Tributes are pouring in for the founder and editor of Sorted Magazine, Steve Legg, who died on Monday September 16th. His wife Bekah, told Christian Daily: “Steve was one of a kind and the best of men. And I am so grateful I could call him mine for 16 years. His love and joy and relentless cheerleading encouraged me to do things I never could have imagined. But it wasn’t just me, he did that for so many people. He leaves a legacy in the lives of all those he met and believed in.”
Writing in Premier Christianity magazine, Steve’s friend of 20 years, Carl Beech said: “When we were both diagnosed with serious health conditions, we kept cheering each other on. A message here, a catch up there. As his cancer started to grip him, his unwavering faith and constant humour inspired me so much. We were real with each other though. The odd tear was shed. The last time I saw him, he answered the door wearing sunglasses, explaining that it was so ‘you wouldn’t see me crying when I give you a hug.’ I’m going to miss my mate like you won’t believe, but my faith in Jesus assures me that we will see each other again soon. Perhaps in the blink of an eye. Until then, I know he will bring joy and laughter to the heavenly host. See you soon mate.” Read Carl’s tribute in full here: Steve Legg (1967-2024): The comedian who covered one million miles for the gospel | Opinion | Premier Christianity
Those of us who’ve had the privilege of working with Steve on Sorted Magazine have been sharing our memories, remembering our happy “Steve stories”, counting our blessings and missing him lots. It seems only right to give Steve the last word on this subject, so here’s an extract from his candid book The Last Laugh. Steve Legg: “I chose to get busy writing” – Sorted Magazine
I looked around. I was the guest speaker in a large, successful church, and the service was hopping – literally. The congregation were well into the songs, and a gaggle of enthusiastic teens had rushed to the front of the auditorium to the edge of the stage, where they were dancing to the high energy tunes. On stage, the worship team were technically brilliant, the graphics on the huge screen behind them stunning. Each member of the band (there were about ten of them) looked like they had stepped out of a fashion magazine. Fabulous teeth that facilitated gleaming smiles, the ladies all young and beautiful, and the chaps all appeared to be sporting six-pack abs and fruit-of-many-workouts biceps. (I wondered if slightly overweight, average-looking folks were banned from the platform, but surely the ‘ugly’ quota would be more than fulfilled once I got up to preach.)
Everything looked great, but inwardly, something still wasn’t right with me. I often feel like that in church. Everyone else seems totally caught up in the holy moment, and I catch myself fretting; distracted; questioning; anxious. I feel more like a refugee than a local. Perhaps you know the feeling.
What’s wrong? I asked myself. This church had grown from a fledgling plant to a thriving congregation of 2,000 people in ten years, and had planted other congregations in that fruitful decade. I didn’t know the pastor well, but he came across as an authentic leader and a brilliant communicator. So what was up?
I wondered if I was struggling because this was the third service of the morning. I had sat through all the songs, announcements, the ‘spontaneous’ witty asides twice already, and perhaps this was just beginning to feel a little redundant.
But that was not it. My home church has three Sunday morning services, which means that I get to hear myself three times over when I preach. I’m used to repetition. And then I identified the source of my vague disquiet. These are great people. The music is wonderful.
And, beneath the surface, they are truly committed to the gospel – the financial giving of the church shows that they mean business and are willing to sacrifice to full their mission. It’s all good … but … it’s all just too exciting. I couldn’t attend this church regularly, because I can’t be that thrilled about being a Christian that regularly. Being ecstatic about being a follower of Jesus on a weekly basis is just beyond me.
As the thought registered, the worship leader stepped up a gear in terms of exhortation, yelled that Jesus was awesome, and with a hint of rebuke in his voice, commanded the now sweaty congregation to dance more, shout louder, clap together, because Jesus was worth it. Inwardly, I groaned.
