TIME Magazineのインスタグラム(time) - 10月22日 10時34分

It’s been eight years since South Korean prosecutor Seo Ji-hyun says she was sexually harassed, but it’s still painful to recall. “For a long time, I tortured myself by blaming myself for everything,” she tells TIME in Seoul. Seo alleges she was repeatedly groped at a funeral by a senior male colleague, while the country’s Justice Minister sat nearby, in 2010. Seo reported the incident to her managers shortly after, but was subjected to performance audits that she describes as unfair, and assigned to a lower level branch outside Seoul—a move she says did not match her strong track record at work. Last fall, Seo watched as #MeToo took off. She began to grasp how widespread sexual harassment and assault were. Seo added her voice to the rising global chorus in January, sharing her experience in an open letter on her workplace intranet and signing it with #MeToo. Within a few hours of posting, she says the Justice Department said her statement was false and refused to issue an apology. (The Ministry of Justice did not respond to TIME’s repeated requests for comment on the case; Seo’s alleged harasser has denied the charge, saying he was too drunk at the time to recall what happened.) That evening, Seo spoke on one of South Korea’s most influential news programs. Her words resonated: she is widely credited with kick-starting South Korea’s version of the movement. Women’s rights activists and survivors across Asia have seen the global reckoning confronting sexual harassment, assault and abuse as a chance to shape their own national conversations about gender #inequality, amid intense backlash and great personal risk. But the broader cultural impact of speaking out in such challenging environments is creating a groundswell of support and solidarity. Photograph by @timfranco for TIME. Video by @ariahychen for TIME

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