Mr. Casey.
If I could talk to myself in 2019, knowing what I know now, I would say: “It is okay to suffer. Through suffering, you will overcome this situation and have a great opportunity to be alive.” Back then, it was hard to believe anything good could come from suffering. But now I understand that pain can create the space for change, and even in the worst moments, something meaningful can begin.
I also thought back to 2022. When Mr. Casey first mentioned the year before that I could write a book, I didn’t believe it. My story was too sad, and I wasn’t from the elite of North Korea. Why would anyone want to read my story? At that time, I was too shy, nervous, and afraid of standing before many people. I had been in South Korea for a decade, but I had never given an interview or a speech as I adjusted to life here. “I only graduated from elementary school in North Korea, and I went several years without even opening a book. How can I write a book?” I kept finding reasons I couldn’t do it. But Mr. Casey encouraged me and believed in me before I believed in myself.
The questions I received from the 15 women visiting South Korea moved me. They made me think more deeply about my experiences. When people engage with my story in that way, I feel encouraged. It reminds me that what I’ve gone through matters — not just to me, but to others who are listening with open hearts and open minds.
I never imagined that I would one day speak openly about these memories — or that I would be embraced for them. But now, I am meeting people who care, who listen with compassion and curiosity, and who give me strength to continue. May 4 was another unforgettable moment — another puzzle piece added in my journey toward healing and toward unification.
Han Song-mi is a North Korean Refugee Author Fellow with Freedom Speakers International and the co-author of her memoir, “Greenlight to Freedom: A North Korean Daughter’s Search for Her Mother and Herself,” co-written with FSI co-founder Casey Lartigue Jr.