Cover of “Diary and Related Materials of Labor Martyr Kwon Mi-kyung.” Source: The Korea Democracy Foundation

On May 1, 1991, Workers’ Day, a young woman named Kwon Mi-kyung wrote in her diary: “It’s our proud Workers’ Day. It’s already been nearly ten years since I first set foot in society.” Born on June 24, 1969, in Jangsu, North Jeolla Province, Kwon moved to Busan with her family in 1971. After graduating from Ami Elementary School in February 1982, she did not go to middle school. Instead, at the age of 13, she entered a bonded factory, beginning her life as a worker.

Factory Girl aged 13

Determined to learn, Kwon attended the night school program at Dongju Girls' Middle School while working during the day. She graduated in 1985 but was unable to continue to high school. Instead, she continued working in factories. Between 1985 and 1990, she worked at Daeil Industries, Cheongsan, and Sewon as a sewing machine operator. In June 1990, she joined Daebong, a company producing and exporting German Adidas shoes under OEM contracts.

The following year was especially grueling. In her November 14, 1991 diary entry, Kwon wrote, “After nearly ten years of labor, I submitted a leave request for the first time. I realize now how fiercely I’ve been pushing myself all these years.”

Her pain was not without reason. The second half of 1991 saw increasingly exploitative working conditions. In her October 11 diary, she wrote, “My body can no longer support my mind. I used to not even feel tired, but now every part of me aches. Who could remain healthy working like this? You’d have to be a machine, not a person.” She added, “Labor intensity keeps increasing. The managers are using the threat of outsourcing the shoe industry overseas to intimidate my coworkers, who don’t know any better.” Faced with a crisis in the shoe industry, business owners who had long profited from low wages and long hours chose not innovation, but further exploitation. They blamed the workers, as if the crisis stemmed from not working hard enough. Under the banners of “loyalty to the company” and “love for the company,” they demanded more labor and justified the abuse.

Though she was a skilled worker with nearly a decade of experience, her pay barely surpassed the minimum wage. In January 1991, she earned 280,000 won a month, but her base salary, excluding overtime, was just 180,000 won. The legally mandated minimum wage at the time was 192,790 won.

Exploitation backed by politics and business

On November 22, 1991, Korea’s five major business organizations, including the Federation of Korean Industries (FKI), launched the “Five More Campaign,” calling for, “10 percent more savings, 10 percent more productivity, 10 percent more exports, 10 percent more voluntary work, and 10 percent more cost-cutting.” Government officials attended the launch event, a clear sign of collusion between the state and capital in endorsing overwork and exploitation.

Factory owners in Busan, including those at Daebong, imposed “bonus forfeiture,” “extended Saturday shifts,” and “30 extra minutes of work” without pay. In November, Daebong increased production quotas by nearly 50 percent to meet a new Adidas order. Managers began timing workers with stopwatches.

Kwon was repeatedly subjected to “disciplinary education” for not meeting these targets. She missed company shuttle buses after being held back for scolding. On some nights, she had only tangerines and bread for dinner while working overtime, and was reprimanded for even that.

By December, the pressure intensified. On December 6, a 19-year-old colleague was verbally abused for quality issues. Seeing this, Kwon reportedly said, near tears, “Isn’t this place hell?”

At around 4:08 p.m. that day, Kwon climbed to the rooftop of the factory. By 4:10, she was found in the open lot outside the basement cafeteria of the company’s headquarters in Sinpyeong-dong, Busan. She was transferred to Kosin Medical Center at 4:24, but was already deceased. On her forearm, a message written in black pen was discovered.

Her final words: ‘I just wanted to live like a human being’

“My beloved brothers and sisters. Do not bury me in this cold, oppressive ground, bury me deep within your hearts. Only then can we truly become one. I just wanted to live like a human being. Do not oppress us any longer. My name is not Gong-soon. It is Mi-kyung.” Factory managers had often referred to her as “Kwon Gong-soon,” a generic nickname for female workers. Male workers were similarly called “Park Gong-dol,” both terms reducing individuals to anonymous labor units.

Kwon was always learning. In the spring of 1991, she joined the “Gwangjang Book Club,” a reading group for workers in the Saha industrial district. Through its labor division, she began to understand the harsh realities of Korean society, including labor exploitation. Her diary entries reflect a growing awareness of social, labor, and women’s issues, as well as a deepening sense of resolve.

