So last Spring – during the otherwise grim first weeks of lockdown – I was thrilled when Ruth Jackson from Bluebell asked me to work on the charity’s 10th anniversary impact report. She wanted it to be celebratory, informative, emotive – and gorgeous to look at.
I like to think the final result ticks all of Ruth’s boxes. In 10 Years of Bluebell, we’ve shared Bluebell’s achievements, aspirations and powerful stories from families they’ve supported. And – I love this touch! – the center spread is a vibrant pull-out poster with Bluebell-themed colouring pages on the reverse.
Writing and project managing 10 Years of Bluebell was a gift during such a difficult year. I loved feeling like part of the Bluebell team – and I learned so much. But was my biggest takeaway was discovering that…
…illustrations are liberating!
I love a good photo (and Bluebell has some wonderful pics from Bristol-based photographer Alice Hendy). But if your charity hasn’t been able to invest in photography and you’re scrabbling around on your hard drive for that half decent jpeg someone sent you from a sponsored walk six years ago…well, making your brochure look good can be a bit of a nightmare.
So how freeing it is to work with an illustrator!
If we didn’t have photos of this or that Bluebell service, it didn’t matter: the brilliant Esther Curtis could conjure them up with a wave of her pencil. (Esther, I realise there was far more to it than that, but to me it seemed like magic.)
When one of our storytellers, Ella, wanted to stay anonymous for professional reasons, Esther used a photograph of Ella and her baby to depict them in illustrated form. So Ella could open the brochure and recognise herself and her son, but no one else would. That meant that despite her anonymity, Ella really felt part of 10 Years of Bluebell.
You can find a selection of spreads from 10 Years of Bluebell below. I hope you’ll agree that Esther captured Bluebell beautifully and sensitively. And crucially, her illustrations are aspirational: they reflect the more inclusive charity Bluebell wants to become.
After a bit of a hiatus (blame a certain global pandemic), I’m excited to share the second story in my series about women leading charities.
Dienka Hines is the executive director at Travelling Light, a Bristol charity making brilliant children’s theatre. Here Dienka shares how she got there, the presenteeism/parenting dilemma and some absolutely sterling advice for aspiring leaders.
(I talked to Dienka in those relatively carefree days before coronavirus, so most of this post is based on that conversation. We caught up again recently to talk about leadership during lockdown.)
I’m waiting for Dienka at Travelling Light HQ in Barton Hill, Bristol. The office I’m sitting in is small and orderly, with shelves of box files lining the walls. On the spine of each box is the name of a show: Igloo, Boing!, Cinderella, Into the West. I imagine myself opening a file – The Ugly Duckling perhaps – and the show springing out in all its fantastical, feathery glory.
But enough whimsy! Those box files contain paperwork, not puppets, and that’s apt because today I’m meeting the person who deals with the business of theatre, rather than the art. (The latter is the responsibility of Dienka’s co-director, Heidi Vaughan – her story will be next in this series).
Dienka rushes in, full of apologies for keeping me waiting. I’m still confused about the job split so I ask about it early on.
“Heidi is the artistic director and I’m the executive director,” Dienka explains. “So basically Heidi does the art and I do the business, but we jointly lead the organisation.”
Travelling Light aims to bring outstanding theatre to children and young people from all backgrounds.
“It was set up in the mid eighties by two teachers who wanted to bring more high-quality theatre into schools, so they literally created touring shows with the sets strapped to the top of their car,” says Dienka. “Going out to where children and young people are is still very much at the heart of what we do. We make shows that work in a range of spaces like schools, community halls and libraries – not just theatre venues.”
Escapism and elitism in the theatre world
Dienka’s connection with Travelling Light goes back way back to the early nineties, when the company performed at her Bristol secondary school. Back then, Dienka was “quite a booky child – the smart one who didn’t have the cool clothes.” Aged 13, she joined the youth theatre at Bristol Old Vic where she enjoyed acting – at first.
“I liked the escapism of theatre, of being someone else,” says Dienka. “I wasn’t very confident so it gave me a different kind of confidence, because you could say and do things as a character that you’d never say or do as yourself.”
