The Pitfalls of Me, Myself and I

My husband, Will is a hard-working primary school teacher. He valiantly fights off childrens' germs for 6-week terms at a time, like some kind of brave immune-system-warrior. And then, when the term finishes and he's given a glorious week or two (or six!) to relax and recharge, those same germs sense that his defenses are lowered. This means that, without fail, he gets ill at the start of every holiday period.

Last week was half term for Will and, like clockwork, a beast of a cold set in. I married a very generous man, and he kindly shared his cold with me. Now my body takes things like colds very seriously - we (my body and I) approach them with a single-mindedness and dedication that in other areas of my life I'd be proud of. I went to town on this cold, and have spent the last few days under a heap of snotty tissues on the sofa.

None of this is a problem, really. I have Netflix and plenty of chocolate; I'm ok. However, it has been a real hiccup for my work on the Discovery College. This week in my day off and over the weekend I had intended to finalise job descriptions to advertise for the upcoming Witney Pilot, and make initial applications to four charitable funds for varying amounts, as well as respond to a few offers of volunteering from wonderful strangers. I just about managed to hold my brain together long enough to finalise the job descriptions, but nothing else got done.

In the majority of my roles to date I've worked within a team, and whilst there have always been things that only I could do, there's been a reassuring sense of shared responsibility. However this project's pace is currently dictated solely by me: if I am not doing it, it does not get done. This can create a lot of guilt during any 'down time' I have and, as I've discovered this week, if I can't make progress because I've been slayed by my husband's monster-cold...

I'm passionate about this project, and it is absolutely worth every once of energy I'm putting into it, but I'm so looking forward to having my energy matched by a team of people who are just as motivated and excited by this as I am!

Being a Funder-phobe

What is every CEO or Director's least favourite part of their job?

Fundraising.

Unless you are the charity-sector equivalent of a unicorn and actually enjoy writing bids, or are a Fundraiser by trade. I am neither of these things, and for the vast majority of people who I know in senior positions, neither are they. Trying to secure funds to ensure the ongoing existence and growth of your service can be one of the most stressful, testing, and isolating parts of the work.
And it's a complex task; different funders want very different things, each fund has it's own way of evaluating and reporting, the core costs like office space and senior salaries are notoriously hard to fundraise for, as is the continuation of existing work (shiny, new and innovative always has more appeal). Attempting to do all of this, without letting the anxiety of what's at stake trickle down to your staff team is a huge task.
There's also the way that this process effects our ability as organisations to share, be open, and collaborate. What if Organisation X is also looking at applying to the same fund as you? Do you risk telling them the outline of your bid to see if there might be an opportunity to work together and submit something jointly when they might just undercut you? What if there is no cross-over and, despite the best of intentions, you end up competing? A very wise woman, Yasmin Sidhwa (of Mandala), combats this by speaking about abundance - she chooses to work on the assumption that there is enough for everyone and tries to see how she might work differently or make different choices if that truly is the case.

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Now I've worked on numerous funding bids, worked with fundraisers and within teams to put bids together, and managed ongoing relationships with those funders when the money does eventually come through. What I'd never done before is be wholly and singly responsible for fundraising.

This. Is. Terrifying.

11pm at night

So when I found myself, 2 days before my honeymoon, having discovered a fund that was a good fit for a Discovery College pilot with a closing date while I'd be away, it was a very clear case of being thrown in at the deep end. On those 2 days I went to work and then came home, positioned myself on the sofa with laptop and glass of wine, and settled in to work until pretty late at night.

Fundraising is not something I enjoy, or a part of the work I find fulfilling, but it is absolutely vital to enable the service to develop, grow and exist. I was therefore delighted when the verdict came back from the funder that we'd been awarded a sum of money that would enable us to deliver a small pilot group in Witney early in the new year (hurrah!). This was hugely validating, both for the concept of the work and my fundraising abilities, and helped reassure me that this idea really does have value outside of my own head.
It's also prompted me to think about how I want to do fundraising in the future - every other aspect of the college is based upon principles of openness, transparency, authenticity and collaboration. Fundraising may be one of the hardest areas to incorporate these principles, but that doesn't mean that I have a free pass not to try. I'm therefore stating my intention: as far as possible to lean on Yasmin's mindset of abundance and to try to ensure I'm involving and encouraging others to have open dialogue about our efforts to secure the resources we need to do the fantastic work we do. Let's end some of the cloak-and-dagger practices around this vital strand of our roles.

... Oh, and to at some point hire a fundraiser!

