“Stupid Greenlander” “Greenlandic stiff”
“Drunken Eskimo” “Alcoholic”
“Immigrants” “Have you had a Greenlandic roll?”
“Wise as a Greenlander” “We own you”
“Incestuous individuals” “You are nothing without us”
Those are some of the words that we Greenlanders often have thrown in our faces by Danes.
Greenland has been under Danish colonial rule since 1721, led by missionary Hans Egede, and even though we have self-government today, it is still clear which country dominates. The feeling of being welcome is different when a Dane is in Greenland than when a Greenlander is in Denmark. For example, most of us can speak Danish, and even those who struggle with it still try to speak it. For many, it’s also unavoidable to have to go to Denmark, either to visit family or to study. My mother was sent to Denmark at age 10 to learn Danish. The same thing happened to my two uncles, but fortunately, it was a good experience for them. Could you ever imagine sending your 10-year-old child to Greenland to learn Greenlandic?
I’ve been lucky, as I haven’t experienced the worst of what Greenlanders usually go through—ironically because I speak standard Danish very well and don’t look like a “typical” Greenlander. Still, I sometimes get comments when I drink, since we’re often seen as alcoholics. I’ve also been told on several occasions that I’m very smart or beautiful for a Greenlander, which is NOT a compliment. What I’m telling you now are small things compared to what other Greenlanders have experienced. But it’s still something that shapes you as a person. Especially when you’re in a country where you think you’re treated as an equal. Can you imagine how strange it is to be told you’re smart just because you have light hair? Or that someone refuses to date you just because you look Danish?
My family loves to travel, and for many years it was a tradition for us to visit a new country every year. That’s why I’ve learned that mutual respect really does exist out there. When we’ve met new people in other countries, they’ve shown curiosity and are always open to learning about a country they don’t know. I have many fond memories from my vacations, and I can’t recall a single vacation where we experienced racism or hatred simply because we’re from Greenland. It is only in Denmark that this hatred surfaces. It’s crazy that we learn the language for all 10 years of elementary school and that we study Denmark in subjects like history, yet most Danes still know nothing about Greenland.
As far as I’m concerned, ignorance is forgivable. What I don’t like is the hatred that stems from that ignorance. I’ve met Danes who are open to learning about Greenland. I even have a Danish aataa (grandfather) who fell in love with Greenland. He moved to Greenland to work and ended up meeting my aanaa (grandmother), whom he later married. Even though he lived in Greenland for more than half his life, he always said that he was Danish forever. Despite the pride he felt for the country where he was born, he fell in love with Greenland. And when he passed away, he couldn’t imagine being buried anywhere other than in Greenland. When I have doubts about the relationship between Denmark and Greenland, I often think back to my grandparents. I have never met two people so deeply in love, and one day I would like to find the kind of love they had for each other. My deep connection to Greenland gives me hope that in the future we can achieve mutual respect between the two countries.
Speak Danish
I was born in 2004 in the Realm, specifically in Nuuk, the capital of Greenland. A community I thought was equal. Greenlandic is my native language, and I spoke nothing but that until I started kindergarten, where the majority of the children were Danish. Within a few months, I stopped speaking Greenlandic altogether. Suddenly, I didn’t like the Greenlandic food I usually loved. It was at an early age that I learned that Danes dominated Greenlandic society. We were just children, but I quickly learned to conform to the system.
As I got older and started elementary school, I rediscovered my Greenlandic language. My classmates and I got along well until we got a new science teacher from Denmark. I clearly remember one day when we students were speaking Greenlandic to each other during group work. Suddenly, the teacher started yelling at us. We were shocked by the teacher’s outburst. The teacher got angry because he couldn’t understand us since we were speaking our native language. He accused us of talking behind his back because we were speaking a language he couldn’t understand, so he told us to speak Danish. The incident caused a stir at school, and as a result, we started speaking Danish whenever we had that particular teacher. Can you imagine your child coming home from their Danish public school and saying that their teacher yelled at them and scolded them just for speaking Danish?
I had a similar experience in high school. I’ve always been good with languages. Toward the end of high school, I had to take an oral exam in psychology, and I’d never been so nervous about an oral exam before. The reason for my nervousness was that I knew the students who had taken the exam right before me. I knew one of them as a very smart and talented student who was always prepared and active in class. When she came out of the exam room, I could sense that it hadn’t gone well. She had received a 02. That worried me. If she got such a low grade, what would I get? My exam went surprisingly well, and I got a 12. That made me wonder what it was that I did that she couldn’t? It dawned on me that it was probably because she comes from a small town where her native language is Greenlandic. She was one of the brightest girls I knew in high school, but she wasn’t strong in Danish. Both the external grader and the examiner were Danish. Could things have turned out differently if she’d had the chance to speak her own language? Could you imagine taking your final high school exam with an external grader and an examiner who didn’t speak your native language?
