Examples of inappropriate behaviour

‘Do you really have to nitpick every single little thing!?’ that’s what she’d like to say, but she has no idea how to translate it. And besides, she’ll probably trip over that word pietluttig. At the back of the classroom, she hears giggling – oh God – what did she just say!? She can’t think straight anymore. She hates this! Teaching in Dutch! Who’s mimicking her now? Not a day goes by without this childish nonsense. She’s relieved that soon she’ll be teaching a class in English again.
 

‘Can someone help me with this graph?’ she asks during the working group session. Silence. Next to her, there’s a sigh. ‘Her again,’ someone whispers behind her. There’s muffled laughter. She pre-tends not to hear, bends deeper over her laptop. Her fingers are trembling. The lecturer scans the room and simply carries on. Someone else raises their hand and does get an answer – even a compliment. She’s packing her bag even before the class is over. With a knot in her stomach, she walks out of the classroom.
 

He opens the group chat and only now realises he’s missed a load of messages. His stomach turns. Here we go again. He sees a screenshot of his own essay, covered with crying-laughing emojis. ‘Who writes like this?’ ‘AI could do better!’ More emojis. ‘LOL’ … He scrolls back – his question wasn’t that weird, was it!? No one bothered to answer. But they did this. He throws his phone on the bed. Maybe he’ll call in sick tomorrow.

‘Hi Tim, what shall we do tonight? What do you fancy...?’ Every single time he gets a fright when Tamara puts a hand on his shoulder or briefly rubs his thigh. Honestly, he likes her and he’s glad they live together in this student house, but – please – don’t touch me every time, he thinks. Surely she can see that she’s making me uncomfortable? Am I supposed to find this normal? She probably doesn’t mean it like that, or does she?
 

‘Nice top, looks good on you.’ The comment comes from a fellow student who’s in her project group. She mumbles something like thank you and quickly turns back to her laptop. But he pulls his chair closer – ‘just having a look’ – she smells his aftershave, feels his arm against hers. ‘Shall we carry on working together this evening? We could do it at my place.’ How can she say no without coming across as rude!? The others in the group are scrolling through their phones. WTF!?
 

‘You know, you really are a breath of fresh air in this project group,’ he says, while standing by her table just a bit too long. She smiles uncomfortably. Is this just meant kindly? Or is it... something else? ‘You’re doing well, love,’ she hears the same lecturer say the next day in the feedback session. Now the doubt really kicks in. Nobody else gets comments like that.

‘What do you think, Mei-Lan? You, with your background, can surely tell us how they deal with this in China?’ Huh!? No! Why always put so much emphasis on my background!? You wouldn’t ask that of anyone else, would you? I’ve never even been to China, for goodness’ sake! Yes – duh – I was born there, so what!? Ever heard of adoption!? She wants to scream it at him, but she doesn’t. Stammering, she tries to formulate an answer to his question.
 

‘Are we having drinks this week?’ she asks at the coffee machine. Her colleagues respond enthusiasti-cally: ‘Of course, sounds great!’ – but no one texts her about where or when. On Friday afternoon, she sees photos pop up on Instagram. They’re all there, beers in hand. Again! Last week they also spontaneously went for drinks without her knowing about it. She scrolls through the messages in the group chat – nothing. Are there other group chats, perhaps? Without her? What is she doing wrong? She feels utterly discouraged.
 

‘Seriously, you want to take on the technical part?’ Tom looks at her as if she’s joking. ‘That’s some tough programming work, you know.’ ‘I know,’ she says. ‘That’s exactly why I want to do it.’ Silence. Glances are exchanged. ‘Maybe you’d be better off writing the report?’ Lars suggests. ‘You’re good at that.’ She feels irritation rising. Her programming marks are the highest in the group. ‘No, I’m doing the code.’‘Alright, alright, no need to get worked up,’ Tom laughs. ‘We’ll see.’

‘Hey loser, you do know that you’re giving that presentation, don’t you!? Yeah, what!? You don’t think you’re getting away with just knocking together a quick PowerPoint? Seriously, mate!?’ With a loud bang, Jonas slams shut the locker that Frank was just about to get his laptop out of. ‘Making us do the real work while you mess about on that stupid laptop of yours...’ Jonas bangs on the locker door again and roughly shoves Frank against it. ‘You’re doing it, mate! You alone!’ 
 

‘Give it back!’ She grabs for her phone, but he holds it high above his head. ‘Say sorry first!’ The others laugh. She tries again, jumps up. He shoves her aside roughly. She stumbles, her shoulder hits the doorframe. ‘Jesus, don’t be such a drama queen.’ He throws the phone onto the table, the screen cracks. ‘Your own fault, for having moaned so much about that group work.’ Her arm hurts, but she says nothing. Bruises and a broken screen, she is close to tears.
 

‘Jesus, Sara, how difficult is this!?’ Amber throws her pen onto the table. ‘We’ve been sitting here for an hour and you still don’t get it, do you!? Or what!?’ Her voice sounds threatening. ‘Sorry, I was thinking that if we...’ ‘No! Don’t think, just do what I say! This really isn’t going to work like this!’

‘Going home for the Christmas holidays!? Are you out of your mind!? We need to keep going, you know!? Those two weeks are exactly when we’ve scheduled the editing – and that’s your job! The only reason you’re here!’ He’d been over the moon when he found out he could intern at Europe’s biggest film production company. Nine months in Berlin – crazy, man! And now…? ‘You wanted this so badly, didn’t you!? There are ten others who’d jump at the chance!’ Looks like he’ll have to text home again to say he’s not coming after all.
 

‘Without my reference letter, you won’t get anywhere, you know that, right?’ His lecturer scrolls through his phone while talking to him. ‘That master’s programme in Brussels? I know the coordinator personally.’ Suddenly, he looks at him intently. ‘But with those marks of yours… Maybe if you help me first? A bit of painting at my place this weekend.’ He says it casually, as if it’s the most normal thing in the world. ‘Just a couple of hours. Then I’ll write that letter on Monday. Deal?’ His smile feels like a trap.
 

‘I’ll submit the research proposal with me as the main applicant.’ Bart looks up in surprise. ‘But we developed this together?’ he says. ‘I know, but I’ve got the contacts at NWO. You won’t get that grant without me.’ She taps on her laptop. ‘I’ll just add you as co-applicant.’ ‘But it was my idea…’ ‘Do you want the money or not? Because I can do this on my own, you know.’ Her tone stays friendly. ‘Come on, we’re a team, right? I’ll just sort this out.’