One of the first places I visited during my semester in Copenhagen was not

only a beautiful park, but also a graveyard. Located in the heart of Nørrebro, this

multipurpose space—Assistens Kirkegård—is both a cemetery and a park. While the cemetery still serves its original purpose as a burial ground, it has evolved into a recreational space. For some locals, this is the area where they jog five kilometers every morning; for others, it is a place to meditate. For the busy bikers, this is the scenic street that they whizz down on their way to work in the city; and for the guides facilitating cemetery tours, this space is a source of income.

'We have two options now: dying or dying.'

This was a text message that Salahaldin (Salah) Eleyan received from his brother from Northern Gaza, Palestine.

On the evening of an otherwise warm and comfortable June day in 2011, Copenhagen, Denmark, experienced a rare but intense natural disaster that would forever change its approach to climate resilience.

While much of the world uses the energy crisis as an excuse to invest more in fossil fuels, the small country of Denmark has taken an alternative route. Through direct government action and promoting the adoption of renewable energy, Denmark is accelerating the achievement of its climate goals while breaking its dependence on Russian fossil fuel supplies.

Ahmed Ibrahim, a 24-year-old man from northern Syria, arrived in Denmark in August of 2017 during the Syrian Civil War. His experience as a refugee, his perseverance, and his willingness to tell his story are true signs of resilience.

In her first article for our Weaving the Streets series, Janeil Speid reports on the complicated history and current reality of immigration in Denmark, where the country’s liberal image sits uneasily with a reality of hostility toward some of the country’s newest immigrants.