In a May 6, 1991 entry, she wrote, “The smiles they once held seem to grow darker by the day. These girls, who should be running free like deer in nature, now have their dreams withering in this confined, restricted workplace. It’s heartbreaking, truly pitiful. What can I do for them?” On the day of her death, the colleague who had been scolded was a student at night school. Kwon felt both compassion and solidarity for the younger female workers around her.

In her diary entry from December 5, just one day before her death, Kwon wrote, “Only when I stand together with my coworkers can we reclaim and defend our rightful dignity and rights.” Two months earlier, on October 11, she had written with fierce determination. “For the right of workers to live with dignity, I want to fight alongside them. Even if it means bleeding and dying in the struggle. Go ahead, trample us! No matter how hard you press us down and oppress us, we will rise again, even stronger.”

Feminist Kwon Mi-kyung

Kwon was a feminist who came to understand women’s issues through her experiences in the capitalist labor environment. In her diary entry dated July 5, titled “Reflecting on Women’s Paths,” she wrote that she boldly rejected the idea of being “a woman who wants to build a happy family with a man who can practice true and beautiful love.” She continued, “In this capitalist society, it is painfully clear how our humble dreams as women are shattered. How can I settle as a weak woman now? I will not marry until this capitalist system is completely dismantled. I am not a weak woman but a wise and strong one. I will continue to walk resolutely toward the day when I can stand equally and on the same level as men, as an equal human being. Until the day of labor liberation and women’s liberation.”

Kwon was the eldest of four siblings, one brother and three sisters. When she started working at thirteen, her single mother was employed in a toy factory, and her brother also worked from a young age. Her father appeared to have passed away earlier. In a diary entry from November 14, 1991, she wrote, “My father, who worked silently with sweat and lived more honestly and simply than anyone else, was coldly rejected by society. My gentle and fragile father collapsed that way. My poor father, my poor mother.” Kwon connected her family’s hardships to the sufferings of the poor, who live marginalized and despised in society.

Tragedy continued. Her brother could not overcome the grief from her death and was found dead on March 11, 1993, on the slopes of Cheonmasan Mountain in Busan. The Busan Ilbo reported on March 12, 1993, that he had been deeply despondent, saying, “What use is my life when my sister died so miserably?”

Grand alliance of profit and exploitation remains unbroken

The world either did not know about the conditions in the factory before Kwon’s death or chose to ignore the problem. The Daebong company blamed her death on “external agitators.” One week before she died, Daebong’s CEO awarded Kwon the Bronze Tower Order of Industrial Service Merit for export achievements. Maeil Business Newspaper published a November 30 article titled “Daebong Exceeds $20 Million in Exports,” highlighting the company’s “rare role among shoe manufacturers in labor-management harmony, market diversification, new material development, automation of machinery and factories, and quality upgrading.” In January 1992, the month after Kwon’s death, MBC reported on the Busan shoe industry’s “work more campaign,” which included extended work hours and the temporary abolition of Saturday holidays, under the title “A Culture of Working.”

At that time, the government, media, and corporations formed a grand alliance of profit and exploitation, a coalition that has never been broken. When it comes to issues of exploitation, layoffs, and death, the world has not changed. Even now, as workers die and stage high-altitude protests, reporting still focuses solely on “profits” and “exports.” Sometimes, this is linked to nationalistic pride, as when Paris Baguette opening a bakery in France is praised as “K-Bakery.”

Kwon’s funeral was held on December 22, 1991, as a “Busan Workers’ Funeral.” She was buried at the Labor Martyrs’ Cemetery on Sotbalsan Mountain in Yangsan, South Gyeongsang Province. The following April 5, shoe industry workers formed the “Rubber Workers’ Council.”

Kwon’s struggle is documented in labor historian Nam Hwa-sook’s “Chronicles of Female Workers from 1931 to 2011.” As of July 2, Park Jung-hye, a dismissed worker from Korea Optical High-Tech, has been on a rooftop protest for 541 days, and Ko Jin-soo, a laid-off worker from Sejong Hotel, has been on a high-altitude protest for 140 days.

This ongoing fight draws on materials such as the “Diary and Related Documents of Labor Martyr Kwon Mi-kyung” compiled by the task force on December 10, 1991. The full text is available on the website of the Korea Democracy Foundation (https://archives.kdemo.or.kr/isad/view/00325777).