Hunting
As a child, I learned to shoot a rifle. It might sound violent, but as a Greenlander, it’s one of the most natural things in the world. I’m the oldest of five, so I was the first to learn how to hunt. I’ve always cherished the good times I’ve had with my father. I can’t talk about feelings with him, but I can really feel the love he has for me when we’re out in nature. My father has taught me survival skills, not just in nature but also mentally. He has taught me that I must get back up when I stumble, and that there is always a way out. One of the memories I have from our hunting trips is the time I couldn’t cross a river with a strong current. Instead of turning back, he carried me across the river. He has taught me to stand tall, even when faced with challenges. He has also taught me to have a deep respect for nature. At a young age, he taught me to make use of the entire reindeer once we had shot it. We have always only hunted the animals we needed, and my father’s gratitude for the catch was always evident. An example of this gratitude is when my father shot two reindeer. Even though it would normally be too much to carry alone, he did it. He walked several kilometers alone through the harsh wilderness, just so the catch wouldn’t go to waste. It was so hard that the next day he was so sore he couldn’t walk. My father is one of my biggest role models, as I have never met a man like him with such great respect for nature and others. Could you imagine shooting your own organic pig? Instead of going to Netto and buying beef and organic eggs.
Another thing I love about hunting is coming home to a happy mom who’s been waiting anxiously all day to see if we’ve made a kill. Because a kill means we’ll have food in the freezer for the coming winter. My mom doesn’t come hunting with us, but she’s the one who prepares the game when we get back. Even when she’s tired, she always helps out. Her kindness is like no one else’s. I live in a blended family where love and togetherness are the most important things. My mom has always taken my other siblings under her wing as if they were her own, and without her in our lives, I don’t think we would have functioned as well as we do now. She has also taught me that there is always a new day tomorrow. We can’t change what happened yesterday—we can only look forward. My mom is a woman who never gives up. She has taught me to always hold my head high, no matter how bad things get. Like many other Greenlanders, she is caring. That is also why I need to mention her. She is the most important woman in my life.
Light in the Dark
Greenland is one of the most beautiful places in the world, with indescribable natural beauty.
Imagine
A place where the air is so pure A place with dancing northern lights
A place where the sky is filled A place with a silence so profound,
you’ve never seen before you’re completely overwhelmed
sky have
A place with icebergs as big as A place with a calm so deep
buildings
But just as life can be so beautiful, Greenland can also be covered by dark clouds. Several families have experienced tragedies. One of the memories I have dates back to when I was 12 years old. A boy my age whom I knew was out sailing with his family when the accident happened. The boat hit an ice floe, and everyone was thrown overboard. He watched his family drown. He was the only survivor. The local community showed their support by raising money for him, but what he lost that day can never be replaced. This is an example of how harsh life can be. Even though life can be hard and unbearable, the sun still rises. We are a small community with only 56,000 residents, where most people know each other. When things like this happen, it affects the entire community, precisely because there are so few of us. That is why it is important that we stand together. I often think about what he went through, and the reason I’m sharing this is to show that even though we’re surrounded by many good things, life can change in an instant.
Just as a rifle can bring joy to a confirmand, that very same rifle can also cause grief. Greenland, in fact, has one of the highest suicide rates in the world. Everyone, even I, knows someone who has lost their life to suicide. Cemeteries are quickly filling up with young souls. It should never be a way out, because there are always other options. Despite this taboo, I am still proud to be a young Greenlander, because even though life can be harsh, my circle of friends has shown me that life is wonderful. Life is about experiencing things, and without downs there can never be ups. So even though life presents challenges, it’s important to love yourself. We Greenlanders have faced many hardships, but we still stand tall.
We’re so damn cool
We are open and curious We are welcoming
We speak thirty languages We are inclusive
We have a rich culture We stick together
We have learned to adapt to nature and our surroundings. So, dear “guest”—you are most welcome, but let’s meet on equal footing. I’d be happy to take you by the hand and show you the beauty and the shadows of our community as I see them.
Even though some people see us as “stupid Greenlanders,” “drunken Eskimos,” or people who can’t take care of ourselves, we are a proud people with a love and respect unlike any other.
God Save Denmark
and Greenland
This series is published in collaboration with the Youth Bureau
