Final Reflection

Over the course of the program, three consistent loves emerged for me: a love for Espresso House, a love for those I met, and a love for my home.

Espresso House

Sugar was an essential part of this first love, Espresso House. For those unfamiliar with the brand, Espresso House can best be described as the Nordic version of Starbucks. Within a five-minute walk of the hotel, there were 2, 3, maybe even 4 of them in sight (very reminiscent of Starbucks on UW’s campus). Despite being thousands of miles away from our home, the coffee here tasted largely the same. I consistently chose the sweetness of a latte, with some added caramel. Being so far away from home, yet having that same tasting experience was something that sparked my curiosity. How could two coffees, from different coffee shops, thousands of miles and kilometers apart, in two separate countries, on two separate continents, share the same sweet flavor?

After our viewing of “We Carry it Within Us”, Helle Stenum, made the remark that “Sugar changed the world’s pallet”. As I discussed in my second week’s reflection, along with during my presentation, these words were incredibly impactful and perspective-altering to me. Sugar had transcended previously untraveled lengths and boundaries and has forever changed the way we consumed food – but at what cost?

My final project for this course involved “contextualizing our conversations”, meaning that I took average, every-day aspects of our program (where we ate, what we watched, where we went) and analyzed the surrounding privileges and histories of those seemingly routine activities. The first one I focused on is sugar.

To think of the globalization of product today seems easy – we have planes, trains, and the internet which can transport goods, ideas, and information at incredible rates. In the 1700s and 1800s, they didn’t have that. Slaves in the Danish West Indies, now the U.S. Virgin Islands, were the ones tasked with the crude and taxing work of picking and processing the sugar cane. They put in the work, yet Denmark and these various European colonial powers take all the credit when it comes to the globalization of sugar.

To think that colonialism was the supply chain of the 18th and 19th centuries is not only a rather late and unsurprising revelation, but also something so deeply upsetting to me. Every act of colonialism was a selfish business move – everything from where to produce sugar cane, where to find labor, to how many Africans could be tight packed into a transatlantic ship – all were calculated business decisions to enrich the pockets of empires and their aristocrats.

To sit here, in nearly the exact same airplane seat as four weeks ago, and claim that I truly knew why I wanted to come to Denmark to study abroad for a month would be fictious. I’d always admired the architecture, culture, environmental and social progressiveness, and language of the Scandinavian nation, but those are nothing but buzz words – nothing that separated me from any other tourist coming for a prolonged adventure of Danish exceptionalism.

It wasn’t until Juliana and Morten had us put together our final presentations that I discovered my hidden need to come. As a supply chain major, much of my studies is centered around global resources, trade, and business to business interaction. Everything from nuts and bolts to 787 aircraft are part of the larger global supply chain. While fathoming the immense coordination that managing a supply chain for an aircraft would take, it is a lot easier to “zoom in” on certain aspects of the final product to gain a better understanding of where everything is coming from.

“Zooming in” on my love for Espresso House allowed me the opportunity to better explore how my world and coffee back home were connected to what I was experiencing and tasting in Denmark. “Zooming out” on that love allowed me to finally understand a huge reason why I came – to contextualize my career.

Colonialism, public art, and activism are not exactly a core course requirement in the Foster School of Business, but I think this course has provided me with more reflection and perspective than any other international relations course I’ve had to take. It’s one thing to know how to do your job today, but it’s another entirely to understand the history and hurt that led it to this point. To know the pain that supply chain has caused, and continues to cause, is something, as Juliana often said, I “cannot unknown”. So, what will I do with this information?

To be fully transparent, I don’t know yet. Four weeks in Denmark did not, by any means, make me an expert on this topic, but it did give me a perspective and stories to share. Perhaps time will tell how I can use and share this for good.

The People I Met

The second love that came out of this trip was for the people I met.

Often times something so perfectly good can be ruined or diminished by the people around. I was so glad that this program provided the opposite of that experience.

With only three meetings prior, many of the students did not know each other or have overlapping friends, clubs, or majors. In fact, most of us, as we found conversing later in the program, were all completely and utterly terrified to come because of this. It is one thing to fly yourself across the world to a foreign place, where you don’t know the culture or maybe even the language, but it’s something entirely else to do that without people you’ve just met and barely know.

Out of all the possible ways this program could have come together, I’m beyond grateful it was with the group of people it did. There’s about 5,000 ways to show how much I apricated our group, but no matter how many times I’ve written and rewritten and rewritten this section in my head, nothing seems to do it justice. I cannot tell you about every moment or explain to you the essence of these amazing people in just a few worlds. To address you, the reader, in this moment feels wrong. So, I won’t. Instead, I’ve included a small letter of what I want to say to each of them below. It seemed more fitting.

Hi Denmark Divas,

Thank you. Thank you for your kindness, your love, and your never-ending curiosity. The support system that we fostered was truly incredible and I simply cannot express how meaningful the relationships we built were.

Coming in, we all had different intentions, interests, and hopes for what this program would be. Few of us come from the same background, but we all took a massive leap of faith and came here to support a common program and goal. Throughout every discussion, talk, tour, and meal our individual positionalities, ideas, and experiences shown. It was incredible to see how interdisciplinary our conversations quickly became, how every piece spoke differently to each of us, and how, despite our differences, we shared so much passion and interest in common.

