This is The Imperfect Activist.
Not polished.
Not perfect.
But honest.
And still in the struggle.
And honestly? That’s pretty good going - all things considered.
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Want to make change but don’t know where to start?
Start here.
Grab your headphones, press play and get involved.
We platform young people taking action - so you can join in it too. We make space for the hard feelings - so you can know that it’s okay to feel them too.
The Imperfect Activist
We are young people living in a world on fire.
Genocide. War. Persecution.
Climate collapse. Rising fascism.
And still - we’re expected to build careers,
start families, plan futures like everything is normal.
But none of this is normal.
No generation before us has had to grieve the planet in real time.
To watch genocide play out through our phones.
To grow up knowing the world might not survive us.
We’re anxious.
Burnt out.
Broke.
Trying to fix our mental health inside systems designed to break us.
We’re told to hustle while rent eats our wages.
To stay positive while the world feels unbearable.
To keep going when rest feels impossible.
And while billionaires hijack our media,
buy the narrative,
and decide whose lives matter -
this platform does the opposite.
Season Two
The Imperfect Activist is back - and this season, I’m taking the reins.
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Hellooo, I’m Tash (she/her), a creative, a communicator, and youth climate justice activist from Devon, England. I started as a teenage school striker, walking out of classrooms because the adults in charge weren’t listening. What began on the streets grew into national organising, frontline disruption, and building creative spaces for resistance.
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Eight years on (woah!), I’m now in my 9-5 NGO era and outside of this I’m navigating what it means to build power without burning out - and what happens when the young people who built those grassroots movements grow up.
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Season Two follows the messy evolution of youth activism: burnout and bravery, funding and friction, movement-building, art as resistance, and staying radical inside professional spaces.
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Through honest conversations with young organisers, creatives, and changemakers, we ask:
How do we hold onto our politics when institutions try to soften them?
How do we build power without losing ourselves?
How do we imagine liberation, utilize our skills and creativity in a world that profits from crisis?
Still imperfect.
Still urgent.
Still in the struggle.
New episodes out bi-weekly, Mondays at 6pm.
Season 2 launches March 16th.
Why a Podcast? Why Now?
I hear you. When I started this “activist” thing at 16, I thought by 24 I’d be done.
We’d have won. The adults would have listened. The emergency would have been treated like one.
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Instead, the crises have deepened. The headlines have hardened. And a lot of us who began as teenagers with placards are now adults trying to figure out how to keep going, realising the picture is a whole lot bigger (and intersectional!) than our first simple slogan: the planets on fire and we’ve got to do something.
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So - why a podcast? Why now? I hear you. If my angry teenage self was listening she’d probably say ‘shut up, stop talking and do something’ with perhaps a couple of rude words included but we like to keep it fairly PG round here now.
Because we’re in a strange in-between.
Too experienced to be called “the future.” Too young to be taken seriously by power. Old enough to be tired. Young enough to refuse to give up.
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Movements don’t just need protests - they need reflection. They need space to process burnout, grief, strategy, contradiction. They need somewhere to say the quiet parts out loud:
that we’re exhausted.
that we’re broke.
that we’re scared.
that we still care.
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A podcast creates room for that.
It slows things down in a world that wants hot takes and outrage. It lets us speak in full sentences, not captions. It builds connection. Archive. Political education. It connects the personal to the structural. And it feels urgent because our generation is growing up inside overlapping crises - climate, genocide, economic instability, rising authoritarianism - while being told to stay productive, optimistic and still making sure we’re paying the bills!
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We need spaces that don’t gaslight us.
Spaces that don’t sanitise activism.
Spaces where we can be strategic and human.
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This podcast exists because the struggle didn’t end at 24. Because winning is slower than we were promised. Because the revolution wasn’t built in a day. And because if we’re going to keep fighting for a liveable world,
we deserve somewhere to talk about what that actually costs - and what it might still make possible.
And hey, you never know, you listen on your morning commute and decide to join us. Just maybe. And that’s a win for me.
How did it start?
This podcast was inspired by the words of Clover Hogan: “We don’t need 100 perfect activists - we need millions of imperfect ones.”
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It began as three girls from different countries in conversation with young women across the world - carving out space to talk honestly about activism, burnout, the job market, solidarity, and what it means to grow up in a world in crisis. We needed somewhere to process it all. Somewhere imperfect. Somewhere real.
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But building something across time zones, alongside school, work, organising and life, wasn’t easy. Like many young activists, we were passionate - and stretched thin. We burnt out. We struggled to balance it all. And sustaining the project became part of the very conversation we were having.
That experience shaped the podcast as much as any episode did.
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The ethos hasn’t changed - but it has evolved.
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Now, for Season Two, I’m taking the podcast forward. With more experience, more honesty about what activism really costs, and a deeper commitment to building something sustainable.
It’s still about solidarity.
Still about imperfection.
Still about figuring it out in real time.
Who's this podcast for?
You. Because you’ve ended up in this corner of the internet. Maybe you woke up feeling heavy this morning, wanting to do something. Maybe ‘activist’ isn’t a word you’d associate with yourself or maybe it is. But you do want to feel a little less alone in this, whatever this is. You’re here now. You’ve shown up. That’s more than enough.