Men of the TU Delft, come make your voices heard on the problem of femicide and violence against women. Feel overwhelmed or powerless? That’s okay, but don’t be discouraged! There’s things you can do, and we’re asking you to do them. Yes – even if that means being emotionally vulnerable.

This Thursday, there’s a currents events lunch happening at 12:45 – 13:30 in the Library’s Orange Room. And we want you there.

A Current Event?

Putting the call to action for the men aside – it makes sense that a Studium Generale at a Dutch university would organise a discussion on femicide. It is our job to invite you to reflect on current events. But is femicide even a current event? In the Netherlands, a woman is murdered every eight days. You could argue that it is not the murders that took place this summer that make it a current event, but the protests that followed.

In my view, to call violence against women a “current event” actually misrepresents the nature of the problem. It is a part of the fabric of our society. In this article, I want to lay some groundwork for the conversation this Thursday. What is the problem, exactly? Why is it so hard to address? And above all: why do I think this conversation happening on Thursday is going to be so important?

Before we get into it, let’s have a look at some definitions.

• Femicide: murder of women.
• Gender-based violence: violence directed against a person because of that person’s gender or violence that affects persons of a particular gender disproportionately.
• Sexual violence: any sexual act, attempt to obtain a sexual act, or other act directed against a person’s sexuality using coercion.

Not Just Stranger Danger

Sexual violence is incredibly common. Nearly three-quarters (73%) of all Dutch women have been sexually harassed at some point in their lives. For only 19% of female victims of sexual violence, the perpetrator is unknown. We know that this isn’t just about “stranger danger” or staying safe at night. Similarly, in 56% of cases of femicide, the perpetrator is the woman’s (ex-)partner. I would go as far to say that the threat of (sexual) violence is embedded in the female experience.

Protests and Politicians

The protests and the varying responses from our politicians show the complex interplay between violence against women, questions of (Dutch) identity, women’s rights to safety and freedom, and harmful cultural conceptions of masculinity. Just look at the wide spread of solutions being championed. GroenLinks politician Mariëlle Vavier called for men to take responsibility and hold each other accountable for harmful behaviour. On the other side of the political spectrum, there are calls to increase police surveillance and curb immigration. The conversation is happening online and on our streets, ranging from marches and riots to Facebook Groups.

I’m laying this out so that we can realise how complex and pervasive the problem is. The politicisation of the issue brings attention, yes, but it also muddies the waters when it comes to causes and potential solutions. I’ll give an example. It struck me that the influence of substance abuse on intimate violence has not been a substantial part of the public discussion – except perhaps to victim blame. In 31 percent of instances of sexual violence against women, alcohol or drugs were involved. This may be cynical of me, but I can’t help thinking that with elections coming up, asking men to practice moderation is not a sexy campaign slogan. Nor is investing in addiction care – unfortunately.

So, uh, Why Am I Asking TU Men to Come Have This Conversation?

Our colleagues at the University of Utrecht came at this topic from the angle of how women can adapt and claim more space. After talking to their moderator, one of their programme makers wondered why they were focusing on women. Well, in Delft, we want to focus on men.

TU Delft has a gender ratio of 68% male to 32% female. Our students go out, form friendship groups, and shape who they are through new experiences and relationships. What better place to talk about male culture and behaviour? And no, we’re not planning to put all the weight of this terrible problem on your shoulders. We invited Hessel from Emancipator to talk with you about what it is like to navigate the world as a man, as a student, and in all the different roles you occupy as you go through life. Do you see opportunities to create a positive impact? Are there ways you can support others, and receive support? It’s going to be an exploration. With sandwiches. We hope to see you there.

We’ve all seen it: in a group, a few voices dominate, others fall silent, and some struggle to break through. Maybe you’re an introvert, like me? Personality plays a role — but so do identity, power, and context. What does it take for you to speak up and be heard?

Tomorrow at the TUD Library we’ll be asking: how do we express ourselves in public? Because what happens in small groups also plays out at the scale of society. We all want to be heard, seen, and included. But who gets space in public — both among peers and among opponents — is deeply political. And the spaces where we speak, online or in person, shape what is possible to say, and to whom.

Here’s the hard truth: expressing yourself is risky. You make yourself vulnerable to disagreement, criticism, even censorship or oppression. But speech can also be risky for others: words can wound, incite, or escalate into violence. The violent protest in The Hague last weekend is a stark reminder of what happens when emotions overwhelm reason: fear grows, society feels less safe, and democracy itself weakens.