Thank you, Jamie, for the spot-on questions and for keeping our group’s conversations so interesting and meaningful.

Thank you, Riley, for the mom-energy this trip desperately needed.

Thank you, Julia, for pushing us to try new things and live our lives to the fullest.

Thank you, Brielle, for being a light of positive energy and optimism.

Thank you, Allie, for never shying away from expressing yourself and how you felt.

Thank you, Maya, for always having fun facts roaring to go and for keeping us headed in the right direction.

Thank you, Quinn, for being such a strong advocate for the Ikea cafeteria.

Thank you, Ashley, for the Funcle energy you enthusiastically adopted.

Thank you, Meheq, for always capturing us at our most raw and real moments.

Thank you, thank you, thank you. There’s so much more I wish I knew how to formulate and say, but just do not know the words to do my thoughts justice. Just know how grateful I am for you and everything you brought that made this trip so meaningful.

My Home

The third love I found on this trip was my love for my home.

While many don’t know this, around the start of week two of the program, I got substantially homesick.

I missed my bed and the way I ran my mornings.

I missed my shower and the way I didn’t need to soak my Tevas every time I wanted to rinse off.

I missed my kitchen and the freedom to make my own meals on my own schedule.

But, most of all, I missed my friends.

As a child, I moved houses only once, but I traded between different sectors of the county for different parts of my academic career. Our district gave us the opportunity to specialize our education, which I took full advantage of by transferring to a middle and high school different than my peers. Though we still were in the same general area of the state, each new school level brought a new start – a new chance to make friends, define myself, and try harder. This motto and lifestyle worked for me then and it worked for me when I picked up my life after high school and moved 2,800 miles from Northern Virginia to Seattle, Washington for college.

I love the idea of travel too – a temporary escape or adventure that allows you to control life in a new context for a few days. I love new places and experiences, and I’ve always been good at resetting when I move for longer periods of time, so studying abroad must be a great idea, right? Being able to move to a new environment must still work for me now, right?

Wrong.

Before I continue, I need to ensure you know that my, often crimpling, desire to go home was not a reflection of my thoughts on the program – after all I loved the topics and my second love was for my peers. My desire to go home was rooted in this inexplicable new inability to just leave like I’d done for most of my academic life.

For the first time, I didn’t want to make all new friends, redefine myself, or try even harder. I wanted what I had.

I had friends who I cared about so, so deeply and they cared about me ten-fold.

I had found myself in my faith and was learning to love who I was created to be.

I had begun getting over my blurry work-life balance and was refocusing on enjoying life with the things and people I love.

I didn’t want that to change.

As heartbreaking and depressing as this homesickness was, it was oddly comforting.

For the first time in my life, I’d found people and a place that I did not want to, and now realize I cannot, leave.

I’d long debated moving abroad, solo, after graduation in the spring to get a new environment and experience, but now I’m not so sure that I want that. Don’t get me wrong, I LOVE traveling and will be venturing back to Europe as soon as the funds allow me to, but I no longer think I want that venturing to be permanent.

I love my roommates and Seattle.

I love the fact that none of the apartments in the city have air conditioning in the summer and so I live next to a fan.

I love the high gas prices and the hefty sales tax.

I love that my old car is the perfect fit for parking spaces.

I love the rainy winters and sun-beaming summers.

I love the calm of the lake and bustle of the light rail.

I love it here. I don’t want to leave.

Study abroad in Denmark this summer was extremely impactful academically, as I got to contextualize my career and build new connections and lasting friendships, but I’d argue that the greatest take-away I had from this experience wasn’t the intent of the program at all – it was learning what I cannot live without.

It’s a scary, yet so comforting feeling to know the love you have for your life and people in it transcends any experience, hardship, or dream. So, whoever you are who is reading this, I hope you too find what or who you cannot live without.

Concluding Thoughts

Overall, this experience was incredible. I loved Denmark and it was everything I thought it would be and more, but it was also so much more nuanced, both for good and for bad, than I initially anticipated. Throughout the program, we often discussed this idea of “Scandinavian Exceptionalism”, otherwise known as the, often global, belief that the Scandinavian nations are progressing kilometers ahead of the rest of the western world in ways we cannot even fathom. While that, to some degree is true, there are many aspects of Denmark that are hidden histories and stories – repressed to highlight the white “everything is awesome” narrative about Nordic and Scandinavian life.

For instance, colonialism is as much of a part of Denmark’s history as it is every other major European nation’s, yet, it is discussed only a fraction of the time.

The well-loved welfare system seems to be thriving, but is neglecting BIPOC communities all around the nation.

Denmark has some of, if not the, strictest immigration policies and laws in the European Union (EU).

Racial reporting and metrics are practically non-existent at most Danish institutions, as persons of color make up 8% of the nation’s population.

All this to say, Denmark has problems, but so do we. Selfishly, hearing these statistics throughout the program has made me feel better about where the United States is at. While we certainly have a long, long, LONG way to go, every nation is also struggling with this. As Allie mentioned in her final presentation, this isn’t something we should be discouraged about – this should be inspiring. Inspiring that we have opportunity to grow, nations to partner and catalyze this process with, and a global movement of people ready to take action.

As I continue into my senior year, I cannot wait to see how I can apply what I’ve learned these past four weeks and where it will take not only me, but also the world.

Thank you so much joining me on this journey abroad! Stay tuned for what adventured lie next!