Relief Measures for Migrant Students Won't Arrive Until 2028
"Will she be able to go to school? Will we be able to keep living here?" Ms. A, the mother of six-year-old Suji (a pseudonym) who is set to enter elementary school next year, worries about her daughter's future, which differs from that of her peers. Although Suji was born and raised in South Korea, she is an undocumented child of migrant background with no legal residency status. Ms. A's E-9 visa (a stay permit for foreign workers), issued in her home country of Nepal, does not extend to her children, and once it expired, Suji too lost any legal status. An estimated 20,000 such children live in South Korea.
Under the law, undocumented children can attend school. In practice, however, fear of deportation often makes access to public education difficult. Pundipsun (8), who attends an elementary school in Jongno District, Seoul, was an undocumented child until two years ago, when he gained legal status through a relief program. Asked about his dream, Pundipsun said, "I want to be a soccer player," while his mother, Tapa Sneha (33), said she hopes her son will first focus on doing well in school.
In 2021, the Ministry of Justice announced the "Conditional Relief Measures for Undocumented Children Born in South Korea." Under the program, children and their parents are granted residency status through high school graduation if they meet certain requirements and pay a fine. But the process is hampered by difficult paperwork and Korean-language administrative documents, and even with a 70 percent reduction, families that have stayed undocumented for seven years or more face fines of up to 18 million won for two caregivers. As a result, some families are unable to send their children to school.
Undocumented children fall through the cracks even before they start school. At the daycare level, there are no separate relief measures for obtaining residency status, and children may face restrictions in receiving childcare subsidies or priority enrollment. Because parents fearing exposure of their status hesitate to use daycare, children also miss opportunities to develop language and social skills. Rabibega, a child from Bangladesh, is a case in point. Because her parents barred her from outside activities out of fear of deportation, Rabibega only started daycare at age seven. The child showed symptoms of childhood depression and struggled greatly to adjust even after entering elementary school. Kim Geum-hee, director of Janghyeon Summer Hill Daycare, which Rabibega attended, said that peer relationships are crucial for children aged zero to seven, as this is when they learn language and social skills.
Access to healthcare is also limited. Ms. A said, "When Suji was two, she was punctured by a ballpoint pen and had her wound stitched at the emergency room, which cost 1.7 million won. They told us she had no registration number or passport, so they wouldn't even check her in easily." Dr. Jeong Tae-uk added, "A simple examination and prescription cost 110,000 won."
The relief program does not guarantee residency status after high school graduation and operates only on a temporary basis until March 31, 2028. The residency anxieties of undocumented children facing school enrollment and their families thus remain unresolved.
