Equity Isn’t Free
Why Transparent Pricing Matters in Equity Work
I’ve been in the equity space for more than two decades now — as a teacher, headteacher, executive leader, coach, and consultant. And still, one of the hardest things to talk about isn’t race. It’s not gender. It’s not even organisational trauma or systems of oppression.
It’s pricing.
I’ve learned that many people are ill-prepared to have honest conversations about the cost of equity work. They worry about getting it wrong. They anticipate that we’ll say no before they’ve had the chance to explain their financial constraints. And they fear they’ll be judged for not having the right words, or the right budget.
But I want to say this clearly: we’re not in favour of that kind of discomfort either. We don’t want pricing to be the barrier to this work. We do, however, want to shift the conversation — because pricing is never just about money. It’s about dignity, sustainability, and the kind of world we’re trying to build.
The Hidden Cost of Doing Good Work
We’re not a multinational. We’re not a B Corp (yet). But we are a small, values-led organisation committed to paying people fairly — especially those who have historically been underpaid, overused, and invisibilised in this space.
If you identify as a person of colour, a woman, a disabled person, LGBTQIA+, working class, or otherwise marginalised in society, you’ll know the story well: this work is often borne on your back. Your experience becomes the curriculum. Your body becomes the case study. And your time is expected to stretch beyond what’s reasonable.
If we build economic unsustainability into equity work, we are not disrupting the system. We are upholding it.
I’ve seen how that plays out in schools, where the demand for meaningful DEI work has grown, but the budgets have shrunk. And I’ve also seen how some organisations — even with significant resources — still default to trying to “get a deal.”
Let’s be honest. Would we haggle with a trauma therapist? A social worker? A safeguarding professional? And yet, many people feel entirely comfortable negotiating down the cost of justice work.
That’s not just a financial issue. That’s a values issue.
A Little About Who I Am and How I Work
I don’t write this from a place of distance, but from lived experience.
I’ve spent over 20 years in education — from the classroom to executive leadership. I’ve held responsibility for safeguarding, pupil premium strategy, anti-racism, inclusion, and curriculum design. I’ve led trusts, schools, and system-wide change.
My consultancy now builds on everything I’ve learned from working with — not on — organisations. This is not off-the-shelf work. It’s relational. Iterative. Reflexive. It draws on interwoven strands of practice, research, leadership theory, organisational dynamics, coaching, cultural critique, and deep listening.
I continue to invest heavily in my own development. That includes:
Ongoing coaching supervision and professional development
Studying the latest research in education, DEI, and systems leadership
Partnerships with scholars, teachers, parent leaders, and cultural practitioners
Time spent with real organisations navigating real-life complexity
Every resource I offer is informed by those investments. And, like many equity leaders, I pour those investments back into the work — so that others don’t have to start from scratch.
What Are We Really Paying For?
When people talk about “day rates” or “hourly fees,” I often find myself pausing.
Because what we’re paying for isn’t time. It’s transformation. Or at least the conditions for it.
We’re not paying for a workshop.
We’re paying for someone who can hold the room when it gets hard.
We’re not paying for a slide deck.
We’re investing in lived experience, professional rigour, and moral clarity.
We’re not paying for a one-off.
We’re supporting a practitioner who has helped dozens of organisations navigate their way from paralysis to movement, from compliance to care.
Pricing can’t be reduced to a formula when the work itself is about rehumanisation. We are not distributing toolkits. We are redistributing power. And that takes emotional, intellectual, cultural, and spiritual labour.
Our Approach: Equity-Informed Pricing
We want to make this clear: we don’t believe in exclusion by cost. But we also don’t believe in injustice disguised as frugality.
That’s why we approach pricing as a collaborative conversation, not a one-way quote. That means:
We ask what’s fair for everyone involved — not just the commissioning body.
We invite transparency — about budgets, scope, needs and constraints.
We offer flexibility where possible, but not at the cost of exploitation.
We respect organisations that lead with integrity and clarity.
We are not in favour of pricing secrecy, smoke and mirrors, or power games.
We are not in favour of underpaying those delivering justice work while applauding the optics of transformation.
We are not in favour of asking people to justify their worth.
What We Invite You Into
If you’re not sure how to talk about money, we’ll walk with you. If your budget is modest but your intentions are aligned, we’ll explore what’s possible. And if your organisation is ready to invest meaningfully, we’ll bring everything we have to that partnership.
All we ask is that pricing be approached in the same way we approach the work itself:
With honesty. With curiosity. And with an unwavering commitment to fairness.
Apparently, in Māori culture, the concept of “utu” speaks to balance, reciprocity, and restoring the right relationship. It’s not just about compensation — it’s about honour. About ensuring that what is given is returned in a way that preserves mana, the dignity of all involved.
Equity work deserves utu. It deserves to be held with care, not contingency.