But by 16, Dienka was more likely to be found volunteering with the younger children in the group than performing herself. She had always felt welcome at the Bristol Old Vic youth theatre, but the elitism that can be found in the theatre world had put her off wanting to become a performer. And then this: “I’d already decided I wasn’t interesting in acting, but when I did drama A Level, my teacher told me I should think really hard about trying to be an actress because it would be more difficult for me because I was black.”
There was some “strange racist stuff” at the University of Sussex, where Dienka read English and Philosophy. Her friend Anu was repeatedly rejected at auditions. “We’re not making a play about an Indian girl from New York, therefore you don’t get the part,” was the not-so-subtle message from the drama society.
“So Anu produced her own plays and got actors of colour from across the university to perform in them,” Dienka recalls. “She even quoted the drama society people in the programme. It was brilliant! I was really inspired by that.”
Does Dienka think things are any better for performers of colour now?
“I think there are some better attitudes about casting diverse actors than there were,” she says. “In some ways things are changing, but the arts sector – and the charity sector – is still not very diverse, particularly at leadership level.”
Breaking into arts management
It’s appropriate then that Dienka’s own path to leadership began when she joined Fast Track, a programme run by the Independent Theatre Council that supported black and Asian people into arts management.
Dienka had gained lots of arts experience after graduating, including working with Bristol Old Vic and Show of Strength and getting a Masters degree in Applied Theatre at Manchester University. Then, through Fast Track, Dienka went to the Barbican Theatre in Plymouth for a three-month placement. She stayed for three years, helping socially excluded young people engage in the arts and bringing disparate communities together through theatre.
“That was a really lovely project,” says Dienka. “It was really inspiring working with young people who were so passionate about changing the world.”
Going corporate: grey suits, red tape, valuable learning
Next – a bit of a career curveball. Dienka returned to Bristol and, with low expectations, applied for the role of Culture Education Manager at Swindon Borough Council. To her great surprise, she got it.
“It was so different,” says Dienka. “A lot more corporate, a lot more structured. At senior leadership level there were a lot of men in grey suits.”
People almost mistook her for the work experience girl. “I got a lot of, ‘Oh, you’re young!’ I had to deal with a lot of pre-conceived expectations and I definitely had to work harder to prove myself.”
Dienka’s job was to develop education programmes in cultural venues, which involved building a team and partnerships from scratch. She learned a lot – fast – about recruitment, people management, navigating red tape and, because there was little budget, fundraising. “If I wanted something to happen, I had to make the money happen.”
The first year was tough. “But when you have a hard experience, I think it’s the making of you – if you can take the learning from it.”
Swindon Council clearly spotted Dienka’s potential because in 2012 it sent her on a one-week CLORE course for emerging leaders. “There was lots about people management, advocacy, tools you need for leadership and your own self-awareness,” says Dienka. “It was really valuable.”
After three years in Swindon, Dienka joined Creative and Cultural Skills. Her job was to promote and develop apprenticeships within the cultural sector across Wales. It was another corporate environment, with lots of conferences and presenting. Thinking back to the girl who enjoyed being someone else on stage, how does Dienka feel about public speaking – as herself?
“I don’t mind public speaking because I can prepare – I’m in control of my narrative,” she says. That makes sense – she still has a script of sorts. “I’m much more confident in that situation than, say, at those warm wine networking events when everyone’s looking over everyone’s shoulders.”
Back to the theatre
Dienka joined Travelling Light as General Manager in 2014. At that time there was no administrator, so she took on a lot of the day-to-day running of the charity as well as the higher-level strategy work. She sees this as positive: she learned “all the nuts and bolts” of how the organisation was run.
Her current role as Executive Director covers business planning, governance, organisational development, line management and lots of fundraising. The latter is crucial in the rapidly changing funding environment – young people need escapist, inspirational theatre more than ever but it’s increasingly hard to find the money to give it to them.
Dienka explains that co-leading Travelling Light with Heidi is unique to the arts. “It’s important to have an artist at the head of an organisation who has the vision and you’re there to support the vision to happen. There’s safety in it too – it’s nice to have somebody to talk to because you can be quite isolated at the top.”