Now don’t misunderstand me. Despite my 61 years, I can shout and clap and even bop with the best of them, even if my dancing does look a little uncoordinated and people have been known to want to call for medical assistance when I break into my jerky, frenetic moves. I love to see a congregation giving their best when they praise the Lord. Sullen, spectator churches depress me.
But I worry when church has to always be exciting. When every service has to be a breakthrough, when every gathering has to result in an eye-popping, life-altering encounter with God, and when we have to be excited all the time, surely some unhealthy traits emerge.
First off, life isn’t always exciting. On the contrary, I recently spoke to a young widow whose 35-year-old husband had just passed away following a brave, five-year battle with multiple brain tumours. She’s trusting all right, but she’s far from excited. There’s the danger that we reduce faith to having excited feelings, and then when those feelings fail to appear, we wonder where God has gone.
And then there’s the problem that looms if every service has to be awesome. Quite simply, we can end up faking it, over-egging what happens because we’re desperate for a result.
Surely sometimes church can be predictable. We get together, sing our songs, pray our prayers, open the great Book, ponder its meaning, affirm our faith, and go home. No mountaintop transfiguration experience required, just the people of God huddling together and reminding each other that they are the people of God, and that Jesus is still alive.
Surely we should make allowances for church to be rather ‘boring’ sometimes? The Early Church must have had at least a few services where they weren’t dancing on the tables. Some of their gatherings were punctuated by deep disagreements. And on one glorious occasion, the apostle Paul droned on for so long that a hapless young chap fell asleep and tumbled out of a window. OK, so they raised him up (that bit was exciting) and the slumber was explained by the lulling warmth of oil lamps burning rather than the apostle being tedious, but it happened nonetheless.
Boredom is part of tenacious relationships. Not every conversation with a trusted friend will necessarily be exhilarating. Marriage isn’t scintillating every day. Can’t the same be true of the collective relationships that we call church?
Recently, there’s been a call for worship songs that more accurately reflect the different seasons of life. There’s been a dearth of ‘songs of lament’ that can be used to express struggle, doubt and pain.
While I think such songs would be challenging to write (‘Let’s all stand together and sing number 47: I’m naffed off, how about you?’), surely there should be some songs that are appropriate for when a national disaster is announced, or that can express uncertainty, fear, or despair.
The great songbook of the Bible, the book of Psalms, contains plenty of these statements; frequently the psalmist asks, why, how long, and even “God, where have you gone?” Can we not create songs that express the full texture of life here on this broken planet?
Perhaps I should start a new organisation called the International Federation of Occasionally Boring and Predictable Churches. That’s silly, I know. Nobody would join. But we could at least give each other permission to truthfully say that life is not an endless hop, skip and jump, and that, at times, although we’re still trying to follow Jesus, we’re dragging our feet as we do so. Weekly exuberance is therefore not always required. Faithfulness is a fruit of the Spirit; excitement is not.
This is an extract from Staying in the Boat by Jeff Lucas. It is published by CWR and available here:
One of the UK’s most unusual exhibitions heads to Milton Keynes for the first time next month (Marshall Arena, October 9th – 10th 2024). The two-day Christian Resources Exhibition (CRE), often dubbed ‘the ideal church show’, will feature up to 160 organisations, displaying everything from eco-friendly heated pew cushions to clergy clothing, contactless donation apps to digital organs. A full list of exhibitors can be viewed here.
Alongside the exhibition will be a series of more than 40 talks and presentations covering fund raising, faith sharing, bereavement support, social media, church security – and much, much more. One of the three talks and presentation areas will be devoted entirely to the theme of worship with renowned practitioners Roger Jones, Devon Brown, Lucy Grimble and Lou (pictured below) and Nathan Fellingham contributing over both days. As well as leading visitors in worship, they will offer an historical perspective on the subject and consider how led worship can be developed in local churches.
Open to everyone, but particularly helpful to those actively involved in their local church, CRE is expected to attract almost 2000 visitors from all major denominations.
