The second year of my masters degree I spent at a conservation lab in Denmark. I lived on the premises, the bathroom and my room was separated by the archaeology offices so one time when I was sick I had to walk past my colleagues in my pyjamas to go throw up in the toilet. I was charged rent and utilities, even though I was not paid a single øre for my work. I was given the grimiest or most tedious of tasks to do, such as draining the wet wood tanks of stagnant fetid water and refilling them again, or hauling crates and sacks of PEG crystals, or surveying thousands of virtually identical iron objects until I told them I wouldn't do that project any longer, or cleaning out jars of poisonous 19th century medicine at which point I discovered a plastic carrier bag containing loose mercury, or cleaning lab glassware with alkaline fluid so caustic it would've eaten down to the bone in seconds if it got past my rubber gloves. Again, zero remuneration, but rent was exacted. I relied on a bin bag full or borderline stale but nonetheless free bread from the local baker that arrived every Monday because it meant I could eat. Once I left and moved to Germany and subsequently lost both my jobs in the first lockdown, I was chased up for further rent payments because they 'discovered that I was undercharged' almost causing me to lose the home I was clinging on to for dear life.
All this was done with the justification that I was in academia and in fact I should be grateful for the opportunities 'given' to me. I now have over seventy grand in student debt, the little savings I had were wiped out before I even started making my way in the world, the wages of my first year of employment post university were in effect garnished to settle the rent remittance, and I have not worked a single day in professional conservation and restoration since.
