When Peter Pan Grows Up: The Future of Disability Care

ConnectUs Blog Writer Lucia Kwag's Story

A few months ago, the story of a Korean father known as the "Peter Pan dad" captured the attention of many people across South Korea.

Mr. Jeon, a father from South Korea, has spent more than 20 years raising his son, Jewon, alone after divorcing his wife. Jewon lives with a severe developmental disability and, like Peter Pan - the fictional who never grows up - has remained dependent on others for everyday life since childhood.

For more than two decades, Mr. Jeon dedicated his life to caring for his son. But last April, everything changed. After being diagnosed with terminal liver cancer and being told that he might have only six months to live, Mr. Jeon faced a question that no parent should have to face alone:

What will happen to my son when I am no longer here?

Determined to find an answer, he visited more than 1,000 care facilities across South Korea in search of a place that would accept his son. Yet despite his efforts, finding a facility capable of supporting an adult with severe developmental disabilities proved extremely difficult.

His story eventually became known to the public through the television program 실화탐사대 and other media coverage. As more people learned about his situation, they began offering support. Eventually, with the help of many people, Jewon was able to enter an independent-living facility where he could receive continued care and support.

Mr. Jeon passed away on September 5th, 2026.

His story touched me deeply. I could not stop crying as I watched and read about what he had gone through. But beyond the sadness, his story made me think about someone much closer to me: my younger cousin, who was born with autism.

I have always known that my uncle worries about his son's future. Whenever I visit my cousin and listen to my uncle talk about the difficulties his family faces, I realize that I can never fully understand what their everyday life is like unless I experience it myself.

My cousin is now in middle school, but he experiences the world very differently from many children his age. While his peers spend their time socializing with friends and becoming more independent, he finds comfort in playing with toy cars and familiar routines.

And behind him is a father who worries every day.

A father who cannot easily stop thinking about what will happen to his son in the future.

A father who has responsibilities not only toward his son, but also toward his wife, his other child, and his career.

A father who loves his child deeply, but cannot control what will happen when he is no longer able to provide care himself.

Thinking about my cousin's family has also made me reflect on my own life. I have been fortunate to receive an education, study abroad, pursue opportunities that interest me, and have parents who support me as I become more independent. These things often feel ordinary because they are part of my everyday life. But they are privileges that not every person has equal access to.

For me, education is not simply about going to school. It gives me opportunities to develop independence, communicate with others, pursue a career, and imagine a future for myself. I have the privilege of thinking about what university I want to attend and what I want to study. But for families like my uncle's, the question of the future can be much more fundamental:

Who will be there to care for their child when they are gone?

Mr. Jeon's story showed me that this should not be a question that parents have to answer by themselves.

Families should not have to spend years searching for a place that will accept their children. Parents should not have to choose between caring for their children and maintaining their own health, careers, and families. And people with severe developmental disabilities should not have their futures depend entirely on how long their parents are able to care for them.

This is why I believe our society—and our political leaders—need to strengthen the responsibility of the state in providing lifelong disability care. This could include expanding 24-hour integrated care, increasing weekend and overnight support, improving access to supported independent living, and creating stronger transition programs as young people with developmental disabilities become adults.

These services are not simply benefits for families. They are part of building a society where every person can have a secure future, regardless of their level of disability or their parents' ability to provide lifelong care.

Mr. Jeon's story should not become the story of another family.

I hope that one day, fathers like my uncle will not have to lie awake wondering who will care for their children after they are gone. I hope that children like my cousin can grow older knowing that their future does not depend entirely on the people who happen to love them most.

Because care should not end when a parent can no longer provide it.