World-renowned professional football freestyler Daniel Cutting (main photo above) will open the event (10am, Wed 9 Oct) and remind visitors how churches can use sport as a vital bridge to their local communities. A 10-time Guinness World Record holder, Daniel, who lives in Milton Keynes, specialises in product launches, corporate events, commercials – and school assemblies! Depending on the occasion, he will also tell audiences about his Christian faith. A member of a church in Milton Keynes, where he and his wife run a youth group for 20 or so young people, Daniel said: “I am particularly excited to do events in a Christian setting, using my gift to glorify God.”
CRE MANCHESTER 13/3/2019 Pics by HOWARD BARLOW
Steve Goddard, owner of CRE, said: “By coming to MK for the first time we’re responding to a ‘Macedonian call’ – bringing much-needed new products and services to churches, large and small. We would encourage ordained and lay leaders and office-holders from all denominations to make the very most of an event that cannot return to the region for several years.”
CRE 24 will be held at the Marshall Arena, Milton Keynes opening hours: Wednesday Oct 9th, 10am-5pm; Thursday Oct 10th, 10am-4.30pm. Advance tickets available from £3 (£8 on the door). Visit www.creonline.co.uk for more information.
Have you ever had that experience in life when you feel you’re just going through the regular routine and not really focussed, not fully present in your own life? A bit confused maybe? A bit lost?
I don’t suffer from sleepwalking but I was interested to read that when people sleepwalk, their eyes are usually open, but they will look straight through others and not recognise them. Strangely, they can often manoeuvre quite well around familiar objects!
Sleepwalking can happen in our spiritual life too. We might find ourselves going through the motions, not really focussed, head all over the shop. It might manifest itself as a lack of motivation, or no clear idea of purpose in life, and we end up drifting through life. It’s possible to spend years like that, sub-consciously manoeuvring around responsibility or looking straight through someone, not really engaged in the conversation. Many a time I’ve found myself listening to an inspiring message, which at the time seemed to connect on some deep level with me. It felt like a significant, life changing moment. But by the next day the impact had faded and it no longer seemed that important. I didn’t run with the new line of thinking and got distracted by something else.
Or maybe we experience moments of wonder or beauty – birdsong in a forest; the ebb and flow of waves crashing on the beach; a breathtaking view; an historic building; a wonderful piece of art; but we quickly move on. It’s as if we look straight through it and don’t recognise it for what it is. We don’t let the wonder and beauty change our hearts. We manoeuvre around it. It’s like sleepwalking.
When I was younger, certain professions were given the label ‘a calling’. It might be full time clergy, doctors, or teachers. In my mind it was as if these roles in life were of some higher purpose than others. I don’t remember the word calling being applied to creative people – artists, writers, songsmiths, musicians, dancers or actors. Creatives were lesser beings.
It wasn’t until after his death that Leonardo da Vinci became known for more than just his painting skill, and people discovered that he was also a very prolific thinker in anatomy, astronomy, botany, cartography, palaeontology, science and technology. So how would we classify his calling?
He is famously quoted as saying, “There are three classes of people: Those who see. Those who see when they are shown. Those who do not see.”
All the more interesting then to find these words in the letter Paul wrote to the early church: I pray also that the eyes of your heart may be enlightened in order that you may know the hope to which he has called you. Ephesians 1:18.
Who’d have thought it? Our heart has eyes enabling us to know what it is we’re called to do; who we’re called to be, where we fit in the grand scheme of things. Maybe we could ask God to open the eyes of our heart, see things afresh and avoid sleepwalking.
Digital Editor’s Note: I’m very pleased to welcome Philip, a Deacon at a church in London, as our Sorted Magazine Guest Writer. Philip shares why, when it comes to generosity, he feels a strong sense of responsibility to do his part.