Leadership, parenting and changing the rules of the game
Dienka had her daughter in 2016. When she returned from maternity leave and started working four days a week, her professional confidence plummeted. She felt less qualified because she had taken time out and, now working part time, she was worried about being perceived as less committed.
Eventually she made a conscious effort to recognise the skills and experience she’d gained as a result of that so-called time off, rather than thinking ‘I’m less of a leader because I’ve had a child.’ “Women aren’t really encouraged to do that very much,” she adds.
The arts environment is hard on parents, Dienka thinks. “There’s a lot of presenteeism. You need to be seen – and you need to be seen out at night. So even though I’m doing a lot of high-level stuff, I’m not seen as much as someone in my role should be and that’s impacted on my career.”
Relationship building doesn’t have to happen exclusively over drinks and after dark. Dienka finds other ways to reach out – for example, she’ll invite people to Travelling Light during the day, which is much better than “trying to grab them for 10 minutes at a press night”.
But it seems there’s no escaping some backlash. “Some sector colleagues would say that you can’t be an Executive Director and go and pick your child up at 4.30. That’s not how the world works.”
Aaaagh. I assume it’s men that spout such rubbish and am disappointed to learn that women are just as culpable. Dienka explains: “There’s a prevailing view that that’s how the game is played, and if you want to be in the game, you have to play the game. So that’s what I’ve struggled with most since coming back to work.”
The good news is many of Dienka’s Travelling Light colleagues have families. “So there’s lots of understanding within the team, even if there’s not so much understanding out there.”
Boundaries, balance and tracky bottoms
There were times when Dienka wondered if working in such a challenging sector was right for her. “But then I thought, what would I be saying to the team – that you can only be a leader if you can work 60 hours a week? And while I wouldn’t claim to be a role model, it’s nice to know that you can be an example – that people like me can do it.”
So – how is Dienka juggling the juggle these days?
For starters, she has relaxed her attitude to the unicorn that is the perfect work/life balance. “I stopped worrying so much about it,” she says. “Instead of putting pressure on myself to achieve the perfect balance, it was more helpful to figure out what my boundaries are. So if I have to get up early to send an email, that’s alright, because that’s what’s efficient for me.”
But you shouldn’t wait until becoming a parent to establish your boundaries, says Dienka. She describes how hard she worked earlier in her career, staying at her desk until everything was done, working far beyond her contracted hours in the process – all because she felt she needed to prove herself. “Because I’d always done that, it made it harder to communicate my boundaries when I did need to leave on time.”
So Dienka’s biggest piece of advice for women at the start of their careers – and the advice she’d give to her younger self?
“Start as you mean to go on,” she says firmly. “Don’t work late all the time – work the hours you’re paid to work, because every time you work those extra unpaid hours, you’re essentially giving yourself a massive pay cut.”
When Dienka quotes a film presented by June Sarpong about women in business, I know instantly it’ll be in the title of this story. “One of the women June interviewed talked about ‘leaving loudly’. So if she had a sports event with her son for example, she’d make a real point of pulling on her tracky bottoms and trainers – and off she’d go.”
‘Leaving loudly’. I love it! Dienka does too. “There’s not enough leaving loudly. People slope off feeling a bit guilty.”
However loudly she may aim to leave the office, Dienka is still the quiet, ‘booky’ person she’s always been – and proud of it. She thinks aspiring leaders should be authentic. “I know ‘be yourself’ sounds really cheesy but if you’re a quiet person, quiet leadership is great. I find it a real relief just to be myself.”
Getting ahead in the arts
Dienka recently joined the board of the Independent Theatre Council – the very organisation that set her on the path to arts leadership at the start of her career. What specific advice does she have for aspiring leaders in the creative industry?
Well, think back to those box files lining the office walls. It’s essentially understanding the contents of those – the finances, the HR contracts, the governance reports – that Dienka credits with helping her get ahead.
“I found it really helpful to know how to do things that other people don’t want to do,” she says. “So my advice would be – by all means learn about creative side of things, but don’t dismiss those broader skills. Learn to fundraise and learn about the accounts because those skills will be really valuable. They underpin everything. Because I had management skills, I probably progressed quicker than I would have done otherwise.”
