Eleven Years of Grief: Remembering the Sewol Ferry Tragedy

*Thank you for reading my newsletter about Korea. I’ve been writing a series about Korean education lately.

But today, April 16th, I need to set that aside – because today marks the 11th anniversary of the Sewol ferry disaster—a day of profound grief and reflection in Korea.

**Given the time difference, it’s already April 17 in South Korea as I write this from the U.S.


For those unfamiliar with the Sewol ferry tragedy, I want to take a moment to explain what happened—and why it continues to be a deep wound in the Korean national consciousness.

Understanding the Sewol disaster is key to understanding contemporary South Korea.

Sewol Ferry Tragedy

The Day Hope Sank

On the morning of April 16, 2014, the Sewol ferry departed from Incheon en route to Jeju Island, a popular vacation destination. On board were 476 passengers, including families, crew members, and most heartbreakingly, 325 high school juniors from Danwon High School, heading out on a long-anticipated school trip.

But off Korea’s southwest coast, something went terribly wrong.

The ship—illegally modified and overloaded with cargo—began to tilt and take on water after making a sharp turn. Distress signals were sent. The situation was urgent. And yet, no swift rescue came.

Over the ship’s intercom, an announcement was made again and again:

“Stay where you are. Do not move.”

Trusting the adults, the authorities, and the system, the students stayed put. They waited.

And the ship continued to sink.

By the time the situation was undeniably catastrophic, escape routes were blocked. Panic set in. For many, it was too late.

Out of 476 people, only 172 were rescued.

304 people died.

250 of them were high school students who never made it home.


A Cascade of Failures

  • Safety negligence: The ferry had been illegally altered to carry more passengers and cargo, compromising its stability. On the day of the disaster, it was severely overloaded—routine violations that inspectors had overlooked.
  • Falsified inspections: Safety checks had been passed despite glaring problems. Oversight was corrupt, lazy, or both.
  • Crew incompetence and abandonment: The captain and key crew members fled the sinking ship first, abandoning the passengers and contradicting all emergency protocols.
  • Botched rescue response: The Coast Guard’s efforts were slow, disorganized, and ineffective. There was confusion about who was in charge, miscommunication between agencies, and critical time was lost. Families watched helplessly from the nearby shore as their children disappeared below the water.


From Grief to Fury

Korea fell into collective mourning.

Yellow ribbons began appearing everywhere—on fences, backpacks, cars, trees. They symbolized grief, remembrance, and hope. But soon, grief turned to outrage.

The Sewol disaster exposed long-standing issues: corruption, bureaucratic inefficiency, cronyism, and a society that too often prioritized profit, appearances, and obedience over human life.

Grieving parents became tireless activists.

Citizens held candlelight vigils and protests. Students led silent marches. Millions took to the streets demanding justice, transparency, and systemic reform.

This public movement became one of the most powerful civic actions in Korean history—and played a crucial role in the impeachment of President Park Geun-hye in 2017.


“We Will Not Forget”

The Sewol ferry disaster didn’t just take lives. It shattered public trust.

And even eleven years later, many Koreans feel the fight is not over.

Some inquiries have concluded. Some individuals have been punished.

But for many families, justice remains incomplete—and the full truth remains obscured.

The wound is still open. The grief is still raw.

And every year on April 16, Koreans remember.


Why It Still Matters

Today, my Korean friends’ social media feeds are filled with yellow ribbons and solemn posts.

They mourn not only the lives lost, but also the injustices unresolved.

To my non-Korean friends who may not see these messages in your feed, I wanted to leave one here—

Because this story matters, even beyond Korea.

It’s a story about responsibility.

About trust and betrayal.

About how societies treat the vulnerable—and what happens when systems built to protect instead abandon.


Today, we remember them.

The students who never came home from their school trip.

The teachers and passengers who perished beside them.

The families who carry unimaginable sorrow.

And the citizens who stood up to say:

“잊지 않겠습니다.” (We will not forget.)🕯️🎗️

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