World Mental Health Day 2019

Today is World Mental Health Day (which is part of the reason we scheduled our press releases for this week), and there have been numerous campaigns over the years on this day to raise awareness and reduce stigma.
I fully support this, and proudly took part in Young Mind's #HelloYellow campaign this year by digging out my most obnoxiously bright jumper to wear to work to spark wellbeing conversations.
However, as the years roll on and we congratulate ourselves for getting better at talking about mental health, there's something that I've noticed grates on me. While we're encouraging people to 'speak up', 'ask for help', 'reach out', we're simultaneously watching the services that those same people will need to access and rely upon be stripped back and shut down. During our years of austerity measures we've watched public and third sector services as they're decimated and I worry that all of these people who, after years of silence, finally reach out will have a damaging experience. This damaging experience of being turned away or struggling to access services that are stretched may mean that they never speak out again, or that they feel forced to make even more destructive choices for themselves.
I think that our World Mental Health Day celebrations and campaigns need to increasingly profile not only our willingness to talk about our difficulties, but also whether we're appropriately funding and resourcing the support mechanisms that we need.

Superhero Profile: My Favourite Designer

[Harvey, top right, Groomsman Extraordinaire at our wedding]

As the report and the Oxfordshire Discovery College concept go live, I want to express a bucket-load of gratitude to one of the key people involved in making it happen.

This is my good friend, Harvey.

Several years ago, Harvey Wilson set up a design agency, Reulo.
I contacted him over the Summer, explained that I had very little in the way of budget, but that I was in dire need of a logo to go on a report. Immediately, Harvey agreed to help, and said what is quickly becoming his catch phrase:

"I'll just fit it around other projects!"

This cheeky little sentence doesn't do justice to how busy Reulo's portfolio is, or how incredibly hard Harvey works. Not only did he deliver a logo, but also an entire set of brand guidelines, logo variations, and not one, not two, but three variations of my report beautifully designed and presented. His materials have received nothing but glowing compliments from everyone who's seen them.
Now he did this partially because he's a good friend with a good heart, but it's also because he cares passionately about charities and small businesses and, having been there himself, understands that sometimes good initiatives need a bit of help to get started.

So this is my superhero-shoutout: if you need high quality design work, branding, a sexy new website, or authentic video storytelling and photography, please reach out to Reulo. You wont regret it!

Soft Launch Survival Plan

Today is Thursday.
On Monday, press releases which were issued to 11 news outlets in advance are being released to the general public, letting the Discovery College cat out of the metaphorical bag.
It's fair to say I'm a little nervous, but at the core of this announcement I've placed something concrete, sturdy and inarguable:
Back in April, I advertised for two young people from the Oxford University Micro-Internship Scheme to work with me on a short project. I wanted them to explore all things youth mental health; national statistics and trends, best practice and government guidance, local provision and coverage and lastly, where (or if) a Discovery College might fit into all of this.
The wonderful Oxfordshire Youth agreed to host the interns in their office for the week, and I met the equally wonderful Isaac and Joanna on their first day to brief them.
Rumour has it that these fantastic humans pulled all-nighters to not only pull together a rough and ready report, but to create something thorough, robust, informative and pretty slickly presented, in only 5 days.
This report is what I've placed at the centre of Monday's announcement - I'm letting everyone know that we intend to build this new service, that Elmore will be helping us to do it, and that we've really done our homework as to the need and relevance. I'm immensely proud of what Isaac and Joanna produced, and feel that we've taken their findings on board in our planning since April.
Part of the reason for doing a public 'launch' of this news is to help recruit people to participate in a working group to further drive development forward. This has meant that a lot of my time recently has been focused on comms; I've built and populated a website, bought domain names and email accounts, set up social media channels, and run a particular Designer friend ragged (more on him next time). All of this, really, in the hope that some people with real lived experience might come forward to lend me their expertise and perspectives while we co-create and co-design.
So lastly, what exactly is my survival plan? Over the last week I've definitely been feeling my anxiety in my body - poor sleep, grinding my teeth at night, heart palpitations. This is why consciously considering how I look after myself through these pinch points is an essential. It's not all in the preparation, although that's been pretty substantial! We in the field also know that aftercare can't afford to become an afterthought...
Therefore next week is full of good things; meeting with the life-affirming OWLs Action Learning set, dinner with my partner, a 10 mile hike at the end of the week, and some social time with friends over the weekend. This project demands that I care for myself as much as I nurture it, and I'll certainly do my best to continue to honour that.

"Caring for myself is not self-indulgence, it is self-preservation, and that is an act of political warfare" - Audre Lord

Telling Future Promises

In 1995, Mastermind Tim Smit began dreaming up the Eden Project. He had a track record of creating beautiful (and ambitious!) green spaces, but the scale of this new idea was something previously unattempted. He needed partners and he needed funders. Friends were astounded at Smit's approach, barrelling into meetings and selling the Eden Project like it was already underway, whilst knowing that all he really had in his pockets were a few sketches and a handful of earth.

