When my daughters were in high school, our family hosted two Danish students—Pippa and Matilda—through a short exchange between Macomb High School and Hørsholm Lille Skole, just north of Copenhagen.
The program began twenty-seven years ago with an email exchange between Dr. Pamela Godt of Western Illinois University and her husband’s cousin, Bjørn Godt-Hansen, the school’s principal. Modeled on the Rotary International Youth Exchange, the first Danish students arrived in Macomb in the fall of 1999.
During their stay, the students attended American classes, watched a Friday-night football game, rode a float in the homecoming parade, and visited the Mark Twain caves in Hannibal, Missouri.
The following spring, Macomb students travelled to Denmark. They explored Tivoli Gardens, watched European football, and experienced Danish hygge firsthand—learning what it means to feel at home in a place far from home.
When the Godts retired in 2014—Earl Godt was also a professor at Spoon River College—the parents and community kept the exchange alive. They even managed the hasty return of students during the early days of COVID. Despite its grassroots origins, this exchange has always functioned as a quiet, but meaningful act of diplomacy between two cultures.
Today, however, the games played in Washington are affecting remote places like Forgottonia. The continuation of the program is uncertain, as it suffers collateral damage from decisions made far above our heads.
I confess to being a travel and study abroad junkie, perhaps because I have seen the transformation that occurs when you step into a kitchen other than your own and recognize yourself in a stranger’s kindness. Exchange programs are acts of faith in humanity. They build bridges that statecraft alone cannot manage—nurturing empathy, adaptability, and the courage to see the world from another perspective.
Research confirms what I have witnessed in my own children and students: participants return home with sharper minds, bigger hearts, and skills that strengthen communities economically and culturally.
For Denmark and the United States, such exchanges have long undergirded a friendship rooted in shared democratic ideals and economic partnership. However, changing political winds in Washington towards longtime allies like Denmark have resulted in different attitudes towards the United States.
Mads Weltzer, a Dane and the father of a student who visited Macomb, wrote that these shifts have created a deep sense of betrayal. “The proposal to buy Greenland felt like a direct insult to our culture and the ‘Danish Realm.’ Denmark lost 44 soldiers in the most brutal battles in the Helmand Province [in Afghanistan], the highest casualty rate per capita of any nation. Hearing them being belittled and seeing the U.S. Embassy remove the memorial flags placed by veterans, has left a deep wound. If the program is to survive, it will require extreme caution regarding political stances. For many of us, the American Dream has been destroyed.”
Despite this tension, Macomb students are once again preparing for their journey to Denmark. There are concerns about safety and about the program’s future. I would not hesitate to send my own child abroad—but I understand why a Danish parent, reading our headlines, may not be so willing.
Now is the time when these exchanges matter most. They are fragile threads holding humanity together when our leaders act out of greed. In a world divided, a shared meal or a borrowed winter coat speaks profoundly of connection. Programs like this remind us that international relations are not only written in treaties, but in friendships—and that the surest diplomacy begins at the kitchen table.
(Note: The U.S. Ambassador to Denmark eventually welcomed back the flags. The decision came after a week of intense journalistic pressure, negative headlines, and a protest march in front of the embassy.)
Heather McIlvaine-Newsad is a Professor of Anthropology at Western Illinois University. Her research focuses on collaborative action for sustainability.
The opinions expressed are not necessarily those of the university or TSPR.
Diverse viewpoints are welcomed and encouraged.