hankyoreh

Members of 4/16 Sewol Families for Truth and A Safer Society and others in solidarity with the bereaved families stand outside the headquarters of KBS in Seoul on Feb. 22, 2024, to condemn the broadcaster for pulling a documentary for the 10th anniversary of the tragedy from its schedule and to call for it to be aired. (Kim Jung-hyo/The Hankyoreh)

By Lee Jae-yeon, broadcast writer

How fast time flies. When I told acquaintances that I was working on a documentary about the Sewol ferry tragedy, due to air on KBS for the disaster’s 10th anniversary, most of them seemed to be lost in thought, musing over how quickly 10 whole years had passed.

Their pregnant silences and inability to find the right words suggested they were thinking, rightly, that if the children who lost their lives that fateful day had made it out alive, they’d soon be turning 30. 

I sympathize strongly. Ten years ago, I was entrusted with the script and composition of the documentary film, “Upside Down,” which was made possible by ordinary citizens.

The documentary described what some of the kids on the ferry — Seong-bin, Go-un, Se-ho, and Da-young — were like through testimonies by each of their fathers. We wanted to show that the children were so much more than victims of a tragedy, that they were unique individuals who graced this earth with their presence.

We also wanted to show that the Sewol ferry disaster was not something that could be attributed to a single individual, but that the responsibility lies with everyone: those who only had money on their minds when expanding the hull of the ship, who knew that the ferry was overloaded with cargo, who irresponsibly told the students to stay put, who failed to fact check before releasing the announcement that everyone on the ship had been rescued.

It has been 10 years. When producer Lee In-geon approached me to join his team to make a documentary marking the 10th anniversary of the tragedy, I admit that I wasn’t all too eager. I didn’t want to dwell too much on that heartbreaking incident, and I didn’t want to create a work consisting of video footage accompanied by melancholy music. I was also worried that we were using the tragedy’s 10-year anniversary as an excuse to put out a documentary.

When some complained that the never-ending capitalization on tears was getting old, especially with new terrible tragedies occurring like bolts out of the blue every day, I understood where they were coming from.

People are selfish. I couldn’t force anyone to repeatedly live through a tragedy rife with unresolved grief.

My thoughts changed after I read the book that the producer handed me. “I’ll Survive as Wind,” written by Sewol ferry disaster survivor Yu Ga-yeong, harbored the heartbeat of someone living out their ordinary life.

It illustrated a tale recognizable to everyone: a tale of a regular youth in her mid-20s, who, just like her peers, struggled, faced defeat, became disheartened, but still strove to pick herself up from the ground.

We believed that this story would provide solace to us on the occasion of the Sewol ferry disaster’s 10th anniversary, and that there should be opportunities for those who’ve been traumatized to share their experiences. That’s how the Sewol ferry tragedy’s 10th-anniversary documentary was born.

When I heard the news that the documentary’s initial broadcasting date had been postponed, I couldn’t help but feel bewildered. President Yoon Suk-yeol honored the victims of the tragedy and expressed his deepest condolences to the bereaved families through his social media account two years ago, on the 8th anniversary of the tragedy.

Last year, on the 9th anniversary of the tragedy, then-Minister of Justice Han Dong-hoon decided to not appeal against a ruling ordering additional compensation for the families of Sewol ferry victims, stating, “The decision was made to let the victims recover from the damage by ending the trial quickly as it has been confirmed that the state has responsibility for the disaster.”

This led me to understand that the Sewol ferry incident is a tragedy that transcends the lines between varying political camps and should be remembered by everyone.

Pray, tell us why, on the eve of the tragedy’s 10th anniversary, the general election has become a reason to postpone this documentary. KBS’ “Docu Insight” is a program that even a freelance TV writer like me was proud to work on. In the process of making “Seong-yeo,” “On Losing My Son” and other documentaries, us writers would debate each and every 10-second soundbite from an interview, questioning whether its inclusion might end up hurting someone, or whether it could be misinterpreted by viewers. By persistently asking those questions and debating them, we built up trust. 

In the age of media overabundance, I was proud of the work we did to consider single topics at length and in-depth, to cautiously reach our conclusions and share them with the world. That work was a gift. 

And so I believed that the documentary to mark the 10th anniversary of the Sewol’s tragic sinking would be produced along these same lines. But instead, we were hit with a unilateral order to cease production. 

Braving rain and snow, the families of those who died aboard that ferry are protesting outside the KBS headquarters the same way they did 10 years ago. I pray that what has happened isn’t allowed to easily slip from our memory. I hope that the record will show that the all-too-young lost their lives one day in the sea — that despite the horrific nature of this incident, we had to walk on eggshells with our sorrow, and that even after 10 years had passed, that people continue to be inexplicably silenced for talking about this tragedy. 

They say a writer has to produce work to earn that title. So here I am, writing this, having lost the medium I once spoke through. 

Please direct questions or comments to [english@hani.co.kr]