So I keep circling back to three questions:

1. Can democracy survive if only the loudest shouters claim the space?
2. Is a society where every voice is heard equally always better?
3. Are there opinions that we shouldn’t tolerate to begin with?

My instinct is yes: in theory, there should be room for everyone’s opinion. Pro-Palestine demonstrators should be allowed to speak, as should pro-Israel voices. Anti-immigration groups must be free to gather, and Antifa must be free to counter them — peacefully. That’s democracy.

But making space for all voices without letting violence dominate or silence take over requires more than just tolerance. It demands effort, empathy, emotional maturity — even intentional design of our public spaces. This is true for our streets, our social media (and the companies behind them), and even a place like a university campus. Looking at Karl Popper, the philosopher, the paradox of tolerating the intolerant is one that should be at the forefront of our minds in this age.

Perfect equity and perfect safety may be impossible. But democracy depends on our willingness to keep trying — to create spaces where as many as possible can speak, and still be heard.

Join us tomorrow to reflect on how we can shape that fragile, necessary balance.

12:45pm | Existential Tuesday: How do you claim space? 
5:00pm | Is the campus designed for protest?

Before the summer, a tent camp appeared between the Library and the Aula. I heard colleagues (not from Studium Generale) sigh that the campus is not an “action camp.”

After all, a university is supposed to be a place for education and research, not political struggle. But is that really true? To begin with: research is often politically charged. The recent decisions by universities to suspend collaboration with Israeli institutions show that policy increasingly reflects this. One might wonder whether it would have happened at all without the student protests.

But beyond the question of neutrality or complicity, the tent camps reveal something deeper. Protest is about presence. People come together, sleep in tents, sing, and in doing so, show that behind the neutral description of the university as a “place for education and research,” real people are at work. People connected to the world around them, drawing strength from that connection to speak against perceived injustice—but who are also profoundly vulnerable. We are dependent beings: on care, institutions, and solidarity.

That vulnerability is visible in demonstrations and camps, which often generate friction and sometimes provoke aggression. The protesting (and vulnerable) body in public space is experienced as a disruption, sometimes even as a threat. In Delft, the tensions remained relatively contained (thanks to all the involved parties!), but in Amsterdam, in May, the riot police (ME) acted forcefully against students on the UvA campus (and according to many official sources, disproportionate: read and hear (in Dutch) the reconstruction of The investigative journalists of VPRO Argos https://argos.vpro.nl/artikelen/barricades-op-de-campus-een-reconstructie-van-de-studentenprotesten). Why does protest provoke such anger? This is a pressing question in a time of public political violence.

As the philosopher Judith Butler reminds us, the vulnerable body in public space challenges our illusion of omnipotence. It also connects to bodies elsewhere that are far more exposed, piercing the reassuring neutrality of words like “education and research,” which often hide institutional power. It makes us feel naked, exposed. By making vulnerability visible, protest teaches us something fundamental about public space: it is not empty or neutral, but a space where people connect, affect one another, and take responsibility for shared vulnerabilities.

This is not a carte blanche to set up a tent camp anywhere. Safety remains a core value, and universities must navigate how protest and security coexist. Yet a protest on the campus can be a living experiment, a lesson in citizenship, even a form of education. Not a lecture hall, but a square. Not a curriculum, but a community forming in situ, with all the friction that entails. Discomfort is not the enemy of the university. On the contrary, it reminds us that public space is something we must learn to inhabit—to practice being together, listening, and taking responsibility.

It is precisely in protest, in that physical presence and visible vulnerability, that the heart of the university project may lie: learning to navigate our own dependence and fragility, and that of others. Beyond all political content (that’s not what this piece is about), the tent camps remind us that knowledge and power are never separate from the bodies that carry them. By acknowledging vulnerability, we learn what it truly means to inhabit public space and to live together in a shared, contingent world.

Across the world, women are taking to the streets under the banner of Reclaim the Night, protesting the fact that they cannot move safely through public space after dark. Their message is clear: violence, exclusion, and fear are not abstract—they are embedded in how spaces are designed, regulated, and inhabited.

This Autumn’s series of events takes that urgency as a starting point and asks a broader question: how does design—of streets, campuses, digital platforms, or lecture halls—shape who belongs and who does not?

When we meet others—whether a close friend, a potential employer, or a stranger—we meet in a space. It may be physical or virtual, but it always requires a place. And the way these spaces are designed—where they are, for whom they are accessible—determines who is automatically included, and who remains outside.