He called this 'telling future promises'.

 In the moments when I'm feeling most like a fraud, I remember this. I'm trying to create something new, and I know that it's something worth doing. But at this stage, I have no funding behind me, I'm fitting the development into my spare time, and only a handful of people and organisations know what I'm working on (to safeguard it, at this vulnerable point). So when I go to meetings, or I prepare a press release, or I write funding bids, it can sometimes feel like I'm selling a big bag of air...

So I take a breath, remember Tim Smit, and start telling my future promises, the future promises of the Oxfordshire Discovery College. And you know what? It works. People hear my conviction, they see the vision that I'm painting for them, they get excited about the idea. They start to spot the need that I keep harping on about in their day-to-day lives (people sending me newspaper articles about 'the youth mental health crisis' in sympathetic outrage). Friends and colleagues text me asking for updates on 'the college idea', 'ODC', and (inexplicably) 'DISCO'.

So now, one of the first future promises is about to become a reality; we're going to launch the college, our host partnership, and another sneaky surprise (you'll have to wait) in just a few short weeks. I'd love everything to be a little more concrete for us, but that's the nature of beginnings - they tend to be a little bit unformed. But it's going to grow into something freakin' fabulous; just you watch...

Finding our Lobster

The five potential host organisations were all very different, ranging from local community-based organisations to large health-based organisations in entirely different regions. The decision as to which one would be one of our closest partners (our 'Host'; our Lobster...) felt terrifyingly momentous.

I therefore drafted in help. I needed to draw upon some professional expertise to help me to think critically and in an unbiased way about each of the options, and to narrow down to a decision I was fully confident in. I called my parents.

Now Mumma and Pappa Laura happen to both be skilled and experienced Training Consultants and Coaches. Throughout my life they've employed their full repertoire of models, tools and theories to help me to navigate decisions and challenges. It was therefore not too strange to me (although a little unusual for my new husband) to find myself sat with them at their table in the garden surrounded flipchart, pens, and gin and tonics. Several hours and pages of scribblings later, I had my decision.

There were two pivotal realisations that enabled me to narrow my way down to one partner:

1. The host partner will not be our only partner. Just because I don't choose Organisation A as our host, it doesn't mean that we wont work together. If we're a good fit, we'll find other ways to collaborate and support one another.
2. Our host partner needs to be an asset not just now while we launch, but for the next few years. If their contribution becomes less valuable after our first few months, a different relationship with them may be more appropriate.

The name circled in green and underlined 4 times at the end of all of those scribblings?

Elmore

I had worked with the wonderful Tamsin Jewell (previous CEO) in the past, and her successor, Tom Hayes, had worked at Restore at the same time as me. Tamsin kindly introduced the subject to Tom as part of her handover to him, and Tom and I quickly scheduled in a meeting. Tucked away in a little Cowley Road cafe, with Tom offering alternately enthusiasm and strikingly perceptive questions, we began to plan how Elmore and the Oxfordshire Discovery College might work together.

Getting the right people around the table

• Mad idea? - Check
• Family support? - Check
• Partners and allies? - Not yet...
• Voices of stakeholders? - No...
• Funding? - Big fat no.

Funding felt like too big of a mountain to scale at this early stage, so I decided I needed some critical friends and some cheerleaders. I set about inviting anyone who was interested to join a small working party.

Now, I'll be honest, this working party (despite being supported by some of the very best people I know) was a total flop.

I was still trying to figure out exactly how all of this might work, and I was wanting to find ways to instil co-production from Day Dot, whilst avoiding going completely public with the proposed service.

Side note: Co-production, for those who aren't familiar, is a process of involving, being led by, and working alongside the people who will ultimately benefit and use the service when you're creating it. This empowers people, helps ensure that you design a service that's actually fit for purpose, and stops you developing too much of a crazy messiah complex. It's also a really fun, fulfilling way of working.

We had our first working group meeting and, despite 50% of what was already a fairly small group not turning up, I found it hugely beneficial. However, I also received a lot of feedback that participants were a little confused, and it appeared that this stemmed from my attempts to involve them in early-stage co-production. It seemed as though participants were very willing to help, but didn't want to overstep, and ultimately needed a bit of a skeleton of what the project might be laid out for them in order to feel safe enough to contribute to it. This was a huge learning curve for me.

We did, however, agree that we would set up the Discovery College under a 'Host Organisation', nestling under a well-established partner, so that we could focus on developing the model in our early years rather than focusing on things like legal status, insurance and payroll.

