I was attending a major national conference at the end of my MA year. In the evening, I was standing around chatting with several faculty members from my undergraduate institution. As we spoke, an eminent professor (hereafter Professor Seahorse) at my current institution, with whom I had taken several classes that year, walked behind me and ran his palm across my shoulder blades and down my arm to my elbow. He kept walking, and after a moment of puzzlement I convinced myself that there was nothing to it– after all, he was married, tenured, and several decades my senior. Surely he didn’t intend to be inappropriate.
Several years later, I’m now a PhD student at the same university, sitting with Professor Seahorse in a booth in a pub near campus (his “other office,” as he liked to call it), discussing a term paper that I’m writing for his course. By this point I’ve learned that Professor Seahorse has a reputation for inappropriate behaviour, and sometimes more, with female students. He blatantly objectifies the server to her face, addressing her as a “pouty-lipped love-goddess.” On another occasion where office hours took place in a pub, I was treated to a long account of how drunk he had been at his wedding, and how he had recoiled upon seeing his bride at the altar; she did not usually wear make-up, and her application of it on her wedding day was unskillful. This was an uncomfortable discussion, to say the least. Students should not be party to their professor’s marital dissatisfactions. What does one even say to a story like that?
One afternoon I was sitting with a classmate on the patio of a cafe next to the same pub. Professor Seahorse, who has clearly had a few, emerges from the pub and brazenly looks me up and down. “Oh… helloooo. Looking good. Oh, [classmate’s name], I didn’t even see you there. I was too busy looking at [my name].” Professor Seahorse blatantly checks me out one more time, pays another ‘compliment,’ and finally stumbles off.
Story signed by : Buddug
The story happened to me as a PhD student in the year(s) 2005-2009 around an academic institution in ‘Not in Belgium’