Why Community Fundraising Needs People Like Louise

When you meet Louise Barnard, what stands out is her warmth. She has a way of putting people at ease – she’s open, friendly and naturally tuned in to the people around her. It’s the kind of presence you’d hope for in a Community Fundraising Officer at ellenor. But for Louise, fundraising runs far deeper than a job title; it’s woven through her family story and her understanding of what it means to care for others.

Louise grew up in Gravesend, and ellenor has been part of her story for 28 years. As a teenager, she spent the final weeks of her nan’s life visiting the hospice almost every day. “I can still remember how wonderful it was 30 years ago,” she says. “You’d come in and it just felt safe and calm. We wanted her to be somewhere that felt like home and that’s how it felt. We were very looked after as well.”

On the day her nan died, the nurses held them, comforted them, and made space for their grief. That experience stayed with her and it shaped her family in ways she didn’t fully understand at the time. Her grandad, heartbroken by the loss of the love of his life, found solace in fundraising. He joined every campaign he could and even took part in the old London-to-Gravesend sponsored walk – three times. Louise remembers doing the walk with him once. “He was miles ahead of me,” she laughs. “He was in his eighties, and he was still there powering on.”

Fundraising soon became a family tradition – her sister, mother, aunt and cousins all joined in. They took part in the Twilight Walk, Lights of Love, raffles and discos – long before Louise ever imagined working for ellenor. It was their way of honouring their nan and giving back.

So when the role came up to join ellenor’s fundraising team, Louise hesitated because she didn’t want to step into a world her sister already worked in. Her sister Sarah, who works in the events team. Sarah was overjoyed and said, ‘Go for it.’”

Louise did – and now the sisters work just a corridor apart.

Today, Louise is just three weeks into her new role, and she admits she’s still finding her feet. Community fundraising is everything from bake sales to open gardens and sponsored events. “It’s our job to look after people raising money for us,” she says. “If they need buckets, banners, pull-ups – anything like that – we get it for them. We pick up collection pots, deliver new ones, and support their events. It’s about making sure they feel confident and supported.”

For Louise, the role is as emotional as it is practical. She knows many supporters fundraise because someone they loved was cared for here. “A lot of the time, supporters have had someone here who died,” she says. “They saw the difference it made to the person they loved – and to the rest of the family. And they just want to carry that on. They want to make sure it’s available for anyone who needs it.”

Her own experiences have shaped her approach, especially her years supporting autistic children and young adults through school, social situations and transitions into work – and raising her autistic son. “By giving the right support to somebody, that person can achieve so much,” she says. “

It’s no surprise, then, that empathy is at the heart of her work. She listens more than she speaks. She notices what people need, even if they don’t ask for it. And she understands in a way not everyone does that fundraising is never just financial. It is emotional work, built on kindness and connection.

“You can’t raise money if you’re a selfish person,” she says. “You have to want to help people you’ll probably never meet. You might never know their name but you know your support will help someone else’s person.”

In her first few weeks, Louise has already seen the impact supporters make. She recently joined a school visit with one of ellenor’s nurses to talk about syringe drivers – small portable pumps that give continuous medication. “I didn’t even know what a syringe driver was,” she says. “But hearing how much difference it makes, how it helps keep someone comfortable, that’s what you can tell supporters.”

She’s also been taking supporters around the hospice, showing them the Wellbeing Centre and the garden. “People are blown away,” she says. “They expect something dark, and instead they see a warm, bright place full of life. It changes everything.”

For Louise, that’s exactly why local fundraising matters. “It’s local,” she says. “You’ll know someone who needs our services or it could be you. If this wasn’t here, where would you go? And it’s free. People forget that. That’s priceless.”

Asked how she would describe ellenor to someone who’d never been inside. “It feels like home,” she says, smiling. “Safe. Warm. Important.”

In many ways, Louise’s story has come full circle. The teenager who walked these corridors in grief is now welcoming new families, new supporters, new generations of people who love the hospice the way her family did. And if there is one thing she hopes for in her new role, it’s this: that people feel seen, supported, and connected – just as her family once did.