Artist Seo Eun-hye weeps as Gyeonggi Province budget cut threatens 30 jobs

Artist Seo Eun-hye expressed deep distress in a YouTube video released on the 23rd after learning the 2027 budget for rights-centered public jobs in Gyeonggi Province is expected to be slashed from 12.7 billion won to 0 won, potentially leaving 30 fellow artists without work.

Seo Eun-hye, an artist with Down syndrome, broke into tears upon learning that the jobs of her fellow artists are at risk. Shocked by news that the budget for rights-centered public jobs in Gyeonggi Province has been completely slashed, she appealed for help, worrying more about the future of her colleagues than her own situation, stating, "It feels suffocating without the artists." Her tears reflected the reality that the workplace for disabled artists, who receive salaries while continuing their creative activities through painting, may disappear.

A Shorts video titled "Eun-hye's tears, thinking of 30 fellow artists facing dismissal..." was released on Seo Eun-hye's YouTube channel on the 23rd. In the video, Seo broke down in tears after hearing that the 2027 budget for rights-centered public jobs in Gyeonggi Province is expected to be cut from the existing 12.7 billion won to 0 won. While repeatedly wiping away tears, she struggled to explain the situation facing her colleagues, appearing so deeply shocked that she could barely continue speaking.

Recalling the efforts made to maintain her employment, Seo Eun-hye said, "I even borrowed money to pay the 50 million won prize money because I didn't have it." She expressed concern for her colleagues, saying, "We were all receiving salaries while doing painting work at our jobs, but now we can't. My brother is also painting." Even in moments where her emotions were so overwhelming that her speech was not smooth, she repeatedly mentioned the lives of the people she has painted with.

Seo Eun-hye attempted to speak calmly about her own situation. While saying, "I am okay. When customers come, I have to give autographs," she showed deep sadness regarding the possibility of her colleagues disappearing from their workplace. While she may still have customers seeking her work and opportunities to continue painting, her reaction suggests she finds it difficult to accept the situation where the artists she has worked with lose their jobs.

In particular, her words, "I can't do it without my colleagues. It feels suffocating without the artists," resonated most poignantly in the video. For Seo Eun-hye, the workplace was not merely a space to paint and receive a salary; it was a community where she could create alongside colleagues doing the same work and confirm each other's existence. The fear that this relationship could collapse erupted in tears. She also emphasized her will to continue her creative activities, stating, "I never said I would quit. I still have to do it."

This story prompts a reconsideration of what public jobs for people with disabilities mean to those involved. Such jobs do not merely provide economic income; they can serve as a foundation for social participation, professional independence, and maintaining relationships with colleagues. For disabled artists who express their thoughts and emotions through artistic activities, a stable creative environment is a crucial condition for continuously producing work. Interest is needed in the specific circumstances of the artists who will be affected and the follow-up measures if the budget cut is realized.

Seo Eun-hye first gained public recognition for her role as the twin sister of Yeong-hui (played by Han Ji-min) in the tvN drama "Our Blues." Her presence in the work as an individual with Down syndrome left a deep impression on many viewers. Since then, she has been active as an artist, expressing her own world through painting. In May last year, she began a new chapter of her life by marrying Jo Yeong-nam, whom she met through public jobs for people with developmental disabilities.

Seo Eun-hye's concern for her colleagues' jobs, while simultaneously presenting her own work as a well-known artist, prompts a reflection on the reality faced by disabled artists. Her reason for weeping was not simply the fact that the budget was reduced; it was the great fear that she might no longer be able to remain in the same workplace as the colleagues with whom she has lived, painted, and earned a salary. Attention is now focused on whether her desperate plea, "It feels suffocating without the artists," can lead to measures that protect actual jobs and creative activities.

Read the original (Korean)