By Casey Lartigue
One of the most profound things that I heard from Howard Fuller, an American activist and one of my mentors: If you plan a meeting for 100 people, but only three people show up, then work with those three people rather than focusing on the 97 people who didn't show up. Then ask those three people who showed up to bring a friend next time.
It is a point I recall often, especially at those painful times when only three people show up at an event I have organized. It was also a point I had in mind as I participated in a Korea Times Roundtable discussion on "Enforced Disappearances" that was inspired by one of my recent Korea Times columns.
The question put to me by The Korea Times: "What do you think about Koreans being indifferent to enforced disappearances and other causes that foreigners have joined?"
I have mixed feelings about it, after more than 15 years of engaging in volunteering and activism. On the one hand, I strongly defend the right of people to be apathetic. There isn't anything wrong with anyone for ignoring the millions of causes, organizations and problems in the world. I avoid drafting people who don't want to be part of my cause ― and warn others to back off if they try to pressure or guilt-trip me into joining theirs.
South Koreans take themselves on guilt trips, condemning themselves and others for not getting more involved. When South Koreans learn about my volunteer activities helping North Korean refugees, many will tell me that they are "embarrassed" that a foreigner, rather than a South Korean, is doing so much to help.
I usually respond: time hasn't stopped. You can get started from today, and people will forget that you didn't help in the past. Few Koreans have taken me up on my offer for them to get involved. In some cases, when I bump into them another day, they will make the same point, still lamenting but not helping.
I secretly hope such people won't join. People who join out of guilt rarely help for long and they don't make a positive impact. They get in the way, cause problems, plus they will shamelessly eat your organization's last cookies and drink the last beverage.
On the other hand, to get a movement going, you need people (and money). I see Koreans rushing to sign petitions on behalf of celebrities or against Japan, I sometimes wish that just a small percentage would also take a look at what I am doing. Just having a small percentage of Koreans supporting my cause (with actions, not just words) could make a huge difference overnight. Even if their actions wouldn't save the world, at least activists and people suffering in silence would know they are not alone. Still, we must respect the choices of those who don't join our thin ranks.
Those are the things I have said for several years now. But I felt an alarm go off when I got to know Hwang In-Cheol, the South Korean activist whose father was kidnapped to North Korea when a South Korean airplane was hijacked in 1969 by a North Korean agent. Knowing that his father is now approaching the age of 80, we didn't have the luxury of strategic patience.
I asked 3,500 Facebook friends and another 4,800 people in groups I manage online to sign a petition my volunteer team helped set up. The results were dismal.
I apologized to Hwang, I figured that many more would sign the petition, even though I know most people are by-standers and observers. After 15 years of working alone, Hwang said he now feels he has a team of 293 people ― that's the number of people who had signed his petition up to that moment (he seems to monitor the number of online signatures).
As Howard Fuller might remind me: If you invite more than 8,000 people to sign a petition, but only 293 do so, then try to work with those 293 people, and encourage them to invite others. Don't complain about the 8,000 people who did not. Instead, let's take action with the ones who have joined. Our action, rather than condemnation, could end up motivating others to get involved.
Casey Lartigue Jr. is the co-founder of Teach North Korean Refugees (TNKR) in Seoul. He can be reached at CJL@post.harvard.edu.
One of the most profound things that I heard from Howard Fuller, an American activist and one of my mentors: If you plan a meeting for 100 people, but only three people show up, then work with those three people rather than focusing on the 97 people who didn't show up. Then ask those three people who showed up to bring a friend next time.
It is a point I recall often, especially at those painful times when only three people show up at an event I have organized. It was also a point I had in mind as I participated in a Korea Times Roundtable discussion on "Enforced Disappearances" that was inspired by one of my recent Korea Times columns.
The question put to me by The Korea Times: "What do you think about Koreans being indifferent to enforced disappearances and other causes that foreigners have joined?"
I have mixed feelings about it, after more than 15 years of engaging in volunteering and activism. On the one hand, I strongly defend the right of people to be apathetic. There isn't anything wrong with anyone for ignoring the millions of causes, organizations and problems in the world. I avoid drafting people who don't want to be part of my cause ― and warn others to back off if they try to pressure or guilt-trip me into joining theirs.
South Koreans take themselves on guilt trips, condemning themselves and others for not getting more involved. When South Koreans learn about my volunteer activities helping North Korean refugees, many will tell me that they are "embarrassed" that a foreigner, rather than a South Korean, is doing so much to help.
I usually respond: time hasn't stopped. You can get started from today, and people will forget that you didn't help in the past. Few Koreans have taken me up on my offer for them to get involved. In some cases, when I bump into them another day, they will make the same point, still lamenting but not helping.
I secretly hope such people won't join. People who join out of guilt rarely help for long and they don't make a positive impact. They get in the way, cause problems, plus they will shamelessly eat your organization's last cookies and drink the last beverage.
On the other hand, to get a movement going, you need people (and money). I see Koreans rushing to sign petitions on behalf of celebrities or against Japan, I sometimes wish that just a small percentage would also take a look at what I am doing. Just having a small percentage of Koreans supporting my cause (with actions, not just words) could make a huge difference overnight. Even if their actions wouldn't save the world, at least activists and people suffering in silence would know they are not alone. Still, we must respect the choices of those who don't join our thin ranks.
Those are the things I have said for several years now. But I felt an alarm go off when I got to know Hwang In-Cheol, the South Korean activist whose father was kidnapped to North Korea when a South Korean airplane was hijacked in 1969 by a North Korean agent. Knowing that his father is now approaching the age of 80, we didn't have the luxury of strategic patience.
I asked 3,500 Facebook friends and another 4,800 people in groups I manage online to sign a petition my volunteer team helped set up. The results were dismal.
I apologized to Hwang, I figured that many more would sign the petition, even though I know most people are by-standers and observers. After 15 years of working alone, Hwang said he now feels he has a team of 293 people ― that's the number of people who had signed his petition up to that moment (he seems to monitor the number of online signatures).
As Howard Fuller might remind me: If you invite more than 8,000 people to sign a petition, but only 293 do so, then try to work with those 293 people, and encourage them to invite others. Don't complain about the 8,000 people who did not. Instead, let's take action with the ones who have joined. Our action, rather than condemnation, could end up motivating others to get involved.
Casey Lartigue Jr. is the co-founder of Teach North Korean Refugees (TNKR) in Seoul. He can be reached at CJL@post.harvard.edu.