Dear Denmark,

Wow. I know I complain a lot about being here, even if I avoid doing so aloud. It is a complaint that is down in the bones, that reaches out with each breath I take and returns with each inhale. I make an effort not to let it be known--I put on a smiley face and declare to the world, "Hey, I'm happy to be here." Some days it takes an effort, and other days, like today, it's the truth. Let me explain.
Today I had my first parent-teacher meeting. Denmark, have you any idea of the human resources you have at your disposal? The flowers that are coming up through the cracks in the concrete? Have you any idea of the people who come to your shores, their stories, their struggles, triumphs, dreams?
Well, I got a glimpse of it tonight and it's the brightest evidence of hope I have seen in a long time and if I were to close my eyes and never awake, know that I have been touched by this.
Touched by the beautiful Iraqi boy who shows up with his father--a man tortured, a family fleeing, a birth in an immigration jail, a triumphant landing here, in Denmark. A young boy, whose eyes still speaks of horrors but is lulled by faith, a young boy who translates to his father what I say, in few words, because, "In Arabic, many words, mean many different things." Thank you. Thank you, thank you. In life, I can not ask for more.
As a child of immigrant parents, whose story often mirrors many others, I am thankful for this opportunity to extend to them what was extended to me so many years ago at school: compassion and a belief that they can do anything they set their minds to. You know why? Cause it's true. And you better believe it. This is the future of Denmark. And I am happy to be a part of it.
Peace,
the lab