But while Dienka’s role at Travelling Light is more spreadsheets than stagecraft, what she loves most about her job is making the art happen. The charity’s outreach work on its doorstep in Barton Hill, one of the most deprived communities in Bristol, is particularly close to her heart. It seems to me that by getting great art to children and young people from all backgrounds, Dienka is tackling some of that elitism that put her off acting all those years ago.
“I feel really proud of what we do,” she says. “And because we’re a children’s theatre company, there are days when I can bring my daughter into rehearsals and she’s part of the process of making the work. That makes me feel really honoured.”
The story you’ve just finished reading was based on my interview with Dienka pre-Covid. The charity and arts sectors have been hit particularly hard by the pandemic and Dienka is currently steering Travelling Light through stormy waters, but she still found the time to share her thoughts on leading during lockdown.
“Now it seems strange to look back and remember being judged for not being able to do business during the evening over wine,” says Dienka. “Leadership has been stripped back to the essentials: keeping Travelling Light going, supporting the staff and delivering our charitable work as best we can.” (Here’s an article about how Travelling Light has helped Bristol children access creativity through lockdown.)
Along with working parents everywhere, every staff member at Travelling Light has faced challenges juggling childcare and work. Dienka hopes that a kinder workplace will emerge post-Covid. “One thing I hope comes out of all this is that the problems childcare can present are out in the open, and that they become the subject of empathy rather than judgement.”
Dienka believes that these unprecedented times present an opportunity to rethink the way we work for the better. “I hope that will mean people are judged on their outcomes, rather than how many hours they put in at the office or out networking.”
She adds that this time has accelerated the demand for wider changes in society – particularly in relation to Black Lives Matter. How does she think the movement will affect the charity sector – and address some of the problems highlighted by the #charitysowhite campaign?
“Issues of racism are being openly discussed in ways I’ve rarely experienced,” says Dienka. “There’s a real drive to examine how charities operate and what it really means to have social justice at the heart of what we do. I think there’s a real opportunity to look at the society we want to be and the role we have in shaping it. The voices of women of colour have previously been unheard, but they are now shaping the conversation – and that makes me feel optimistic.”
If you’ve enjoyed this article and would like to show Dienka and Travelling Light some love, you can support them here (I should add that it was my idea to include this ask, not Dienka’s!). Thank you so much.
Here’s an infuriating statistic for women in charities (and women everywhere). Even though we make up 65% of the workforce, a 2017 report by Charity Finance showed that 71% of chief execs at the 100 largest charities are men.
Now, there may well be a more recent report out there with better numbers for women leaders. But I haven’t found it yet. And it got me thinking: why not interview some female charity CEOs and write some stories that might – just maybe – inspire other women in the sector?
So here’s the first of what I hope will be a series of stories about women leading charities. Huge thanks to Anna Smith from One25 for kicking things off. When we met in September, we talked about surviving blokey meetings, chucking yourself in at the deep end, parenting under pressure…and rogue lunch boxes.
Sitting across from me in One25’s Bristol office, Anna Smith looks and sounds like one of those impressive people who was born to be a leader. So I’m taken aback when she tells me a story about how she responded, aged 12, to a task set by a supply teacher: write about what you want to do with your life.
Anna was one of four children. Her mum was at home and her dad went to work. In rural Cambridgeshire in the 1970s, she says, this was pretty much the norm. So the young Anna wrote in her exercise book: ‘I want to have children and then I’ll stop working.’
The teacher picked her up on it. “Why would you stop working?” she said. “You could carry on working, couldn’t you?” Anna remembers a light going on in her head. “I thought, ‘Whoah! I could!’”
Thank goodness for that supply teacher – because Anna did carry on working. Four decades on from that writing task and four children of her own later, Anna has built an impressive career in the charity sector, supporting some of the most marginalised people in society along the way.
Life in the Cambridgeshire countryside didn’t suit the teenage Anna. “I was screaming to get out of the village,” she says. “I went to Covent Garden on a school trip and I thought, ‘I want to live here.’ It became my obsession. After that, I only applied to London colleges.”
Anna made it – she read English at what is now London Metropolitan University. The college’s diverse, left wing environment spurred her into activism: when she wasn’t reading, she was campaigning. She Rocked against Racism, demanded freedom for Nelson Mandela and protested anti-abortion laws.