Philip writes: Taylor Swift was back in the UK for the final leg of her Eras tour this weekend after making headlines for giving away enough money to cover the food bills for an entire year across 11 food banks and community pantries in Liverpool. This is an amazing public display of generosity, and she has bettered the lives of thousands of people among the UK’s poorest. But it can reinforce the impression many people have that only rich people can give generously, at least financially.
I’m 52 and I live in social housing in London with my wife. I earn a low income, work multiple jobs and am a deacon at a local church where we regularly give our time, and money. Our financial situation means that we cannot always give consistent amounts, but we always make sure that we have enough saved so that we can give something.
When I was growing up, my father was very active in raising money on Poppy Day for the Royal British Legion. He was the local organiser in our community for the appeal and when he passed away, I decided that I would take over and do the same thing, which I did for several years.
Since then, I have been inspired to support a range of causes such as Macmillan Cancer Support because of close friends who have been helped by them. Seeing the difference that such charities have made in their lives and in the lives of those who are in much harder situations than my own has, along with my Christian faith, instilled a sense of responsibility that I should do my part too.
Living towards the lower earning end of the spectrum does mean that giving financially is always a sacrifice; every time I consider giving, I have to think about our upcoming bills, keeping the car running, ensuring that no debt is accumulating, and budgeting for any future holiday plans. Things that people like Taylor Swift do not have to think about. But I have found that being generous, and giving money away, is worth it.
I remember having a conversation when we were on a holiday in Bournemouth speaking to some people from the lifeboat institution down there. And that inspired us because we were due at that time to switch our charities from the ones we had been giving to. We decided there and then to put the RNLI (see main photo) on our list, if only for a finite amount of time, and we have felt a strong sense of satisfaction and joy ever since.
While the biggest barrier to giving more financially for anyone in my position is obviously affordability, my personal connections to charitable causes and the trust I have in the charities I give to is a huge influence. This is reflected in Stewardship’s inaugural Generosity Report launched in June, that found those who trust the causes they support are likely to be more generous to all causes. Similarly, their research found that the main barriers to giving were feeling unable to afford to give and a lack of trust that donations would be used well.
I tend to trust charities that are well established and have a paper trail that demonstrates to me that their methods work, whether its digging wells in Africa or finding homes for the homeless, and at the end of the day I give what feels right to me.
I know I cannot compete with Taylor Swift when it comes to how much I give, but generosity isn’t about quantity, it’s about mindset, and I’m grateful that I’m able to give the little that I can to help make the world a better place. Imagine what would happen if we were all able to do the same.
Main Photo Credit: Val Fraser (bronze statue of Welsh lifeboatman Richard Evans located at RNLI Moelfre)
Extract from the Prologue of The Last Laugh by Steve Legg:
It’s the film most often voted number one in the top-ten movies of all time by viewers and critics alike. I’m talking about The Shawshank Redemption. You will almost certainly be familiar with it, so I don’t need to say any more than that it’s a story based on one of Stephen King’s tales about prisoners who leave their mark on the institutions in which they’re incarcerated. In the case of Shawshank (as it’s affectionately known), the film focuses on a man called Andy (Tim Robbins) who is wrongfully arrested, charged, sentenced, and then imprisoned for the murder of his wife and her lover. In prison, his life is improved by the formation of a friendship with Red (Morgan Freeman). In many ways, Shawshank is a buddy movie, and part of its appeal is its celebration of an unlikely friendship between two men – one white, the other black.
There are so many famous quotes in Shawshank, some of which have entered our everyday vocabulary. One of the best-known and loved is the word of wisdom uttered by Andy and remembered later by his friend Red, which goes something like this: “We all have a choice. We have to get busy doing one of two things: living or dying.”