Awareness begins with noticing who is not automatically included. From there, we can build a willingness to make space for others. SG invites designers, philosophers, activists, and students to explore how we might design for difference: for neurodiversity, for inequality, for unheard voices.

(Re)Claiming Space is an invitation. To think along. To sketch along. To ask a stranger: what kind of space is as inviting to you as it is to me?

But there is also tension in designing inclusively. Can a space embody an ideal? And what happens when we try to force an ideal into a space? When we use spaces to speak out, resist and make ourselves seen? A sidewalk, a lecture hall, a highway – these become political spaces when they are claimed, inhabited, or disrupted. When presence turns into protest.

In this series, we explore how political spaces come into being: why they matter, how they are designed, and how they might be redesigned. Because a political space is never simply given—it must be created, shared, and sometimes fought for. With language and speech, with bodies, and with objects.

What happens when a campus is not just a place to study, but also a space to protest? Where are its limits—and how do we discover them? It’s not only about whether space is granted, but also about what it looks like, and for whom. Who is welcomed, and who remains unseen?

Together, we will trace how such spaces are shaped—both literally and figuratively. Through design, through language, through objects, platforms, and symbols.

Explore SG’s related events this quarter on the theme: (Re)Claiming Space

How does design—of streets, campuses, digital platforms, or lecture halls—shape who belongs and who does not? And what happens when we use these spaces to speak out, resist and make ourselves seen? When presence turns into protest, these spaces become political.

In this series, we explore how political spaces come into being: why they matter, how they are designed, and how they might be redesigned. SG invites designers, philosophers, activists, and students to explore how we might design for difference.

9 September 12:45 | Existential Tuesday: Is everything political for Gen Z? @ TUD Library, The Nook
23 September 17:00 | Is a campus designed for protest? @ TUD Library Hall
1 October 12:45 | Current Affairs Lunch Lecture: Male Violence Against Women @ TUD Library, Orange Room
8 October 16:00 | Driving societal change through inclusive STEM research processes and outcomes @ TUD Library Hall
13 October 19:00 | Critical Mass: Woke Design @ Theater de Veste
15 October 16:00 | ‘Flying Solo’ Opening Reception @ TUD Library Hall
13 November 12:45 | Kiting Huddle: Write for the Wind @ TUD Library, The Nook & the Greenroof
4 December ttba | Non-humans and public space @ TUD Library Hall

If you’re new in Delft, you might be a little bit overwhelmed by all the different groups and events that you can join. Here’s an overview to help you find your way around Studium Generale and the groups we sponsor, because we too have a lot to choose from. All of it will drastically enrich your life, but we understand if you can’t make it to everything. Choose wisely 😛

Many of our events take place in the TU Delft Library (in the main hall or in the Nook) and in Theater de Veste, downtown.

Note: the events listed below are some of our recurring events. But we also dedicate each academic quarter to a different theme, with additional events like workshops, exhibitions, lunch lectures, and so on. Find out how to follow us at the bottom of this page.

RUN BY STUDENTS – POWERED BY STUDIUM GENERALE

💬🤓 VOX Delft: run by students and PhD’s, we host small weekly discussion groups in the Library on a wide range of topics in society, politics, philosophy. There are no dumb questions. No perspectives that can’t be entertained, at least as a thought experiment. And there’s no membership either; you just join on the nights that interest you. Join the SG WhatsApp community for more info

📚📖 VOX Book Club: run by students, we read and discuss one book every quarter. Join the SG WhatsApp community for more info

🎥🎞️ VOX Film Club: run by students, we watch a movie every week in the Library. Join the SG WhatsApp community for more info

🎓🎤 TUD Debating Club: run by students, we host weekly practice debate sessions in the Library. Learn formal debate styles and techniques and visit tournaments in other cities. Become a member for a low fee for either six or twelve months. Join the SG WhatsApp community for more info

🎨👩‍🎨 Hesiodos: run by students and PhD’s, we curate a yearly magazine with different forms of visual and textual art by students, staff, and alumni. And we also come together for low key workshops on campus or in a pub. Join the SG WhatsApp community for more info

🌱💚 Students4Sustainability: run by students, we fund projects abroad and organize lectures, a symposium, and a festival on sustainability.

