“There was this seminar the other day and I really didn’t get anything, or at least close to nothing. Everyone else seemed to understand, nodding and smiling and laughing, so I did what I always do: mimicked them, feeling stupid on the inside while laughing along on the outside. Some part of me knows this is wrong, but I’ve been doing it for so long it’s too late to admit I don’t quite belong. Otherwise people would realize that I don’t know all these terms they’re using, that I haven’t read all those books they refer to in passing as if everyone had read everything. But above all, I don’t want to expose myself by asking a wrong or stupid question. They would laugh, and even if I could laugh along, my embarrassment might shine through and it would all be over.”
“What would be over?”
“Eh … this! Being part of this world, learning things, having coffee, going for drinks, being at university, you know. I like it here, it’s very different from anything I ever knew, and I’ve made friends. In fact, they are my best friends—we do everything together, from morning to late at night.”
“But look, if you cannot tell them you don’t understand something, are they really your friends? Do they really know you? Aren’t they just a bunch of guys who enjoy having a young woman in their circle?”
“What a mean thing to say! Of course they know me, they know who I am now: one of them. And what’s wrong with being the only girl anyhow? In fact, it makes me feel special, I get a lot of attention. And I’m not some dumb chick, you know! I’m a cool girl, one of the guys, they respect me for that and treat me the same way they treat each other.”
“Seriously: you cannot believe that. You’re like a mascot to them, they think you’re cute. And how can you claim you’re just one of the guys? Did any of them speak up when you filed a complaint against that professor with the sexist translation exercises? Did any of them stand up for you? No, they did not. They are using you as a front figure when they dislike something, you get to be the angry girl who takes the fire and the blame. You will see, that’s how it works.”
“What a bitch you are, just because you can’t remember what it’s like to be young—I bet you’re just jealous, wishing you were in my place. They’ve actually been really supportive.”
“Like when they wrote that poem about your breasts? Or left you alone late at night with that guy trying to seduce you? Look, I don’t doubt their affection for you, but I bet most of them are just as scared as you are of looking stupid or making a mistake. You become an alibi, a kind of reflection of what they don’t have the guts to be.”
“You’re so mean, I never want to speak to you again.”
“That’s fine, we will never have this conversation anyhow. I just hope you won’t get too hurt and give up your integrity, it’s the last thing we can afford to lose.”
“I’ll be fine, if you just get out of my head.”