I would also add laughing or crying here. If you’re going to busy yourself with living, then busy yourself with laughing as well. That’s the choice every inmate of Shawshank State Prison has. They can either choose to accept the situation and find ways to live rather than merely exist, to thrive rather than merely survive, or they can give in to the despair that surrounds them on every side, like the walls of their cells. Andy chooses to busy himself with living. As does Red. This book is about the two-year journey I’ve been on since I received that initial news, then that the cancer had spread to multiple locations in my body, and later that I had only five months to live. That was a kind of sentence. Some of you may think it was a death sentence. Later in this book, I’ll tell you otherwise. I chose to get busy living, not dying. I chose to get busy laughing, not crying. And I also chose to get busy writing.
The Last Laugh by Steve Legg is available from Amazon or Eden.
As a northerner and a journalist I was delighted to discover that I’m a direct descendant of the founder of the Manchester Guardian newspaper. That’s an understatement. Actually, I was off my head with excitement! Imagine me, Mrs Nobody from the north end of nowhere, sharing the same DNA as someone I have long admired, a giant of the journalism world? Two years after the infamous Peterloo Massacre of 1819 John Taylor founded The Manchester Guardian which arguably became one of the most longstanding and respected newspapers in the world. Taylor published stories about the little people, exposed exploitation, held the powerful to account and changed the course of history.
My joy was indescribable. A voice deep within whispered: “Now I know why I have this burning fire within me! Why I must write.” I put the kettle on and pondered the sheer significance of who I suddenly knew myself to be. In an instant I had become someone else, I saw myself with fresh eyes, no longer ordinary, surely I must be extra ordinary? I drank my tea and for at least fifteen minutes basked in the giddy glow of this unexpected greatness. Then I re-read the genealogy report; then I researched further; then I compared some facts; then I realised that the John Taylor I was descended from was not the John Taylor of Manchester Guardian fame; then I opened the biscuit tin.
My John Taylor shared the same date of birth as the Manchester Guardian’s John Taylor, along with some other similarities. But a few minutes online and the full truth of the matter became apparent. Had I just wanted it to be true? Yes, I had wanted it to be true. Had I needed it to be true? Maybe. Did I have a blind spot to some of the facts? Did I leap to conclusions? Did I just want to feel important? Different? Descended from greatness?
Those fifteen minutes taught me something special. For the entire duration of a tea break my self-belief soared, my self-love lifted, my self-respect resonated. It was really quite remarkable. My calling, my purpose, things deep within my heart were empowered with a fresh fervour. The stance of self-deprecation briefly evaporated. I was really rather impressed with myself. I thought I was alright. I’ve since raised a glass to both John Taylors and decided that perhaps I should embrace that kind of confidence a bit more often, regardless of my DNA.
Digital Editor’s Note: I’m very honoured to welcome paramedic, Joe Hill (pictured on the left below) as our Guest Writer. In this painfully honest account, Joe shares the difficult story of losing his son Levi, and how, in spite of the crushing grief, he is moving forward.
Joe writes: Hi; I’m a paramedic in Cumbria. In March 2024, our family’s life changed forever when our son Levi died suddenly at 32 weeks and was stillborn a couple of days later. As a family, we were devastated beyond words. In the aftermath of our loss, we were surrounded by the love and support of our friends, family, colleagues and church community. Their kindness and compassion helped us navigate our grief and find strength in our darkest moments and we will be forever grateful.
During this heart-wrenching time, the maternity team at West Cumberland Hospital were incredible. They guided us through those unbearable days with compassion and care, making the impossible just a little more bearable. We spent precious time with Levi in the Bluebell Suite, a special room at the hospital named for the beautiful picture of bluebells at Rannerdale Knots that hangs on the wall. It was in this room that we held our son for the first and last times, confronting the overwhelming reality of our grief. The bluebells at Rannerdale Knots have since become a special place for us, a symbol of our love for Levi and a place where we can feel connected to him.
