By Casey Lartigue Jr.
Some of the most heartwarming criticism I have received has come from the North Korean refugees I have worked with for almost a decade.
About five years ago, a North Korean refugee criticized Freedom Speakers International co-founder Lee Eun-koo and me for not being ruthless enough. She had learned that we put pressure on ourselves to raise money to keep our English-language programming tuition-free for North Korean refugees. She insisted: "You must charge us! Don't be so nice!" She put her money where her mouth was by making a financial donation to our organization.
We have never had a paid staffer to handle our public presence, but that hasn't stopped North Korean refugees from blaming us for not marketing ourselves better. Several complained to us that no one informed them about us earlier. "Every North Korean in the world needs to know about what you are doing. Even North Koreans in North Korea would escape to South Korea if they knew about you." Looking back, I should have asked her if she had told her relatives and friends.
A few years ago, we received a call from the leader of a huge North Korean refugee support organization. Talking like he was being held at gunpoint, he said he had been receiving complaints from North Korean refugees after they learned his organization wasn't providing us with any support. He visited our humble office to learn more about us. The first few minutes of the meeting were a bit awkward, knowing we had been brought together because of complaints by North Korean refugees. A year later we received our first-ever grant from the organization.
A North Korean refugee who was being slightly more critical said that we weren't ambitious enough to become a large organization. She had recently made a financial donation to us when she shared her criticism with others. She thought we should expand our operations even more, and she is right. We are happy with our work, so we are more right than she is. Getting bigger would mean less contact with the people that our organization has been engaged with since 2013. That would mean we would not have gotten close enough for her to criticize us.
Because her criticism was a bit stronger, I will address it in more detail. One problem with most criticism is that it is often like the parable of the blind men and an elephant. Critics often misunderstand based on their subjective experience and observations.
A North Korean refugee who had followed us in the media visited our office to apply. Doubtful that she could meet us, she was surprised that we were the ones to greet her and give her the orientation. She had assumed we would be out meeting businesspeople and government officials instead of talking with North Korean refugees. She said she had studied with a larger organization, but she doesn't know if she met the top executives because she didn't know who they were.
There's nothing wrong with becoming a large organization, but life is about trade-offs. How much do leaders of large organizations engage with their customers and clients? How often do students contact the CEOs of larger organizations late at night to ask for help or just to talk about life? It happens to us, and we love it.
People are told to aim higher, to dream big, but also to do the things that make them happy. The things that make people happy might not be the big goals they are told to dream about. What if on the way to the mountaintop you find an area you enjoy?
About two decades ago, I read about Warren Brown, an American lawyer who quit his federal government job in Washington, D.C., so that he could bake pies. He enjoyed cooking pastries more than being a lawyer. He opened "Cake Love." I was then an active participant in the rat race so it was stunning to me. I have since come across many stories of people who walked away from lucrative or stable careers to do what makes them happy. Critics pointing out that those people aren't ambitious may have a point, but they can't know what is inside the hearts of others.
According to a study by McKinsey, just 0.07 percent of small and medium-sized enterprises (SMEs) in South Korea evolve into large companies. Many people are content to live their lives as they wish, without feeling the need to become the CEO of a conglomerate.
In my case, I am after personal fulfillment. That means having an organization in which I can engage with the people who come to us, even if they offer lovely criticism sometimes.
Casey Lartigue Jr. is chairman and co-founder with Lee Eun-koo of Freedom Speakers International and co-author with Han Song-mi of "Greenlight to Freedom." He can be reached at CJL@alumni.harvard.edu
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About five years ago, a North Korean refugee criticized Freedom Speakers International co-founder Lee Eun-koo and me for not being ruthless enough. She had learned that we put pressure on ourselves to raise money to keep our English-language programming tuition-free for North Korean refugees. She insisted: "You must charge us! Don't be so nice!" She put her money where her mouth was by making a financial donation to our organization.
We have never had a paid staffer to handle our public presence, but that hasn't stopped North Korean refugees from blaming us for not marketing ourselves better. Several complained to us that no one informed them about us earlier. "Every North Korean in the world needs to know about what you are doing. Even North Koreans in North Korea would escape to South Korea if they knew about you." Looking back, I should have asked her if she had told her relatives and friends.
A few years ago, we received a call from the leader of a huge North Korean refugee support organization. Talking like he was being held at gunpoint, he said he had been receiving complaints from North Korean refugees after they learned his organization wasn't providing us with any support. He visited our humble office to learn more about us. The first few minutes of the meeting were a bit awkward, knowing we had been brought together because of complaints by North Korean refugees. A year later we received our first-ever grant from the organization.
A North Korean refugee who was being slightly more critical said that we weren't ambitious enough to become a large organization. She had recently made a financial donation to us when she shared her criticism with others. She thought we should expand our operations even more, and she is right. We are happy with our work, so we are more right than she is. Getting bigger would mean less contact with the people that our organization has been engaged with since 2013. That would mean we would not have gotten close enough for her to criticize us.
Because her criticism was a bit stronger, I will address it in more detail. One problem with most criticism is that it is often like the parable of the blind men and an elephant. Critics often misunderstand based on their subjective experience and observations.
A North Korean refugee who had followed us in the media visited our office to apply. Doubtful that she could meet us, she was surprised that we were the ones to greet her and give her the orientation. She had assumed we would be out meeting businesspeople and government officials instead of talking with North Korean refugees. She said she had studied with a larger organization, but she doesn't know if she met the top executives because she didn't know who they were.
There's nothing wrong with becoming a large organization, but life is about trade-offs. How much do leaders of large organizations engage with their customers and clients? How often do students contact the CEOs of larger organizations late at night to ask for help or just to talk about life? It happens to us, and we love it.
People are told to aim higher, to dream big, but also to do the things that make them happy. The things that make people happy might not be the big goals they are told to dream about. What if on the way to the mountaintop you find an area you enjoy?
About two decades ago, I read about Warren Brown, an American lawyer who quit his federal government job in Washington, D.C., so that he could bake pies. He enjoyed cooking pastries more than being a lawyer. He opened "Cake Love." I was then an active participant in the rat race so it was stunning to me. I have since come across many stories of people who walked away from lucrative or stable careers to do what makes them happy. Critics pointing out that those people aren't ambitious may have a point, but they can't know what is inside the hearts of others.
According to a study by McKinsey, just 0.07 percent of small and medium-sized enterprises (SMEs) in South Korea evolve into large companies. Many people are content to live their lives as they wish, without feeling the need to become the CEO of a conglomerate.
In my case, I am after personal fulfillment. That means having an organization in which I can engage with the people who come to us, even if they offer lovely criticism sometimes.
Casey Lartigue Jr. is chairman and co-founder with Lee Eun-koo of Freedom Speakers International and co-author with Han Song-mi of "Greenlight to Freedom." He can be reached at CJL@alumni.harvard.edu
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