June 9, 2025
SEOUL – When Kim Yong-min turned five, his mother walked out, taking with her his three sisters and every last possession, including the deed to their home. Kim and his four other siblings were left with his father, who did nothing to feed them. The family moved into his grandmother’s 33-square-meter home in Gwangju — a house with no bathroom.
At first, Kim didn’t realize his life was different. But when he invited classmates over and they mocked him for using a chamber pot, shame set in. The bullying was relentless. By middle school, he had stopped eating at home — there was simply no food. He washed dishes at restaurants for 2,500 won ($1.8) an hour just to survive.
At 18, his grandmother – the only person he could rely on emotionally – was diagnosed with a brain tumor. Surgery would cost over 10 million won. Desperate to save her, he took one of the country’s most perilous jobs: working on a deep-sea fishing vessel. Just three months into the job, she died, but Kim stayed at sea, believing that without his income, his sisters would starve to death.
Four years later, in 2023, he returned to land — injured and exhausted. Then came a call that shocked him: For all those years he had believed he was entirely on his own, he had, in fact, been entitled to a range of government support as a “child in need of protection.”
Because his parents and extended family were unable to support him financially, he should have received a monthly allowance for guardians caring for protected children, a lump-sum settlement upon turning 18, and a five-year stipend meant to help care leavers transition into adulthood.
When he tried to claim the benefits belatedly, he was told that his aunt — who he said had abused him — had taken all his settlement funds and monthly allowance using a proxy signature of his.
“If I had known I was entitled (to that support),” said Kim, now 26 years old, “I would never have risked my life at sea.”
Slipping through the cracks
Kim is not an orphan. He was taken in by extended family when his parents failed. But ironically, having somewhere to go can cause children in need of protection to slip through the cracks of the system.
When a child has no guardian, or when a guardian is unable to provide care due to abuse, neglect, incarceration or poverty, South Korea’s child welfare system classifies them as being “in need of protection.” This category includes children placed in orphanages, group homes or foster care. Foster care also applies to cases like Kim’s, where children are raised by extended family members or relatives.
“Kids in orphanages at least get some structure and guidance,” said Kim Ha-na, CEO of the social enterprise Brother’s Keeper — founded by a care leaver who grew up in an orphanage and now hires others like him to give them career opportunities.
In 2021, there were 9,541 children in foster care, including 8,452 placed with relatives. The main reasons for placement included parental divorce, death, separation, abandonment and incarceration.
“Many don’t even realize they were part of the system. Many of them aren’t even counted in government statistics. Those raised by relatives often grow up completely invisible,” said Kim.
Some only learn they were considered “care leavers” after their five-year support period has ended. This is especially common among those raised by relatives or in foster care, said Kim Ji-sun, a researcher at the Korea Institute for Health and Social Affairs.
“Care leavers who grew up in foster care — with limited access to information — often live in a constant state of anxiety, shouldering all responsibilities alone,” said researcher Kim.
When they enter society, even greater challenges await.
“They’re also extremely naive,” Kim Ha-na said. “Many fall into debt within months of receiving settlement funds. Some are exploited by their parents — who once neglected them but come back only for money — as well as by scammers or relatives.”
Brother’s Keeper’s Kim Ha-na found that many care leavers struggle with depression, trauma, attention deficit hyperactivity disorder and borderline intellectual functioning. “They lack social skills, confidence and the ability to take initiative — things they never had a chance to develop during childhood. That makes adapting to society even harder.”
According to a 2023 Welfare Ministry survey of 5,032 care leavers, 46.5 percent said they had considered suicide — 4.4 times higher than the youth average of 10.5 percent.
Many also prioritize immediate income over long-term careers, said Kim Yong-min, now a member of Gwangju’s youth council and leader of a local support group for care leavers.
“When you age out of the system, you feel completely alone,” he said. “You truly believe you’ll starve if you don’t work.”
“So instead of building a career, many jump into whatever brings quick cash — part-time jobs, bars, even sex work or gambling. Planning for the future feels like a luxury.”
More than money, they need mentors
Oh Hye-ji, an official at the Welfare Ministry in charge of care leavers, was raised by her grandmother after her parents divorced and cut off contact. Without parental guidance, she struggled to find information about college, career and adult life. Her elderly grandmother couldn’t help.
“I desperately needed someone — a parent figure or mentor — to guide me through that stage,” she said.
While Oh and others have managed to build stable careers, many do not. Financial support isn’t enough, she said — what these young people truly need is an adult who can offer practical guidance on money, life decisions and the future.
According to documents from the National Center for the Rights of the Child, obtained by Rep. Baek Jong-hun, there were 9,970 care leavers as of December last year, but only 217 government officials were assigned to support them. These officials are tasked with assisting care leavers during the five years after they leave state care at 18.
What’s most important is for care leavers who’ve successfully transitioned into society to serve as mentors, Oh said. But this requires government funding — something still lacking.
Yoon Jae-keun, 34, now works as a manager at Brother’s Keeper. He aged out of care in 2012, when the support system was minimal — just 3 million won in settlement funds and no monthly aid.
“Things are better now, financially. Many companies are getting involved,” he said. “But many of these young people aren’t ready. I’ve seen many who rely on the money but have no plan for the future.”
What they truly need, he emphasized, is good adults — people who offer emotional support, mentorship and a roadmap for life after care.
Before joining Brother’s Keeper, Yoon was withdrawn, timid and self-conscious — a result of years of abuse in an orphanage. Everything changed when he met the organization’s founder, Kim Sung-min.
“For the first time, I could talk about what I had bottled up,” he said. “Kim encouraged me, listened to me and gave me confidence. I started to open up.”
“In the end, what care leavers need most are mentors who stick with them — before and after they leave the system,” said Yoon, who mentors children in care through the nonprofit Food for the Hungry. “I was lucky. Most aren’t.”