As K-pop continues to dominate global music charts, South Korea has emerged as a beacon for aspiring artists worldwide. However, the allure of stardom can mask the harsh realities faced by many young trainees drawn to the country with dreams of fame. An investigation reveals troubling allegations of exploitation, harassment, and unfulfilled promises at K-pop training academies, casting a shadow over the industry’s glamorous exterior.
The Illusion of Stardom
In 2024, a young girl named Miyu, whose name has been changed for her protection, embarked on an ambitious journey from Japan to South Korea, investing approximately 3 million yen (£14,500) in a six-month training programme at a Seoul-based K-pop academy. Promised a comprehensive curriculum of dance and vocal coaching, alongside regular audition opportunities with major entertainment firms, Miyu’s hopes quickly faded. “There were supposed to be weekly auditions, but that never happened,” she recounted in Hongdae, a vibrant area known for its music culture. Instead, she faced inadequate lessons and, alarmingly, alleged sexual harassment from a senior staff member. The academy in question has refuted these claims.
Miyu’s experiences are not isolated. Other trainees from the same academy have voiced similar concerns, including allegations of harassment and a lack of promised audition opportunities. The company maintains that it has provided adequate audition chances, noting that nearly 200 foreign trainees have participated in its programmes since opening its doors in the late 2010s.
A Regulatory Grey Area
K-pop training facilities in South Korea are classified either as Hagwon (private academies) or entertainment agencies. The latter category, which includes the academy Miyu attended, falls outside the purview of the Ministry of Education’s regulations, leading to a concerning lack of oversight. Local officials acknowledge the difficulties in monitoring these “academy-type agencies,” as they are free to teach language and dance to foreign nationals without stringent requirements.
A representative from the Ministry of Education confirmed, “Current regulations do not restrict travel and entertainment agencies from teaching language and dance to foreign nationals.” This gap in regulation leaves aspiring artists vulnerable, as they navigate an industry where the promise of success can often lead to exploitation.
Harrowing Experiences of Trainees
The challenges faced by Miyu and her peers are compounded by the competitive nature of the K-pop industry, which has become increasingly difficult to penetrate. The majority of trainees are foreign nationals, often encountering language barriers, visa complications, and an unfamiliar legal framework. Despite these hurdles, the allure of fame continues to draw many to South Korea.
Miyu’s enthusiasm for K-pop, ignited by global sensations like Lisa from Blackpink, transformed into disillusionment when her reality clashed with expectations. She reported distressing incidents involving a senior staff member who allegedly monitored her movements and made inappropriate advances. “He took me to a convenience store alone saying he would buy me ice cream. While I was choosing, he put his hand on my waist and said, ‘good body,’” she recounted, expressing the lasting trauma these experiences inflicted.
Another trainee, Elin, confirmed similar harassment by the same individual, describing how he inappropriately touched her while ostensibly teaching her Korean. These accounts paint a disturbing picture of an industry where young women are often left unprotected.
The Aftermath and Ongoing Recruitment
Despite the troubling allegations, the academy continues to recruit new trainees, promoting its K-pop programmes on social media. Elin, who ultimately reported her experiences to the police, faced disappointment when her case was dismissed for lack of evidence. She has since pursued a legal appeal against both the staff member and the academy for breach of contract. “K-pop has gained worldwide fame — and with that comes responsibility,” she asserted. “At the very least, I hope the children who chase this dream can do so in a safer environment.”
Miyu, though shaken, retains her aspirations of becoming an idol. “Whenever things were hard, I held on by listening to K-pop. I still want to become an idol, no matter what,” she declared, illustrating the powerful hold that the K-pop phenomenon has over its aspirants.
Why it Matters
The troubling narratives emerging from K-pop training academies underscore the urgent need for reform within this lucrative industry. As international interest in K-pop grows, so does the necessity for regulatory frameworks that protect aspiring artists from exploitation and harassment. The voices of these young women reveal the stark contrast between the glitz of K-pop and the harsh realities many face, highlighting a critical issue that demands attention from both industry leaders and policymakers alike.