I canvassed organisations that I was aware of that may have some synergies with the Discovery College model to see if any might be interested in playing this role of a Host.

Incredibly I received 5 (yep, FIVE!) offers, and felt at that point that I had been more than productive enough and deserved a stiff drink and a long holiday.

Instead, I took a few weeks off in May/June to get married, as my little brain definitely couldn't handle trying to juggle both the Discovery College project and writing vows. It was during this time that I realised that I would need to simply make a decision as to which organisation was best suited to act as our Host and that, with this structure in place, we would be in a much better position to involve people in co-production. If I'm honest, I felt a little heart-sore that I hadn't been able to involve stakeholders in this particular decision. However it had become clear that I couldn't promote an opportunity for young people, parents, carers, to get involved in shaping the service, whilst also keeping my vulnerable idea safe from external competitors until it was established enough to be viable.

I did, however, now have some partners and allies in place; my critical friends and my cheerleaders. Next up, appointing a Host...

What does this mean for me?

I made the decision to pursue the Discovery College idea, but I didn't make the decision alone.
Here comes the first of the career/gender conflicts...
I got married (to a wonderful human being) in June of this year, and that meant that this decision would hugely affect him too.
Before making the commitment to find out how feasible my mad idea was, I first needed to check with my partner how he felt about it.
We had been talking about having a child before he turned 35, just 5 short years away at the time, but with this project on the horizon the timeline would be impacted.
We started doing some maths...
If it would take potentially a full year to secure funding and even initiate the project (say all of 2019) and then, with it being my brainchild, a further 4 years minimum to get the model embedded and the future of the service secured we're looking at 2024 before I could justifiably consider maternity leave. The idea of taking up to a year off from a project I've initiated and led at such a pivotal time would feel a betrayal, so pushing back my family priorities for a couple of extra years seemed non-negotiable if this was going to work.
My now-husband, Iron Maiden t-shirt-wearing and leaning against the stove in our kitchen, considered this for a moment while he poked at the onions sizzling in the frying pan. Ultimately, he said it was fine; that I should pursue this if I felt so passionately about it, and he believed in it, and me, 100%.

I felt reassured, but also frustrated that I had had to choose and prioritise - delaying our fledgling family decisions to allow space for my professional identity to grow.
It's something that I hear frequently from my female peers - when at work they feel guilty for leaving their family unattended, when at home they feel they're neglecting their work. Many brilliant women I've known have had their careers take a real stumble when they leave to have a baby, and part-time arrangements can be hard to come by.
The Discovery College was not only igniting me, it was raising in me tensions that I didn't even know existed...

In The Beginning... There was a Mad Idea

Late last year, 2018, I'd just left a job that I loved to start a new job that I wasn't so sure about.
The saving grace of the new job is that I only worked at it for 4 days a week, which gave me a whole glorious day (4 every month!) to think about what I really wanted.
I spent this day swimming, walking, feeling very smug about not working on a weekday, and meeting pensioners in saunas (usually by accident, I promise!). All of these things left me with headspace to realise a few things:

1. I really like working part-time.
2. I loved the model that my old job was based upon, drawing on co-production, holistic support, and a non-negotiable expectation of utter transparency.
3. There were things that were getting in the way of that model working properly, and I thought that I could now pinpoint what they were, and even figure out what I might be able to do about some of them given the opportunity.

From these reflections, a little idea took root in my head, and began to grow with the tenacity of some kind of hardy weed.

I wanted to found a Discovery College, an international model of mental health service for children and young people.

By the time I got to December, I knew that I couldn't sit on this idea forever, and decided to sound it out with some people I trust.

I took my thoughts off to my (utterly indispensable) Action Learning Set. For those who don't know, an Action Learning Set is a safe, confidential space where you can raise ideas or challenges with a group to receive support and most importantly questions to shape your thinking (advice is strictly banned!). This Action Learning Set in particular was put together by the Dream Queen Emmy O'Shaugnessy, Director of Ark-T, to provide a space for women leaders, particularly those in senior positions in the charity sector, to find peer support and inspiration. I pitched my idea of a new mental health charity to the group and braced myself for some brutal home truths about it being over-ambitious, unnecessary, or arrogant. They didn't come. Instead, that group asked some very perceptive questions about my motivations and the practicalities of a project of this scale, and ultimately gave me a serious helping of support, encouragement, and empowerment.

I left that session with a commitment to at least give this 'setting up a charity' business a go. If it fails I've been reliably told that there's no shame in that, and if it succeeds I've contributed to a cause that I care passionately about.

So this is my journey; there's still a bit to catch you up on, but I'm sure soon enough you wont be able to stop me talking about my mad idea of an Oxfordshire Discovery College...!