The Challenge – June 14th 2025
In the wake of our tragedy, I was determined to find a way to create something positive from our loss. To channel my grief and honour Levi’s memory, I decided to embark on a personal challenge: Levi’s Loop. The cycling challenge is to ride to every ambulance station in Cumbria, the top of Hardknott Pass, the top of Great Dun Fell, and a pass by Rannerdale Knots – all within 24 hours. The route is just over 280miles with somewhere between 5000m and 8000m of ascent depending on which planning App you believe.
Levi’s Loop is not just about raising money; it’s about creating a lasting memorial for Levi and using our collective strength to support others. I’ll be recruiting riders to join me for sections of the route, providing company and safety. This challenge is set for June 2025 giving us all time to train and prepare. Whether you’re an experienced cyclist or new to the sport, your participation is welcome.
The Charities
In the weeks following Levi’s death, we were introduced to Team Evie, a charity that offered us invaluable peer support. This organization, based in Cumbria, supports community nursing teams, local hospitals, and the intensive care ward at the RVI in Newcastle. They aim to make hospital stays more bearable for families and poorly children, and provide much-needed support to bereaved parents. The compassion and understanding we found through Team Evie gave us a lifeline during our darkest days.
As a paramedic, I’ve seen first hand the toll that mental health struggles can take on individuals. Ambulance staff regularly face traumatic situations, and over time, this can significantly impact our mental health. Before Levi’s death, I was already a strong advocate for staff health and well-being, organizing fitness challenges and promoting healthy lifestyles. Good diet, sleep, and the willingness to talk openly about mental health are crucial for our well-being. Levi’s death challenged me immensely, but through good support and a willingness to face the grief and talk openly about it I’ve managed to avoid complete despair.
I hope to use my situation to encourage conversation and peer support among my colleagues and relieve some of the stigma of admitting you’re struggling. This is why I am also raising money for The Ambulance Staff Charity (TASC). TASC provides a range of mental, physical, and financial services to support the well-being of the UK’s ambulance staff, including those on the road, in control rooms, and in support roles.
All donations will be split equally between Team Evie and TASC.
My hope is that this challenge will grow and be undertaken by others, as individuals or as teams, so that Levi’s memory can live on and continue to inspire positive change. Through this challenge, I aim to create a lasting memorial for Levi, turning our grief into a force for good. Your support can help us make a meaningful impact on the lives of families and ambulance staff in need.
To find out more and to help honour Levi’s memory please visit:
New research from leading residential park bungalow provider, Regency Living, reveals that over half of over-60s feel excluded from their local communities, whilst 70% struggle with loneliness at some point or another.
Regency Living has surveyed 1,028 UK over-60s to ask questions around loneliness, isolation, and community to understand what role these things play in our lives as we get older. The survey reveals that whilst 30% of over-60s live alone, as many as 70% of those surveyed struggle with loneliness at times.
Whilst 52% are in daily contact with loved ones, 48% stated that they only have contact with friends and family on a weekly basis or longer. 37% of those surveyed also stated that they have no contact with their neighbours beyond greeting them in passing. As many as 51% went on to say that they don’t feel included within their wider community.
One of the key reasons for this lack of community amongst the over-60s is seemingly the lack of opportunities available to them, with 37% stating that there were no chances to get involved in the community, whether it be community groups, days out or clubs to attend.
All in all, the survey reveals that loneliness plays a significant part in the lives of many over-60s, and 21% even go so far as to say that loneliness is negatively impacting their quality of life.
A Regency Living spokesperson explained: “Loneliness can have a negative impact on both mental and physical health and it’s not just those living alone who can struggle, as often age or the declining health of a partner can result in a restricted ability to get out and about, meet with friends or family and get involved in the community.
While many downsizers are initially drawn to the park home lifestyle due to the more affordable price and the opportunity to release equity in the existing home, it’s the ready made community aspect and its accessibility that soon becomes the best thing about park home living.
Park home sites have an incredibly strong sense of community and togetherness, bringing support, companionship and security, all of which are extremely important aspects for those in later life. As a result, park home owners are able to enjoy a wonderful quality of life whether it be alone or with their partner and are never short of things to do, or people to do them with.”
