Last year, we commissioned a storyteller to work with 10 Pathways Fund partners to produce content for the sector in their own word. Part of this content is a four-part thematic essay series for the sector, capturing the key themes that came up from partners. This blog is part of the series, please read the other blogs here.
One of the clearest tensions to emerge across these interviews was the gap between what funders say they want, such as youth-led, lived experience-driven, equity-focused work, and what they actually resource. The Pathways Fund grant partners weren’t short on ambition or credibility. What they lacked was legitimacy in the eyes of the institutions around them. Many described feeling like they were constantly trying to prove they belonged, and often to people with far less proximity to the issues they were working on.
With public and political backlash growing in areas like climate justice, DEI, trans rights and care reform, that work has become even harder. Several partners told us they felt their organisations were now seen as “risky” simply because they refused to soften their politics or approach.
“It’s still challenging to be taken seriously as a young person in a lot of the rooms we’re in — especially in policy spaces, but even in community spaces too. People can be dismissive of what we’re saying, because we’re not coming at this as experts on air pollution. We’re just speaking from our own lived experiences — and often that gets dismissed.” — Anjali, Choked Up
For many, legitimacy felt it was being gatekept because they weren’t more formal structures. Almost half the cohort needed a fiscal host to access their Pathways Fund grant. While Blagrave welcomed and supported this model, most funders still seem to expect a board, a business bank account, and a multi-year track record, even from groups that are youth-led, newly formed, and community oriented.
“I really appreciate that using Social Change Nest as a fiscal host means we can still access the funding. I know they use it because everything is transparent — it’s clear what’s being paid out and where it’s going. That gives funders confidence, which they often only feel when working with charities. We’re aligned on a lot of those values, but we can’t do the work of being a charity. And honestly, we’re not entirely comfortable with the restrictions — We don’t want to censor our artists, because they certainly have a lot to complain about.” — Elle, Radical Body Arts
The effort it takes to “look fundable” was often underestimated. Partners described setting up payroll systems, establishing policies, writing privacy statements and building websites — all while juggling other jobs, studies or caring responsibilities.
“We didn’t even have our own domain name email addresses — in 2022, we were still using Hotmail and Outlook. And without those kinds of things, it’s really hard to be seen as credible. We were already at risk of not being taken seriously just by being youth-led and a bit newer, and that made it even harder.” — Issy, Our Streets Now
Even when legitimacy was hard-won, some partners found themselves excluded from funding pots meant to support the very communities they come from.
“Established funders say they want to fund care-experienced work — but they only seem to fund other big, established organisations. And I’m like, great, you’re giving money to a charity that’s been around for 20 years instead of one that’s fully care-experienced and only a few years old. It feels like the opposite of what they say they’re trying to do.” — Isabelle, Care Experienced Movement
This experience was echoed by other panthers too. “We once applied to a national funder and were told, ‘We fund risky organisations, but you’re too risky.’ It felt personal. Five years later, we’ve secured hundreds of thousands in funding and proved that early belief pays off.” – Avocados Impact
This lack of recognition had emotional costs, too. Several partners described how being the only person of colour, the only disabled person, or the only lived expert in the room came with a quiet exhaustion — not just of being under scrutiny, but of constantly having to translate, explain or justify their presence.
“It’s not really something anyone else can fix, but the imposter syndrome is real. And sometimes it grows into something more like frustration, like being the only people in the room who look like us. Being surrounded by people who don’t have to relate to our experiences…it just gets tiring.” — Beau, Choked Up
“We were like, the only people of colour and the only young people who were actually campaigning on this issue. And even in spaces about clean air, we’re constantly having to explain why we belong there.” — Anjali, Choked Up
Some groups spoke about actively being excluded from the systems they were trying to improve — particularly when that work came with challenging the norm.
“We’ve tried working with local authorities, but they often just ignore our emails. Even though we’re care-experienced and grew up in that system, if you don’t already have a connection, it’s hard to even get in the room. And I get it — we’re basically going in and saying, ‘Hi, what you’re doing isn’t working.’ That’s hard for people to hear.” — Isabelle, Care Experienced Movement
At the same time, the external landscape is shifting. Many of the issues Pathways partners work on — climate, care, anti-racism, gender, access — are becoming politically contested in ways that makes their work more urgent but also more precarious.
“There are new barriers that have come up since we’ve been on the programme. It’s about funders, corporates and different bodies that have taken their focus away, or even cancelled their initiatives around DE&I… even when we have qualified young people, they’re still overlooked because of certain buckets they may or may not fall into.” — Treasure, Motivez
“When we started, anti-racism was everywhere, and now we’re in a bit of a dip period… we kind of missed it, and it’s been hard trying to rebuild that momentum.” — Ava, Not a Trend
These aren’t just isolated experiences. They reveal a sector-wide tension: youth-led groups are often invited to speak, to contribute lived experience, or to appear on panels — but rarely to lead. Too often, they are brought into conversations when their identities or issues are momentarily “hot topics,” rather than as long-term partners in building sustained movements. This creates a cycle of short-term visibility without lasting support, leaving many groups — and the communities they serve — feeling that their stories are valued, but their solutions are not.
“It can feel like a bit of a tick-box exercise at times, I think. For example, because of the Care Review happening in England, there’s suddenly a lot of interest in that space. And I just think, you’re probably only funding that because the government’s looking into changing it right now. I’m always really cautious of that.” — Isabelle Kirkham, Care Experienced Movement
“We’ve come across ‘accessible’ opportunities that just…aren’t. Like a residency for disabled artists that had no roads nearby, no phone signal, and a 30-minute pedal bike ride to the nearest shop. If even one disabled person had been in the room when that was being planned, they’d have known it was never going to work.” — Elle, Radical Body Arts
What partners asked for from funders was simple: more involvement from the start and more representative funding. They don’t just want to be case studies, co-creators too.
“In the same way that many funders will ask us how we involve the people we’re targeting in the design of our work, the same should be done by them. Funders need to involve the organisations they want to support in the design of the solutions they’re implementing. That’s how you get it right — from reporting requirements, to support packages, to what’s actually needed.” — Treasure, Motivez
This is what made the Pathways Fund different. Partners described Blagrave as a funder who didn’t demand perfection, polish, or performative pain. Instead, it backed boldness. It supported honesty. And it recognised that legitimacy doesn’t always come in a grant-ready package.
“Blagrave has all their principles really bang on. They’re bold, they encourage organisations to be bold too, and they hold strong social justice values that lean towards the more radical side of changemaking. It just feels like there are so many funders who get it all wrong — who are honestly just kind of icky in the way they do things. I almost feel like Blagrave empowers us to be really brave. Anything radical we put out there isn’t going to scare them — it’s encouraged.” — Issy, Our Streets Now