I would imagine that there has been a marked increase in insomnia this week amongst my fellow charity CEOs, and especially those of us in the homelessness sector. The Chancellor’s budget is being touted as increasing employers’ national insurance costs to the tune of £800m for charities (Third Sector). For us at Jimmy’s, a relatively small charity, but one with a mighty impact providing vital accommodation and support to those experiencing homelessness and rough sleeping in Cambridge, it looks like c.£40k. In real terms for us that’s a whole person, a highly experienced front line support worker and all of their on-costs. Or, more than an entire year’s training budget for the whole organisation, or potentially two leases for move on properties. As I’m bolt awake at 3am staring at the ceiling, I’m genuinely not sure where that money is going to come from, what do we stop doing, how many sofas can I look down the back of, to try to cobble together the cash? Where are the additional opportunities for fundraising, ones that do not cost anything to start in the first place? How do I find £40k on top of an unexpected massive rent hike on one of our hostels this year alone?
I have everything crossed that the pledged increase in funding for the next financial year for our sector, actually translates, as direct funding for existing services. Please, not another annual round of bidding for money, desperately coming up with innovative ways to secure relatively small pots of cash for ‘new stuff’, because keeping the doors open isn’t seen as sexy enough to attract funding.
And that’s what I need to do, as I reach for the ‘on’ button on the radio to try to distract myself and hopefully fall back into the arms of fitful sleep. I just need to keep the doors open. I need to find enough money to pay my brilliant, committed, experienced, professional staff the living wage they deserve, keep the lights on, keep the buildings heated, fix the tap in the bathroom that’s now not dripping, more waterfalling. Pay for decent, nutritious, appetising food for our residents, and the wonderful cook that comes in to prepare and make it for them. Perhaps even ensure there is a bit left over for support orientated activities like baking, art, and the simple things, like going for a coffee once a month to just get out of a hostel environment and allow our residents to do normal everyday stuff, safely and with someone who has taken the time to build trust and build up a vital, connected relationship with them.
As much as I would love a sudden lightening bolt of realisation to strike, and charities to be exempted from this massive tax hike, and for any additional investment in our sector, to not simply offset the added cost pressure, or push services that are working to close, in favour of shiny new, untested pilot projects, the realist in me kicks in. My Board and I are facing some incredibly difficult decisions, whichever way we cut it, ones which will impact the people who can shoulder the burden least and who need us the most.
Natasha Davies
1st November 2024