In 2001, seven years before South Korea’s abolishment of the male-dominated family registration system took effect, novelist Gong Ji-young wrote an angry column for a local daily for the sake of her children.

Before the abolishment of the system, women were not allowed to register their children under their own family name, as the law stipulated that all individuals must be registered under their biological father’s name only. This meant the children’s names could not be changed even if their mother was remarried after being divorced or widowed.

Gong, who was married to her third husband at the time, had two children from her previous marriages. Because of the old registration system, she could not re-register them under her or her new spouse’s name. This meant the children could not be added as dependents to their stepfather’s health insurance plan. They ended up having different last names, exposing them to further social stigma.

“I even thought about fabricating new birth certificates (for my children),” Gong wrote in her column, demanding change.

Some 14 years later, Gong’s experience -- along with those of many other women who suffered under the system -- has been archived at Yeogi, the first-ever gender-themed library in Korea. 

Located in Daebang-dong, southwest Seoul, the 857-square-meter property houses some 10,000 books on gender equality policies and the women’s rights movement in Korea, including documents related to the monumental abolishment of the family registration system, which was announced in 2005 and took effect in 2008.

“There is something empowering about remembering,” said lawyer Kang Kum-sil, the former minister of justice between 2003 and 2004. Her academic paper, published in 2000 about the flaws of the old family registration system, triggered public debate that eventually led to its abolishment.

“We have to remember that the abolishment was the result of some 50 years of work. The issue was brought up for the first time even before I was born. I was born in 1957, and it was in 1952 that Lee Tae-young, the first female lawyer in Korea, spoke out about the need to change the family registration system.

“The abolishment was only possible because someone acknowledged that there was a problem, and people kept speaking about it for a very long time. We have to remember that it is resilience that brings change.”

The public perception to the change wasn’t always favorable in the early 2000s. Kang had to endure being cursed at in public by those who opposed the system’s abolishment when she was the justice minister. Many critics of women’s rights activists claimed they were “encouraging divorce and family disintegration” by trying to get rid of the tradition reflected in the system.

For others, it was about sexist remarks.

“I remember someone who was against the abolishment saying, ‘when someone gets a drink from a vending machine, who does that drink belong to? The person who inserted the coins or the vending machine itself?’” said Kwon Hae-hyo, an actor who has been involved in women’s rights activism for more than a decade.

Among the prominent guests who attended the opening ceremony of the library last Tuesday was Lee Hee-ho, 92, one of Korea’s earliest women’s rights activists and the widow of late President Kim Dae-jung. One of her best-known activities includes the 1959 public campaign called “Let’s get marriage certificates.”

At the time, most Koreans weren’t familiar with the idea of marriage certificates, and many “married” women weren’t even aware of the existence of the legal practice. Many women ended up being kicked out of the house and even forced to leave their children after years of marriage, after their unfaithful husbands’ mistresses registered themselves as legal wives.

“Please remember those who have fought for equality in the earlier years,” Lee said during the opening ceremony.

Aside from literary works, memoirs of activists who worked for sex workers’ rights and victims of sexual violence, and programs from all editions of the Seoul International Women’s Film Festival are featured. The library also houses documents related to Korea’s landmark court cases in women’s rights, including the nation’s first sexual harassment case, which was brought against a chemistry professor at Seoul National University in 1993.

The case, filed by professor Shin Jung-hyu’s teaching assistant Woo Hee-jeong, contributed enormously to raising awareness about sexual harassment in Korea. Woo, who had claimed Shin didn’t renew her contract for not complying with his abuse, won her suit in the Supreme Court in 1998, six years after she filed her initial complaint. She was represented by six lawyers, including current Seoul Mayor Park Won-soon.

“I am still thankful that Woo did not give up in those six years,” Mayor Park said.

“At the time, she had been preparing to get married, and her in-laws were clearly not happy with her lawsuit and told her to withdraw it. If she did give up after losing the second trial, we may not have the awareness we have now of sexual harassment. Many people weren’t aware of the definition of sexual harassment at the time. Her courage and resilience deserve our appreciation and deserve to be remembered.”

In the library, it is hard to tell apart the desks from the bookshelves. The congruous furniture can be easily assembled and dismantled according to needs.

“I wanted this place to be a museum, an art gallery and a library at the same time,” said Kang Ye-rin, the architect who designed the library.

“One can create a room by connecting the bookshelves, while the shelves can be also used as desks. This represents the history of women’s rights movement, which has been accumulated (in different forms and places).”

For Kim Kwang-yee, who currently heads an NGO advocating for the rights of women with disabilities, inclusiveness is what she wants to see most at Yeogi. She donated to the library a number of personal documents related to an international event she attended with 600 other women with disabilities from around the world in Washington, in 1997.

“It was a one-time event organized by an American woman with disabilities who was working for her government at the time. The same event never happened again,” Kim said.

“But it was a life-changing experience for me as I had been struggling to get a job. No company would accommodate a disabled person’s unique needs in their working environment in the ’80s and ’90s. Meeting these women made me realize how important solidarity is and sort of gave me a sense of purpose in life.”

She pointed out that some of the bookshelves at the library were too tall for wheelchair-bound visitors, meaning some books were inaccessible to them.

Kim said Korea still has a long way to go to achieve gender equality, and the key to bringing significant changes is social policies based on inclusiveness and respect for diversity.

“We want to be included in the definition of women, rather than separately categorized as women with disabilities,” she said. “I want to see books about us included in all sections of the library, rather than seeing them placed in a small, separate section. We want ourselves and our stories to be seen as much as possible.”

Those who wish to donate books or learn more about the library can visit www.genderlibrary.or.kr or call (02) 810-5018.

Its categories for resources include human rights, violence, work-life balance, employment equality, labor rights, culture and women’s health. The library houses some English-language resources as well. 

By Claire Lee (dyc@heraldcorp.com)