Digital Editor’s Note:As a record number of women have been voted into the House of Commons Sorted Magazine welcomes two Guest Writers – Girls’ Brigade CEO Judith Davey-Cole, and Margaret Casely-Hayford, Patron. In this article they share their opinions and ask how can we ensure gender equality remains a priority.
A record number of female MPs have been elected in the UK General Election, with a record number of 242 female MPs being voted into the House of Commons, surpassing the previous record of 220 in 2019. Years of well-evidenced research establish the value of women’s leadership and the benefits of gender diverse boards and senior leadership. We know it’s important to ensure gender equality in our governments.
However, the path to leadership for women is still fraught with challenges that require our collective effort to overcome. We must continue to raise women up, not only by celebrating their successes but by actively equipping and encouraging them on the journey to get there.
We represent the Girls’ Brigade England & Wales, a fellowship which creates opportunity for networks of support to be built, which can be present and helpful for young leaders. Girls’ Brigade enables and equips girls to be the leaders of the future, in all spheres of life. Internationally, we have special consultative status at the UN Commission for Status of Women in recognition of the life-changing work we do to build the skills, confidence and agency of girls and young women.
The work we do is transformational in building girls’ confidence and resilience and enables them to live life to the full. It equips them as leaders of the future in whatever they do. Dawn Butler MP explained: “I was in Girls’ Brigade when I was a young girl and my experience was very life-affirming. I felt safe and like I could grow and develop. Today, it’s still relevant. It’s a safe place where girls and women can get together to share experiences and build friendships and that is a valuable component of a young person’s growth. As an African-Caribbean woman and leader I believe it is important for me to use my experiences to smooth the road for those coming after me. I firmly believe that when girls and women are on the ladder of success, we should lay the foundations for an escalator, making the journey of women coming behind us faster, smoother and easier.”
A young leaders programme helps people prioritise building a culture of trust and integrity, because working in an environment of trust and integrity means that people can do their best work and success follows.
But once a woman is in a leadership position, more obstacles follow. The various entrenched reasons for women’s lower level of political participation are also well researched and well known. They range from deeply ingrained culture and customs, lack of self-confidence, economic factors (like the gender pay gap) to these pressing responsibilities for caring for children and other family members. Organisations lose their investment in senior staff and leaders if they leave to take on the demands of caring responsibilities. There has undoubtedly been progress in recent years, but we’re not where we need to be in terms of a just and fair society.
As we celebrate women in leadership, let’s use this as a chance to introduce essential policy changes on caring responsibilities that so often hamper at critical stages in people’s careers, especially women.
The different perspectives that women bring on relationships and decision making tend to result in more collaborative workplaces with a more positive inclusive culture is well documented. And crucially gender balanced teams tend to be more innovative and creative.
Although men increasingly share in childcare and care for the sick or elderly, it’s still the case that the vast majority of this unpaid-for benefit to society is fulfilled by women. Many of our volunteers are carers, and some are sandwich carers where they’re caring for an older relative while at the same time bringing up their children. Many of our girls are carers too.
We believe more focus is needed to create better infrastructural support to enable and support women in leadership. And this includes better workplace information and networks set up for those with caring responsibilities to prevent feelings of isolation. We also know that professional carers have never been seen as such and have therefore been undervalued for too long. We suggest that Government, Third and private sectors could usefully collaborate on the professionalisation of the caring industry, setting up clearer career structures and support for care workers, for example through establishment of a code of conduct, with principles, underpinning guidance on behaviours, expectations and accountability so that there is greater transparency about what is demanded of them.
If we can offer young girls and women the opportunity to shape their own journeys in leadership and build the policy infrastructure and support that women in leadership need, then we can truly bring equal representation of women’s views and priorities to our democracy.
Find out more about the work of Girls’ Brigade at www.girlsbrigadeministries.org.uk
