In the quiet streets of Jeju Island, a mother’s search for her child’s lost name has become a powerful symbol of remembrance and resilience. The story, now brought to life in director Jeong Ji-young’s documentary My Name Is…, traces the enduring legacy of the Jeju April 3 Uprising and its aftermath, where thousands were killed, disappeared, or left without official records of their existence. As the film prepares for its opening week at Gwangju Cinema, audiences are invited to witness not just a historical account, but a deeply personal journey of reclamation.
The documentary centers on a mother who, decades after the violence of 1948–1949, continues to seek official recognition for her child, whose name was erased from family registers during the widespread crackdown. Her struggle reflects a broader effort by survivors and families to restore dignity to those whose identities were systematically obliterated during one of Korea’s most traumatic postwar episodes. Through interviews, archival footage, and intimate moments of reflection, Jeong Ji-young captures how the absence of a name is not merely administrative—it is a wound that persists across generations.
According to verified screening schedules from Gwangju Cinema’s official social media account, My Name Is… will open its first week with showings on April 20, 2026 at 7:40 PM, April 21 at 1:00 PM, and April 22 at 3:20 PM. These times are listed in the cinema’s weekly programming update, which serves as the authoritative source for current showtimes. The film’s presentation in Gwangju—a city with its own profound history of democratic resistance—adds another layer of significance to its screening, connecting regional histories of struggle and remembrance.
광주극장 첫 주 시간표 04.20(월) 19:40 04.21(화) 13:00 04.22(수) 15:20.
&mdash. 광주극장 (@cine_gwangju) April 16, 2026
The film’s title, My Name Is…, echoes the central question posed by survivors: who were they, and why were they erased? During the Jeju April 3 Uprising, which began on April 3, 1948, and lasted until May 1949, tens of thousands of Jeju Islanders were killed, imprisoned, or forced into exile in a campaign framed as anti-communist suppression. Many victims were buried in mass graves, their deaths unrecorded, their names struck from official documents. In the decades that followed, survivors faced stigma, silence, and bureaucratic obstacles when attempting to reclaim their loved ones’ identities.
Efforts to document and honor the victims have grown in recent years, supported by legislative action and civic initiatives. In 2000, the South Korean government enacted the Special Act on the Jeju April 3 Uprising, which officially recognized the state’s responsibility for the violence and established a framework for investigation, reconciliation, and memorialization. This law led to the creation of the Jeju April 3 Peace Foundation, which oversees research, exhumation efforts, and educational programs aimed at preserving the truth of what happened.
More recently, in 2021, the National Assembly passed amendments to strengthen the investigative mandate of the Truth and Reconciliation Commission, allowing it to re-examine cases related to the April 3 events. These developments have enabled families to submit applications for official recognition of victims, including requests to restore names to family registries—a process that, while slow, has brought closure to some. As of 2024, over 10,000 individuals have been officially recognized as victims of the uprising, though advocates say many more remain unidentified due to incomplete records and the passage of time.
Director Jeong Ji-young, known for his socially conscious films such as White Badge and Our Happy Days of Youth, approaches this subject with the same commitment to historical truth and human dignity that has defined his career. In interviews, he has emphasized that My Name Is… is not just about the past, but about the ongoing responsibility to listen to those who have been silenced. “A name is the first thing we lose when we are dehumanized,” he stated in a 2023 interview. “To recover it is to begin the process of healing.”
The film’s release coincides with renewed public interest in Korea’s historical reckoning, particularly as younger generations engage with the complexities of the nation’s postwar trauma. Educational outreach programs linked to the documentary have been developed in collaboration with civil society groups, aiming to bring the story into classrooms and community centers. These efforts are part of a broader movement to ensure that the lessons of April 3 are not forgotten, but actively taught as part of Korea’s commitment to peace and human rights.
As the screenings at Gwangju Cinema proceed, audiences will have the opportunity to engage with a narrative that is both specific and universal—a mother’s love persisting against erasure, a community’s demand for truth, and a nation’s ongoing journey toward reconciliation. The film does not offer easy answers, but it creates space for reflection, remembrance, and the quiet courage of those who refuse to let the past be buried.
For those wishing to learn more about the Jeju April 3 Uprising and related reconciliation efforts, official resources are available through the Jeju April 3 Peace Foundation and the South Korean Ministry of the Interior and Safety. Updates on ongoing investigations and memorial projects can be found through the Presidential Truth and Reconciliation Commission, which continues to accept applications for victim recognition.
We invite readers to share their thoughts on this story and the importance of historical memory in shaping a more just future. Join the conversation by commenting below and sharing this article with others who believe in the power of remembrance.