RUN BY STUDIUM GENERALE

💬🦜 Existential Tuesdays: every Tuesday in the Library, during the lunch break, we delve into a different existential topic. Tea, snacks, and the ultimate questions in life. Join the SG WhatsApp community for more info

📝✍️ Writing Huddle: twice every quarter we come together in the Library to try out different writing styles, prompts, and other skills. Join the SG WhatsApp community for more info

🕵️‍♀️🎭 Critical Mass: in-depth, interactive evenings hosted by SG in the theater downtown, we analyze, co-create, watch performances and listen to short presentations on big societal topics.

🥲📚 Filosofie en literatuur: gesprekken met filosofen in Theater de Veste, gehost door hoofd van Studium Generale Leon Heuts. Thema dit jaar: filosofie en crisis.

👩‍🔬🔬 Van Leeuwenhoeklezingen: Delftse wetenschappers, ingenieurs, ontwerpers en architecten geven elk kwartaal een publiekslezing in Theater de Veste

⚠️🎓 University in Times of Crisis: these events give a platform for discussion and debate on the role and responsibilities of the university in complex times

YouTube: check out some of our playlists

It’s a lot, we know! And there’s always more! To find out what’s coming up, keep an eye on our website, newsletter, Instagram, or WhatsApp.

Why do Japanese hotels have backdoors through garages instead of a main entrance? What do public spaces and the way they are designed say about the city they’re in? And why is it important to have well-lit parks at night with trimmed hedges? The material world and the way it is designed tells a lot about ourselves. The hardcopy society isn’t a collection of random objects; read between the lines and you will learn about a people, a culture or a country.

If we look at our material world, can we say who we designed it for? Public space is a good yardstick to measure the status of a society. Who is a space for, who is invited to use it and who is excluded? Are differences tolerated? Can we put borders around spaces? Or countries? When do we leave the realm of public?

In this global society, differences are inevitable. But do we design it for all? And if not, can we do so? Coming Autumn, we’ll investigate the role of objects and more specifically of public space. Can we create spaces where all earth-dwellers feel welcome?
In Q2-3 we’re investigating digital space, who it is created for and how we make use of it. And in our Spring programme we will focus on our inner space: the brain. Is society fit for neurodivergence?

We will be on Summer break for a bit. But check out our first events after Summer. 
We wish you a relaxing holiday for now. See you in the new Academic year. 

For the last four years, SG has helped organize events on campus to mark, celebrate, and learn about Keti Koti. Keti Koti, on July 1^st, commemorates the end of slavery in Dutch Suriname in 1873. With the 150^th anniversary in 2023, and a formal apology from the king, a lot of attention was paid to our colonial history, with a promise to continue working on healing the wounds and improving the lives of descendants of enslaved people in the Netherlands and abroad.

Lots of promises were made. But there is no Keti Koti event on campus this year. Why not?

The sad truth is that we lost a great partner and the driving force behind these events. The Surinamese students’ association SUBEST Delft had to close shop in 2024. The search for new board members proved to be too big of a challenge.

So why is there no more association for Surinamese students in Delft? The number of Surinamese students coming into the country keeps increasing. And, post pandemic, the problem of finding new board members is common to many if not all student associations. But SUBEST faced extra challenges that you will be surprised and perhaps even shocked to learn about.

Here are a few of these challenges.

Despite the strong ties with the Netherlands, and a common language, Surinamese students still need to arrange for a passport, visa, residence permit, health insurance, bank, etc. They face a ton of bureaucratic admin. They face high housing fees and living costs, all to be paid in Euros against a weak Surinamese dollar. That said, they do pay the same amount of tuition as the Dutch students. But that’s where the similarities end. Because unlike Dutch students, Surinamese students must provide proof of a minimum amount of personal financing per year; you need to be able to indicate that you have enough money upfront to support yourself and your studies. In other words, you or your parents must be rich if you want to be allowed to study here.

Supplementing their personal finances with a job in the Netherlands is an obstacle, as Surinamese students (like all non-EU students) are only allowed to work a limited number of hours in the Netherlands (16 hours per week). Of course they could work more, but they won’t get paid more. Surinamese students have no access to student financing and limited access to scholarships. They will face major culture shock, and often psychological difficulties as a result. After a study in the Netherlands, there are limited options for (continued) study or for jobs in Suriname. Jobs that are sorely needed after a very expensive time in the Netherlands.

All in all, these hurdles make it not only difficult for Surinamese students to come to Delft, but to find the time and energy to join and support an association like SUBEST. Life is simply too busy and there are too many demands. Under these circumstances, how can we expect Surinamese students to support each other?

