But why not you? Reflections from our Be a Councillor Workshops in Wales

By Loti Glyn

Recently, I’ve had the privilege of facilitating a series of our Be a Councillor events for women across Wales who are open to the possibility of becoming a councillor.

Over this time, I facilitated four workshops, met eight incredible women who are currently serving as councillors, and spent time with countless brilliant women who I have no doubt are already making - and will continue to make - a huge difference in their communities.

Every workshop was different, but one thing really stayed with me:
**the questions women brought with them.**

Some were big, complex questions about local government, political life and what it really means to be a councillor.

But many were much simpler - the kind of questions that can easily go unanswered when information about becoming a councillor focuses on elections, processes and responsibilities rather than the reality of actually doing the job. But these questions were fundamentally important and they can have a big impact on someone’s decision to stand.

How do you balance having a life alongside being a councillor?
What happens if you have children? How are you meant to balance that as well?
How do you build a presence in your community if you haven’t lived there all your life?
What happens when male councillors talk over you or dismiss your ideas?

Behind many of these questions, I found myself hearing another one:

“Be honest with me - how the heck have you managed to do this?”

**There’s no councillor handbook for everything**

What I found particularly powerful was hearing our councillors answer these questions honestly.

Their answers weren’t sugar-coated, but they weren’t discouraging either. They spoke openly about the challenges they had faced, while also sharing the moments that made the role worthwhile.

They talked about the highs - the opportunities to make change, represent people and have a tangible impact on their communities - but they didn’t shy away from the harder truths either.

For women considering becoming councillors, I think there can be a tendency to look at the role from the outside and feel as though everyone else already knows something that you don’t.

There can be an assumption that you need to have all the answers, understand how local government works, know everyone in your community, and possess some kind of innate political confidence before you can even consider putting yourself forward.

he reality, as our councillors reminded us, is rather different.

Over the course of the workshops, we heard from councillors who had known for years that they wanted to make a difference. We heard from those who had fought elections, lost, picked themselves back up and tried again — eventually winning a seat in their community. We heard from councillors who had a clear plan and pathway into office.

But we also heard from councillors who had never intended to become councillors at all. Some had simply wanted to make a difference in their community. Others had become frustrated by an issue affecting their ward and thought, essentially, someone needs to do something about this - and then dived in.

There was no neat, universal pathway. No magic formula. No moment where everyone suddenly felt completely ready. In fact they were all still learning

Perhaps the biggest message I took away from all eight councillors was that no single pathway will ever fully prepare you for being a councillor. In fact, a surprisingly consistent message was that they had all felt a little - or a lot - lost when they first started.

And honestly, I found that reassuring.

Because becoming a councillor is a big change. You’re learning a new role, navigating new systems, representing other people and, in many cases, getting very familiar with the IT team as one councillor told us!

Of course you’re going to feel a little lost.

The difference is that, despite those feelings, they kept going.

And when I asked many of the councillors about their biggest wins, it wasn’t necessarily the big political achievements that came to mind. It was the changes they had made in their communities. It was the person in their neighbourhood who knew they could count on them. It was finally getting a niggling issue resolved that had been making residents’ lives harder day-to-day. It was seeing something change because they had spoken up, asked a question, chased something down or simply refused to let an issue disappear.

Those moments seemed to be what made the hard parts worth it.

When I was thinking about what I wanted to highlight from these workshops, I kept coming back to all the different pieces of advice shared by the councillors.

There were practical tips. There were stories of things that had gone wrong. There were moments they reflected on filled with laughter and honesty. And there were plenty of reminders that nobody has it all figured out.

But one piece of advice stood out to me more than anything else:

Instead of asking “Why me?”, change the question. Ask “Why not me?”

I think there’s something really powerful in that shift.

Because sometimes we can spend so much time thinking about all the reasons we aren’t the right person - we don’t know enough, we haven’t lived here long enough, we don’t have enough time, we’re not confident enough, we don’t have the experience - that we forget to ask whether any of those things actually mean we couldn’t do it.

The women who came to our workshops didn’t all arrive thinking, I am definitely going to become a councillor. And they didn’t need to.

They came with questions. They came with curiosity. They came with concerns, doubts and, in some cases, a very healthy level of scepticism.

What they also came with was a desire to make their communities better.

And perhaps that’s a pretty good place to start.

Sometimes, the most valuable thing we can offer someone who is considering standing for election isn’t another factsheet or another list of responsibilities. It’s the opportunity to ask the questions they’re actually worried about — and to hear honest answers from someone who has been there themselves.

Because you might not feel ready.

You might not know exactly what you’re doing.

But maybe the question isn’t “Why me?”

Maybe it’s simply:

“Why not me?”
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