Society: Mom Takes Fight Against Ball Ban At Kids Playground
To The UN, Exposing Korea's Child Neglect
In a country where children are treated
more like property than people, it's no wonder South Korea's fertility rate is
plummeting. Parents, eager to climb the social ladder, often exploit their kids
as mere tools to achieve their ambitions, neglecting their well-being and
suppressing their rights. This dismal reality has even led to the rise of
childhood depression in a nation where happiness seems out of reach for its
youngest citizens.
The mistreatment of children in South Korea is a disgraceful relic from an era when kids were considered mere property, to be controlled or discarded at an adult’s whim. This toxic mindset lingers, and the same elderly voters who cling to these outdated beliefs have helped elect ultra-right-wing Nazi Gestapo prosecutor as their leader, jeopardizing Korea's future.
Take the case of 7-year-old Kim Yeo-rim from Uijeongbu-si, Gyeonggi-do. Since spring, she hasn’t been able to play her beloved "tangtangball" because adults at her apartment playground would scold her. “Keep kicking that ball and you’ll be sent to school,” they’d threaten, some even standing watch to enforce their petty ban.
On May 27, the playground slapped up a “No Ball Playing” sign, justified by a security guard as a response to resident complaints. With the school playground also closed, Yeo-rim and her friends were exiled to the apartment parking lot—a far cry from a safe play area.
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| sign on the playground of an apartment complex in Uijeongbu-si, Gyeonggi-do, on May 27, prohibiting ball play. The sign, which was changed to "Refrain from playing ball" two days later following a protest by resident Koo Jin-young, 37, has since been removed. Courtesy of Mr. Koo Jin-young |
This “No Ball Playing” sign was just
another slap in the face for Yeo-rim, who already faced countless indignities
growing up in a society that marginalizes its children. Two years ago, she was
barred from a theme village in Dongducheon because it was “Japanese-style and
could be damaged by children.” Ironically, pets were welcome every Wednesday.
Yeo-rim’s mother, Koo Jin-young, finally had enough. She filed a complaint with the Human Rights Commission, arguing that the playground’s sign violated the UN Convention on the Rights of the Child, and also sought civil mediation to have the sign removed.
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| An apology letter from the management office posted on the first floor of each building in an apartment complex in Uijeongbu-si, Gyeonggi-do, on Jan. 1. Courtesy of Mr. Koo Jin-young |
After a month, the Human Rights Commission dismissed the complaint but acknowledged that the ball ban could infringe on children's right to play and pursue happiness under the Constitution. The Uijeongbu District Court sided with her, ordering the management to post an apology. The “No Ball Playing” sign was taken down, replaced by a feeble apology.
Koo’s battle wasn’t just about a playground sign; she aimed to shift societal attitudes towards children. “In New York, I took my child to an opera, and she received a special discount and prime seating. The audience around us praised her presence,” she said, contrasting it with the hostile stares she faced back home.
Koo, who works to reclaim Korean cultural assets stolen by foreign countries, was stunned by the apathy towards children's rights. “Our society views children as nuisances. It’s disheartening,” she remarked.
Undeterred, Koo escalated her fight on March 27 by filing a complaint with the UN Human Rights office in Geneva, seeking a human rights investigator. “If you blow the whistle long enough, people will notice. I’m going to do everything I can,” she declared.