The last board was comprised of students who kept putting their heart and soul into it for multiple years. Not for the usual Delft board year, but for years, plural. And Keti Koti was a moment where they could open their doors to the wider TU Delft community. In the words of Prijanti Moensi, former President of SUBEST Delft:

“For me, Keti Koti on campus was more than just remembering history. It was about sharing our culture, our stories, and our food. We cooked heri heri, a traditional Surinamese dish made with cassava, sweet potato, plantain, salted fish and an egg. Seeing everyone enjoy it made it feel like home again, even if just for a moment. I really miss that feeling this year.”

None of this is to say that life for non-Surinamese students is always easier. But if we want this university and this society to be open, equitable, and inclusive, these obstacles should give us pause. How does the end of SUBEST Delft reflect on our university and our country? Hopefully, there will be better circumstances in the future, so that Surinamese students in Delft can keep working on important cultural and social events.

Other Keti Koti events:

Okay, so there’s no Keti Koti event on campus this year. But if you’re looking to visit other Keti Koti events in the Delft area, there’s one co-organized with the Gemeente at the Theater de Veste on Monday, June 30^th (in Dutch). Or you can take a look at some of the recordings we made of previous SG events (2022, 2023).

And if you want to look ahead at an event on campus, mark the 25^th of November in your calendars, because we’re working on plans to observe 50 years of Surinamese independence with a historical look at the role of engineers in Suriname.

• Klaas P van der Tempel, program maker at Studium Generale TU Delft

While the declamatory voice of Vincent Cellucci — poet, writer, and curator of the TU Library — echoes through the theatre café of Theater De Veste, I see visitors lifting their legs, dancing, or waddling like penguins. They are dancing on a poem, generated by themselves in interaction with AI. Next to him stands the gigantic tripod: a towering structure composed of 800 rings, where, alongside artworks, large language models are being trained to use more inclusive language — informed by feminist and ecological theories and indigenous philosophy.

This is a scene from the For Love of the World festival — the annual event organized by Studium Generale and Theater De Veste. On the 29^th of March, hundreds of visitors filled every corner of the theatre.

For Love of the World is a festival that refuses to accept the status quo — a world dominated by power, control, exclusion, capital, and war. Can we use technology, art, and philosophy to offer a hopeful, inclusive, and just perspective in which all earth-dwellers — human and non-human — can feel at home?

There were remarkable speakers, such as Shivant Jhagroe, who, in light of the climate crisis, advocates for more radical changes than electric cars or solar panels — which, according to him, serve more as status symbols than as real contributions to a fair and sustainable planet. Or John Bosco Conama, Director of the Centre for Deaf Studies and keynote speaker, who spoke about patterns of linguistic hegemony and linguistic imperialism that marginalize Irish Sign Language.

But perhaps most remarkable were the dozens of students who voluntarily showed up a day early to saw, hammer, and build a range of installations. Students from various student associations (Argus, Vox, Hesiodos, Debating, Kaleidos) — or those who simply wandered in to lend a hand. On the day it self they participated in poetry, writing and so much more.

No one can convince me that Gen Z is cynical or inward-looking. The world concerns us all, and even small actions can eventually have a great impact. Even in dark times. Do not go gentle into that good night.

Photos © De Schaapjesfabriek

What is the power of language in the lead-up to war? How has warfare changed in the age of AI? And can we look to the future with hope, engaging in dialogue with one another? Throughout the spring of 2025, Studium Generale events were mainly centered around War & Entropy and Language & Power. And even beyond those two themes, we organized interactive programs with surprising perspectives and meaningful encounters. Today, we are looking back on a series of wonderful programs where science, art, and society met. From lectures to lunch talks, debates, films, and workshops.

A selection of our programming

Course: Philosophy and Literature
Over the course of two evenings, we explored classical thinkers and canonical texts from literary history, and how we can apply them in today’s society. How can we interpret and use Kafka, Coetzee, or Dostoevsky in these uncertain times? These were well-attended evenings in Theater de Veste. YouTube playlist.

Critical Mass Sessions
During these experimental sessions, we interacted with the audience on a range of topics. We explored how to overthrow capitalism, what we can do about the housing crisis, and which stories we need to tell for a fairer society. The final session of the season focused on depolarization and hope. What do dissonant notes have to do with harmony, and how can we apply that principle to conversations and debates about socially challenging topics? In the last Critical Mass session, we worked together in an anti-debate—a conversation technique where dissonant voices are not silenced, but the power of listening and the silent majority were given space. YouTube playlist.

