ABSTRACT
Around a decade ago, I was accused of cannibalising the foundations of Western Civilisation. This was quite a surprise to me. I am a short, plump woman with Mediterranean features. I was 39 years old. I’m exceedingly cheerful. As a professor, I tend towards nurturing and away from judgement. At the time that such super-human powers were first attributed to me, I was the recently divorced mother of a toddler. Following my appointment to a new professorial position, we had just moved to Switzerland. The aspersion took place in a faculty meeting where I had not realised I was under discussion because I had not yet learned German, and nobody thought to switch to English for the occasion. All I could think was, If Western Civilisation needs defence from me, it must surely be on its last legs. Discrimination often appears like this: not as a direct racial or gender slur, but as an attack that is powerful because it is preposterous. The failure to respond reinforces the power of the accuser. Gaslighting is the cheap trick of bullies. That day, I truly felt my vulnerability. And yet that day was not an end so much as a beginning.
