Now Is a Time for Bravery: Suzanne Alleyne

Where Will Philanthropy Put Its Stake?

A Lankelly Chase Legacy Interview. Hosted by the Generative Journalism Alliance

 

 

Suzanne, can you tell me about your work and relationship with Lankelly Chase?

 

My work sits at the intersection of research, incubation and consultancy, artistic practice and what I call “policy adjacent” i.e. collaborating with people who can influence policy systems. All of it is rooted in a body of research I’ve developed called Neurology of Power™, which asks: Where does power reside in the brain and body? And how can the process of answering that question help build a more sustainable, equitable world?

 

I’m interested in the intersection of business, society, and life and the big question for me is: How can we avoid making ourselves as humans extinct? On a practical level, that becomes: How can we build resilient, fair societies? And because I believe power is at the center of all questions and change, it means drilling down further. It’s understanding power in our relationships. For context, my definition of power is the ability to influence how others think, feel or behave, whether they want you to or not together with the ability to have agency over yourself. Power in of itself isn’t good or bad, it’s about its relational use.

 

On my own and through Alleyne&, the organisation I founded, I work across four strands: organisational change, artistic practice, policy-adjacent work, and research and incubation. My primary relationship with Lankelly Chase is as a grantee, part of a wider grantee cohort. I’ve also had a secondary peer to peer colleague relationship with them through policy-adjacent work.

 

What was made possible through your relationship with Lankelly?

 

• First: on a values level: a glimmer of hope. Funders like Lankelly exist, a space where there’s less bureaucracy, simpler processes, and a sense of ideological and practical alignment. That kind of proximity, trust and understanding from a funder is rare.
• Second, practicality: there are very few funders who will support our work. At the time, Alleyne& had an annual turnover of around £160,000. So a £30,000 grant – with flexibility and support, it was a massive relief. It allowed us to focus on the work in all its splendor and challenges..
• Third: association. Being funded by Lankelly was a signal to others that we were doing something of value. That trust, validation and public signalling matter.
• Fourth, the cohort experience: the relationships, the conversations, most generative, some difficult and distressing. They highlighted the emotional complexity of this work. And when Lankelly announced its closure, it was a rollercoaster. My initial reaction was, “Oh no, we need that money.” Then I reminded myself: this work is about give and take. We can’t be so attached to our own purpose that we assume it must always be funded. That internal conflict gave me an opportunity to practice what I preach, iterating in real time, checking in with my emotions, and reflecting on power as it shows up in relationships.

 

 

So, it feels like your relationship with Lankelly was a kind of practice field?

 

Yes, but that’s how I engage with everything, for me everything is a practice field, it’s my way of interacting in the world. That way of working is amplified because I believe power shows up everywhere. It impacts how you sleep, your metabolism, your nervous system. Every interaction is a chance to examine it.

 

Lankelly offered a relationship where back-and-forth was possible. Conversations had emotional and practical consequences. That level of exchange wouldn’t have been possible with most funders.

 

 

What, if anything, surprised you?

 

There were seven or eight of us funded in the same cohort. We were invited to share knowledge, collaborate, and connect. But even in that values-aligned space, hierarchies emerged, especially around access to funding and core beliefs about who gets what, why and how.

 

For example, when we talked about the challenges of securing academic funding, those of us from the Global Majority shared how difficult it is. Some white-passing peers responded with “It’s not that hard, just follow the steps.” But minutes later, the same people would say, “Oh, I had help with my application. I now manage a grant, so I can just recommend you [for that grant].” That contradiction, that inability to recognise their power and privilege – was telling.

 

I wish Lankelly had been more prepared for those dynamics. They did recognise it eventually, but by then it was too late. This isn’t a harsh critique, it’s an observation of what was missing: facilitation, with scaffolding, challenge and knowledge. I should say that earlier on, we had an external facilitator, who clearly understood “privilege dynamics”. It’s interesting to me that those colleagues didn’t voice that while she was in place. It was after she went, with new facilitators who lacked the knowledge around how “privilege” showed itself that this example happened. My assumption is that actually with the second facilitators they felt “safe” to express feelings and behaviours that had probably always been there. That experience sharpened my understanding of what structural and relational work really needs.

 

 

And how did you process that?

 

It hurt, it cost me emotionally, but I tried to turn it into data. A viewpoint, not “evidence,” but still meaningful. I asked myself: What’s the next step in how I approach this work? What do I need to build in structurally?

 

Organisations that Lankelly funded seemed to me to be organisations that were ahead of the curve, so those organisations face all the structural, emotional, financial and practical pain points to bring different ways of working to the mainstream, at which point the hard work is done.

 

But most trusts still give most of their money to organisations that maintain the status quo – even when they claim to want change. So when Lankelly chose to close, it created both a moral statement and a material crisis.

 

 

What could have been done differently?

 

A few practical things. Lankelly could have surveyed all their grantees, past and present, to understand where else their funding came from, and what percentage of income it represented. That would have created rich data to support transitions.

 

They might have offered three-year bridging grants, nominated successor funders, or created a resource hub. Yes, it would have drawn criticism. But if you’re rejecting the system and understanding the direct impact on your grantees, say so. Be open about your decision-making and the privilege you may have in knowing deep down in your heart that you will continue to work. Use your privilege to act with intention.

 

For me, the biggest gap was in communication. Even just a regular update – “Here’s what we’re thinking, here’s what we’re feeling” – would have helped. The feeling bit is huge, people with power can choose not to engage with the difficult feelings which in turn has a significant impact on their decision making. Conversely, I fully accept that as an existing grantee I’d quite like some more funding please – I said it openly to my cohort: we’re biased. We all want funding. But it doesn’t mean the dialogue isn’t valuable.

 

Funders often say they’re shocked when people act differently after grantees realise no more money is forthcoming. But that’s privilege talking. Most of us who operate from the margins, are always operating in that space of ‘the more difficult conversations’ doing the work and surviving. To my mind there would have been real value in Lankelly talking publicly about the emotional toil of managing those types of conversations and feelings they were having as funders. To some degree they were actively  getting a taste of that of our everyday world. My invitation: do the work. It’s emotional, relentless, and real and it’s that work that leads to change

 

 

What’s your broader message to philanthropy?

 

Stop talking about change and start changing. During COVID, many funders dropped the bureaucracy and gave to people they’d previously ignored. So it’s possible.

 

We also need to look hard at the Charities Commission and ask: what is it really for, what and whose systems is it holding up? What is the charitable model doing, and what do funders like Lankelly want to do?

 

Let me put it plainly. If your child is being bullied, how long are you waiting for policy change? You’re either going to the school (repeatedly, often and more loudly each time) or moving them. That’s power in action. That’s why a lens of power is so effective. It shows who has agency – and who doesn’t.

 

People told me Lankelly staff were surprised when the tone of conversations changed after announcing the closure. I’m not sure how you could be surprised by that. As I always say: the magic and the opportunity for understanding and change is in the cracks. In the small things said. But we skip over them.

 

 

What would you like funders to ask themselves?

 

Given that we’re all in this system: My question to funders is  – What would you do if there were no constraints? Now is the time for bravery. I often say I’m here for the revolution. But the revolution isn’t coming tomorrow. So, do I walk away and wait for capitalism to fall – or do I try to make my corner of it better? That’s the tension.

 

So funders, where are you putting your stake?

 

 

You can learn more about Suzanne’s work at www.alleyneand.com and www.allaboutpower.org or email her and the team at hello@alleyneand.com

Hosted and edited by Peter Pula, Generative Journalism Alliance.