A speedy rise through the ranks
A job helping others was the obvious next step. Anna’s early roles involved supporting vulnerable people to find employment, first with the Vocational Guidance Association and then Workforce in Hackney.
I’m not surprised to hear that Anna moved quickly through the ranks. “But it wasn’t desperately out of ambition,” she admits. “It was more out of boredom. I wanted the challenge of something new and different, so I became a manager quite young.”
Freshly promoted to deputy CEO at Workforce, 26-year-old Anna became pregnant with her first child. How would she break the news to Graham Finegold, her CEO? “I really thought he’d tell me what terrible timing it was. But he couldn’t have been nicer about it.”
Later I ask Anna who in particular has helped her progress in her career. I’m hoping she’ll name a woman, but it’s Graham Finegold who stands out. “Graham was amazing to work with: easy, bright, focused, visionary,” says Anna. “He was a great leader, but also compassionate and aware.”
Blokey meetings and bump-patting
Anna remembers the external meetings and trips she attended on behalf of Workforce as ‘very blokey and jokey’. She was often the only woman in the room. “I’d go into meetings and people would make slightly dodgy comments about me being pregnant. Graham was always incredibly supportive of me as a woman in that environment.”
I want to hear more about Anna’s experiences as a relatively young pregnant woman in a senior role in a frequently male-dominated work environment. She remembers interviewing a male candidate when she was about seven months pregnant. “I remember standing up at the end and the guy put his hands on my stomach and said, ‘Good luck.’ It was well meant, but totally inappropriate.”
Would that happen now? Anna thinks not. “I do think things have changed. I was at the mayor’s office in London a few years ago and a guy stood up and said he had to go as it was his daughter’s birthday and I thought, ‘Good for you!’” (I ask which mayor. Sadiq, surely? It was Boris. Humph.)
Jumping feet first into consultancy
Back to the mid-nineties. Anna had a baby boy, Nathan. Having separated from his father, she was struggling to stay on top of work and single parenting. Graham suggested that she could soon be CEO of Workforce but she knew it was unrealistic. “I had a little boy. I wouldn’t be able to navigate all the late meetings without a partner to pick up the slack.”
So Anna left Workforce and worked both as a consultant in her own right and, for security, for a consultancy. She did training, fundraising, bid writing – anything that was asked of her.
“I’d say ‘Yes, I’ll do Managing the External Environment training!’ And then I’d think, what IS that even? But then I’d find out more about the audience and the subject and I’d try things out… and it mostly worked.”
That’s very brave. “I think you have to throw yourself into things,” says Anna.
I work and I parent and much of the time I feel I’m falling short at both – and that’s with a supportive husband. So how did Anna cope on her own with a young son? She didn’t even have local grandparents to lean on.
She admits it was hard. “I can remember sitting and developing training courses into the early hours, and I would be alright if Nathan slept. If he woke up – and he wasn’t the best sleeper – I’d be screwed. I’d be like, ‘I’m running this in six hours and it’s not finished!’ That’s how crazy it was. But you just go on, don’t you?”
Anna did have a strong network of friends, most of whom were flexible because they didn’t yet have kids. One particularly brilliant girlfriend, Helena, babysat Nathan once a week for six weeks so that Anna could do an evening course.
Support beyond the sink
With her own consultancy thriving, Anna made the leap to full-time self-employment. She met her partner Oliver, had her daughter Rosa (named after Rosa Parks) and moved to Spain. She kept working: it wasn’t unusual for her to hop on a plane to London, run a week’s training and fly back to Spain. Around this time she became pregnant with her third child, Maya (named after Maya Angelou).
Again I’m in awe. How on earth did she manage? What helps massively, Anna tells me, is having a supportive partner. “I don’t mean just doing the washing up and sharing the laundry. I mean turning around and saying ‘Yes, I’ll hold the fort while you run your training for a week.’ Just working as if you’re two equals.”
Then she adds: “One thing that really, really bugs me is when people say, ‘Oh isn’t Oliver marvellous!’ Because he’s only doing what I’m doing, and nobody’s saying I’m marvellous.”
YES! I’m agreeing so hard that I almost knock my recorder over. I have a similar reaction to the phrase ‘Daddy day care’.
