The Charity Sector's Obsession With Struggle Stories - Let's Talk About It.

"So tell me, what's your story? Where did you experience real struggle? You must have loads to share!"

Firstly, ew.

Secondly, if that's the extent of your social skills whilst networking, then I'm worried for you.

Thirdly, just why? There are so many questions you could have asked, what was the need to go there in the first three seconds? You could have asked what my work actually is, how I've navigated my journey, what support do I need to keep growing, what I've been successful in, what I could even teach you? Ok too far, they'll never ask that, but it would be nice.

This is an accurate depiction of most fundraising or networking events I've experienced that are with or on behalf of funders, donor or philanthropy based events or those fancy galas.

For any person belonging to a marginalised group who's been in the charity sector or even as someone in a leadership role that requires fundraising, you’ve probably noticed something strange: the obsession with the "struggle story." Yep, that’s right. There’s this weird fascination with framing communities of colour as being constantly in crisis.

It isn't just an innocent trend—it’s a deep-rooted issue tied to racial biases in how charities are funded and supported. So, why do these struggle narratives keep dominating the sector, and why do funders eat them up like it’s their favourite snack?

So, Where Did This Obsession Come From?

Historically, fundraising has always thrived on emotion. If a story makes you cry, you're more likely to donate, right? But here's the thing—when it comes to charities led by people of colour, there’s this heavy pressure to centre hardship, crisis, and adversity. It’s as if the only way our communities are "worthy" of funding is by being pitied. The focus is constantly on the struggle, with little room left to celebrate the actual resilience, innovation, and brilliance of the people doing the work.

1. Philanthropy's Racial Bias Problem: Spoiler alert—philanthropy has a major racial bias issue. A study by Bridgespan and Echoing Green found that while more funders are talking about racial equity (yay awareness!), they’re still acting in ways that leave leaders of colour stuck. Access to networks? Limited. Funding pipelines? More like trickles. And don't get me started on the big grants—they usually go to the "tried and tested" organisations. Whatever that means. (You know what that means). So, when it comes to people of colour leading organisations, the answer often lies in falling back on "struggle stories" that appeal to funders' emotions.
2. The Extractive Nature of Fundraising: The hashtag #CharitySoWhite wasn’t trending for nothing. It kicked off a long-overdue conversation about how many charities—and their funders—are guilty of using extractive narratives that exploit the hardships of people of colour for the sake of donations. This cycle reinforces a pretty toxic message: "Tell me how bad things are for you, and I’ll throw you a lifeline." When, really, we should be hearing: "Tell me how amazing your work is, and how I can support that growth." See the difference?
3. Power Dynamics, Much?: Fundraisers of colour know this one too well. According to a report by Cause Effective, fundraisers from marginalised backgrounds constantly feel the pressure to bend their storytelling to suit the tastes of white donors. And guess what? Those tastes often involve hearing about the hardship of the communities they’re "saving" rather than stories of joy, innovation, and success. It’s like a superhero complex that refuses to see the people they’re helping as the heroes of their own stories.

The Psychological Toll of Reliving Trauma

If it wasn't already obvious, there a psychological toll that this constant focus on struggle can have on people of colour, especially when they're asked to share their personal experiences of hardship at events or fundraising galas. Reliving trauma in public spaces is no small thing. For many of us, it’s emotionally exhausting to retell stories of adversity, where in many cases, the money raised to benefit a funder or a third-party organisation—not the person speaking. It’s an uncomfortable reality: you’re asked to pour your heart out, evoke empathy, and often receive little to no direct benefit from it. It's like being used as emotional labour for someone else's payday, and it’s not OK. Leaders and advocates of colour have been sounding the alarm on this, highlighting how this constant retelling of struggle perpetuates cycles of tokenism and burnout.

Remember, it's different when we frame and narrate our own stories. When we have the power to express our journeys and how much of that we choose to share. Yes, quite often in charitable spaces, there's a level of challenge in our stories that we've experience to be in that space, but it isn't the only thing we have to speak about and not everyone has a struggle story, believe it or not.

It'd be more refreshing to speak on the expertise, the skills, the talent, the ambition and the solutions we have as a result of our journeys in order to providing real-world solutions to problems, and not be simply used as a pawn for cheques.

The Real-Life Impact on Organisations of Colour

Okay, so here’s the other not-so-fun part: this obsession with struggle stories isn’t just annoying—it has real-world consequences. Charities led by people of colour are underfunded and overburdened. Why? Because funders tend to focus on short-term crisis funding rather than long-term, sustainable investment. The Baobab Foundation has been vocal about this, pointing out how Black and minority-led organisations have been systematically overlooked, with funders citing excuses like "lack of data" to justify not investing. As if innovation by people of colour can’t be trusted unless there’s a 20-page Excel sheet to back it up.

So, What’s the Fix?

We need to start flipping the script. Charities led by people of colour deserve to be seen for more than their struggles. There’s a whole world of solutions, innovation, and community strength that doesn’t need a tragedy to validate it. Let’s move past the crisis porn and focus on long-term, empowering narratives that celebrate the whole community—not just its hardships.

1. Rethink Your Approach: Funders need to check their bias and stop making emotional struggle the barometer for investment. It’s about time we fund people of colour because of their innovation, not despite it.
2. Centre the Full Experience: Fundraisers and charities—let’s tell the stories that don’t just pull at the heartstrings but also celebrate the brilliance of what we’re achieving. Struggle is part of the story, but it’s not the whole thing. We’re tired of the single narrative.

The charity sector’s obsession with struggle stories is outdated, problematic, and rooted in racial bias. We’re more than just our hardships—we’re leaders, innovators, and change-makers and you know, real people.

We don’t need to be "saved," we just need to be supported.