A Day in the Life: Somewhere between school shoes and stewardship

Alexia Simon is Charities Manager in our Charities and Not-for-profit Team. She’s based in our Central England office in Northampton

Most days begin long before I reach my desk. With three children, mornings are a lively blur of persuasive negotiations, missing jumpers and the familiar refrain of “Teeth. Shoes. Don’t forget your lunch.” By the time I’ve delivered everyone to breakfast club, I’ve already navigated a full round of logistics and diplomacy, and occasional crisis management.

Stepping into the office feels like entering a different rhythm. There’s time to breathe, with a strong coffee and the warmth of a team where a cheerful good morning is guaranteed. The Charities Team at HCR is genuinely special: steady, supportive and kind. It’s a privilege to work alongside people who lift each other up.

I didn’t start my career in the charity world. My background is in investment management — Private Equity and a Family Office — where structured and often high-pressured decision making and risk awareness were second nature. Those skills now underpin my interest in governance and trustee support, even if the setting has changed.

A heartfelt email can make my day

Mornings usually begin with the inbox: investment updates, trustee queries and messages from grant applicants. It’s a surprisingly accurate snapshot of what each charity needs that day. The best emails are always from successful applicants — the ones that simply say, “Thank you, this grant has made my day.” They’re a reminder of the real impact thoughtful grant making can have.

By mid-morning, I’m often deep in trustee discussions. Some decisions are quick; others require careful navigation of different perspectives. Trustees rely on me to distil complex information, highlight risks and keep the charity’s purpose at the centre of every choice.

Alongside this, I draft and update policies to support Charity Commission compliance and provide trustees with clear, practical frameworks they can rely on. Most of our charities meet quarterly, giving the year a reassuring structure.

Determination and community spirit shine through some applications

Afternoons have a different pace. Reviewing applications is never just administrative; it’s a window into the challenges charities are facing and the change they’re striving to create. I read proposals closely, assess viability and carry out due diligence. I’m always mindful of the time and effort which has been invested in each application before progressing those which are eligible through our internal processes and preparing them for trustee consideration, where the final decision on any grant rests.

Some applications stop me in my tracks — particularly those from individuals who have faced setback after setback yet still write with hope. Their resilience is humbling. And the smaller charities — held together by determination, community spirit and a shoestring budget — remind me daily why this work matters. They are trying to solve real problems with limited resources and limitless heart.

As the day winds down, I turn to the quieter but essential parts of the role: updating records, preparing papers, supporting audits and ensuring that compliance remains watertight. It’s the backbone that keeps everything else standing.

Collaboration across HCR and with other professionals is common too — whether a charity owns a commercial property and the Property Team steps in, or a land agent’s query needs the expertise of our Agriculture Team.

Making a meaningful difference is truly rewarding

When I close my laptop, I’m always struck by how connected the two halves of my day really are. The morning chaos at home and the structured calm of work may look worlds apart, but both require clarity, resilience and a steady hand. Both ask me to show up fully. And both make a meaningful difference which is truly rewarding.

Then it’s straight into school pick up and the merry-go-round of after-school activities. With three very sporty children, every evening except Wednesday is spoken for — though my son still insists I’m unreasonable for not squeezing golf lessons into that one free slot. And I suspect he’ll keep trying to convince me.