For Love of the World Festival
For Love of the World is a one-of-a-kind festival organized by Studium Generale with and at Theater de Veste, combining philosophy, art, and technology to create new narratives. In this second edition, we explored power structures through language. We welcomed hundreds of students, TU staff, and residents of Delft. We learned how to create a fantasy language, carried out tasks given by AI, and heard how language can be used to spotlight new perspectives and unheard stories. The after movie and announcement of the third edition (2026) will be released soon.

Existential Tuesdays
Each week we challenged students and staff to reflect on life’s big questions. Topics included: Has Darwin been defeated?, What is language?, How do you become wise?, Why does eye contact get weird?

Writing Workshops
SG’s writing group for all levels. We offered a space for students, staff, and people outside the university to develop their skills and receive support and encouragement in their writing endeavors.

Van Leeuwenhoek Lectures
This lecture series fosters the relationship between the residents of Delft and the TU by offering lectures for everyone who wants to learn more about technology and the university. YouTube playlist.

SG meets Lumen
Filmhuis Lumen and Studium Generale joined forces and organized a new monthly collaboration – showcasing the best and freshest voices from cinema.

Powered By Clubs

Hesiodos
Hesiodos is the creative magazine of TU Delft, founded in 2018 by students and staff in collaboration with SG. On June 14th, the 7th Edition of the magazine was launched at Kunsthuis DEIK Delft. This magazine will soon be available at the Faculties and the TU Delft Library.

VOX
VOX Discussion Nights & Events organized a full program with thought-provoking conversations and film screenings, centered around critical reflection.

TU Delft Debating Club
TUD Debating Club hosted a public show debate where two sides argued for and against a motion chosen by the audience via poll.

Students4Sustainability
The Students4Sustainability Foundation (S4S) is a student organization aiming to encourage Delft students to apply innovative technology for a more sustainable world. During the symposium “Code Green: Where Smart Meets Sustainable”, three speakers from different backgrounds in industry, academia, and policy-making offered valuable perspectives on the future of AI and sustainability.

Studium Generale is proud to co-host Lean In, new one-day experimental installation by Els Spanjers, a TU Delft student of the Master Design for Interaction. This article by Els lets you imaginatively step into the installation experience before the event on the 11th of June.

I’m walking around campus with a friend – the usual wandering around during our coffee breaks, nothing special. We are chatting about something light, maybe complaining about deadlines. We pass by the strange hallway bridge to the aula and see this curious-looking installation in there: a soft, semi-transparent curtain enclosing something inside. It’s quiet but inviting. A small sign said it was meant for two people — two friends. We look at each other and, without really thinking too much, decide to try it.

As I walk into the semi-transparent curtain, I feel like I’m stepping into a different space — a quiet, soft bubble in the middle of campus. My friend is with me, and we both put on our headphones. The ambient sounds in the background make everything around me fade slightly, like I’ve pressed pause on the rest of the world. A calm voice begins to guide us.

We stand on opposite sides of a coloured curtain. It feels firm, padded — there’s resistance, like it holds something back. We are invited to slide our arms through the sleeves and meet in a hug. We embrace through the fabric. The audio guide gently asks us what we feel. Can I sense their heartbeat? Their breathing? The voice asks us to close our eyes. Can we feel it better now? I close my eyes. It’s strange — but tender.

Then we move on to the second curtain. This one is softer, more flexible and lighter. When I reach through, it feels like we’re closer. There’s a warmth in the fabric and in the gesture. Again, we’re invited to notice. To slow down. Same questions, same calm pace. I start to feel a quiet presence — not just of my friend, but of myself in relation to them.

Finally, we step to the last stage. There’s no fabric between us now. We embrace directly as we are invited to do. Still the guide asks us gently: What does this feel like? Is it any different? Again we close our eyes and try and sense their heartbeat and breathing pattern.

The hug lasts longer than usual. I don’t think about whether it is strange or how long we’d been standing there. . . I just listen. And feel.

When the sound slowly fades, I am not thinking of our deadlines anymore. I know the experience is ending — but I also feel like something small, and meaningful, has shifted.

We let go slowly and take a breath before pulling our headphones off. Then we step out of the semi-transparent curtain, and with that, out of our bubble and back into the strange hallway. In the faculty some people walk by, life carries on like before. But we look at each other a bit differently. As if we’d shared something small, but meaningful. Something that didn’t need many words.

Feeling curious? Grab a friend (literally) to experience this exploration of platonic physical intimacy on the 11th of June.