I felt sick. Everything she said was a lie and even though I wanted nothing to do with her, I knew I had to say something. Even so, I glanced around, hoping that someone else would do the job for me. Sick with nerves, I slowly mounted the steps and a security guard, one of the campus goons, blocked my path. I tried to edge past but he held his ground. ‘Let me through,’ I said, my voice quiet, barely registering above the crowd. ‘It’s my turn.’ I saw the organiser of the rally glance from me to the vice-chancellor, and in that second she gave a shrug, a gesture so dismissive that it enraged me, and I gave the guard a shove and stepped out onto the stage.

Nothing in all my years of lecturing could have prepared me for the sight of such a large crowd, all strangers. When a lone voice called out, ‘Make American studies great again!’, I tried to locate the speaker but it was impossible. Someone handed me the megaphone and I stepped forward. ‘I am Dr Siân Rees and I was a lecturer in the American studies department …’ A cheer went up. ‘I was employed at this university for almost fifteen years, until the morning I came into work to discover a brown envelope in my pigeonhole. Inside was a letter informing me that my department had been disestablished and that I was redundant. This is what the VC means by management for change – a management that lacks honesty, respect and empathy.’

‘Shame, shame, shame!’ went the crowd.

‘When I lost my job, I discovered that I no longer recognised myself – I lost my identity and sense of self. Moreover, in the face of permanent unemployment I’m about to lose my home, a place I love and cherish. But that’s nothing compared with what we, as a society and culture, lose when the arts come under attack. Our collective identity, our cultural memory, the narratives we share must be acknowledged and honoured and we can only achieve that if …’ At that moment I saw the vice-chancellor roll her eyes and glance at her phone and I lost my composure and train of thought, stammering, ‘short-sighted attack … egregious business model …’

The crowd didn’t seem aware of my stumble. ‘We support the arts! Save the humanities!’ and the sound of spontaneous clapping filled the air.