So long consultancy, hello CEO
After a year in Spain, Anna and her family returned to the UK and settled in Bath. In 2006 she had another son, Thomas. By 2008, the economic crash loomed and Anna knew she should get out of consultancy. “Anyway, I wanted to be back in an organisation – to feel part of something again.”
CEO roles came next: five years at Survive in South Gloucestershire, and two years at Advance in London. Both charities work with people affected by domestic abuse.
Working with Bristol’s most vulnerable women
In 2017 Anna joined One25, a Bristol charity supporting women who are sex working or who have had their children removed. Earlier this year it made the headlines when Meghan and Harry paid a visit, but the charity has long deserved the attention: it has been doing exceptional, life-saving work with the most marginalised women in the city for many years.
There are no blokey jokes and inappropriate bump-patting here. Men are welcome in the workplace, but the One25 team is predominantly female and always will be. The best thing about leading One25, says Anna, is that every member of the team, from case workers to cleaners to payroll staff, cares ‘very deeply’ about the women One25 works with. Those women are seen and loved and supported, ‘wherever they are and whatever they do’.
How to be a good bad guy
And then there are the tough bits. Funding is always a challenge in the charity sector. So sometimes “really hard decisions have to be made for the right reasons but getting everyone to see that can be really difficult.” And as a CEO, “there are times when you just have to suck it up and be the bad guy. And that’s not nice.”
So how do aspiring CEOs prepare for those not-so-nice aspects of leadership? “Be honest, be yourself, admit when you’re wrong,” says Anna. “Try to put your best foot forward and be your best self.”
Words of wisdom for aspiring leaders
What’s Anna’s advice for becoming a leader in general?
“Roll your sleeves up,” she tells me. Earlier in her career she and a fellow manager spent a week sitting in a meeting room stuffing envelopes for a fundraising campaign. They could have said ‘That’s not my job’. But they didn’t. They got stuck in, because that’s what the organisation needed from them.
Remember the story of Anna volunteering to run ‘Managing the External Environment’ training when she knew next to nothing about it? She just went for it. And she thinks all would-be leaders should do the same. “Put your hand up,” she says. “Say ‘I’ll do that!’ even if you’ve never done it before. Take yourself out of your comfort zone.”
Any more wise words for aspiring leaders? “Get yourself a mentor,” says Anna, who is one and has one. All the managers at One25 have mentors too. “Find someone outside of your organisation that you can go to and say, ‘Aaaghhh, I’ve got this problem, I can’t do this, I’m worried about that’, and let them help untangle it for you.”
Mess ups – and time for self care
I may be in danger of banging on about this but…how does Anna do it? How does she stay on top of a full time CEO role and four children (now aged 24, 17, 15 and 13)?
Anna describes a massive blackboard in her kitchen which charts everyone’s movements during the week, plus a sub-board for weekends. But she messes up all the time, she tells me. Once she was running the ‘walking bus’ to school and she forgot to take someone else’s seven-year-old across the road. “He dutifully stood on the green while another parent walked him across. Then he come over and told me off! I still feel bad about that.”
Another time, when Anna had three children under five, she sent the teenage Nathan to school “with a Tupperware full of cheese rather than his actual lunch.” (That one really makes me laugh, as I too have a tub full of cheese in my fridge and it’s pretty stinky. Poor Nathan!)
I want to know about that cringey but useful phrase ‘self-care’. When does Anna squeeze it in?
Every Saturday on the hockey pitch, it turns out. “Playing hockey makes me a better mother,” she says. “It means I’ve done something for me. I get home and think, ‘Ok, I’m really willing to give you the rest of my day now.’”
No one’s indispensable
As our interview winds up, Anna remembers one last piece of advice for potential leaders: keep your feet on the ground. “You’re never that important,” she says. “At One25, the women are the most important thing. I need to remain functional and do my job well, but I’m not indispensable. I don’t believe in hierarchies and I don’t stand on ceremony.”
And with that Anna gets up, shakes my hand and strides purposefully towards the One25 kitchen. She’s on dishwasher duty.
Do you know a brilliant woman leading a charity that I should be writing about? If so, please get in touch.