Paul Streets, our CEO, considers the contracting roller coaster of many local charities as a result of state and public sector commissioners that prove themselves to be fickle fair-weather friends.
23 May 2024
This article was originally published by Third Sector
On the edge of Sunderland, across the busy road to Hendon that dissects one of the poorest districts of one of the poorest towns in Britain – on any indices you wish – you’ll find NERAF.
It began in 2011 as a charity supporting people in the community with substance and alcohol issues. Until July 2021, it supported men with substance and alcohol issues who were on probation through an MoJ Transforming Rehabilitation contract.
When that money dried up and the chief executive retired, it morphed to meet the need for drug and alcohol support and recovery under the leadership of Amanda Lowery, an ex-business development manager from a social housing background.
When Amanda took on the role, there were no contracts or grants secured or even on the horizon, and only a small sum left in the bank.
She started by asking whether a substance and alcohol charity was needed at all – but it is evident from the numbers it now reaches (415 in the past year) and the busy group session taking place when we visit, that there is plenty of demand.
As NERAF met that demand its income rose to more than £200,000 in 2023/24, mostly through a combination of support from funders like us, Public Health and local health services through the Integrated Care Board. But support from the latter looks like it will largely evaporate as a consequence of the deep cuts to ICB budgets.
Such is the contracting roller coaster typical of so many local charities, as so often the state and public sector commissioners prove themselves to be fickle fair-weather friends.
But fickle or not, and financial support or not, it doesn’t stop them recommending NERAF. Most referrals come from local health services that share common frustrations that the local statutory provision thresholds mean many people who need support are not eligible.
Amanda says without irony that clients are told “you don’t drink enough” to access statutory services. Others in need wither on the vine of long waiting lists and broken bureaucratic systems.
In most cases, it also means that following an A&E crisis admission or detox, many people receive no support at all and frequently relapse without the correct support to maintain their recovery. This often results in the same people repeating the same cycle over and over again.
NERAF works with anyone who comes to it for as long as they need, offering a combination of group work largely facilitated by volunteers, all with lived experience, and one-to-one support delivered by a small lived-experience staff group.
The charity’s frustration is that local support is not joined up or co-ordinated around a coherent pathway based on severity of need and is too focused on the problem when it is already difficult to resolve.
There is also a lack of local funding and staff resources aimed at prevention and brief intervention in hope of quelling the tide of addiction for future generations.
At the foundation, we provide a wide range of organisational support alongside all our grants. We talk with Amanda about whether we could help with NERAF’s future strategy, and the balance between meeting the needs that come through the door, and seeking to influence the wider system of provision by working with Public Health – who clearly rate them.
The same dilemma is faced by so many small charities: work within a dysfunctional system, or seek to improve it.
Like many small charities, NERAF has the huge advantage that any influencing it does will be more credible because it provides effective services as a frontline charity, can bring forward the authentic voice of the people they serve and is financially resilient.
This can help demonstrate the charity not only has sensible advice to offer, but is not simply coming to seek favour for the next contract.
Amanda’s last story tells it all. She often gets concerned calls from the local health service to ask if NERAF has seen one of their ‘frequent flyers’ into A&E as they are concerned that they may have come to harm.
On one call a couple of years ago, she was asked whether she had seen ‘Jane’ recently as they were concerned. “Yes,” Amanda said. “She’s at the photocopier.”
NERAF had been keeping her busy as a volunteer, recognising she needed a sense of purpose and some structure to her life to support her recovery. As a consequence, she was no longer frequenting A&E. Jane has now been in recovery for 18 months, and has gone from being a client, to a volunteer, to a staff member at the charity.
Thank goodness for the NERAFs of the UK quietly and modestly picking up the pieces of failing public services. But the challenge for them all is that they simply cannot meet the need. Ultimately, they need also to try to change the system. I hope NERAF builds that into its future strategy.
It’s something we consider with our work as a funder: balancing unrestricted funding for frontline charities as well as funding charities, collaborations and partnership work, and wider communities to shape policies, practices, structures and systems.
Like most charities, we need to ask: what can we do to improve things for all of the people we are here to serve? Not just the few we are able to support directly, or through the small number of charities we are able to fund.
