Girls Rock Aotearoa proudly presents To the Front, a transformative journey from a globally replicated camp programme to an authentically Aotearoa charity, responsive to the growing and changing needs of their community.

Girls Rock Aotearoa is more than just a music programme — it is a movement. The experience empowers young women, trans, intersex, takatāpui, queer, and gender-diverse youth aged 12–17 to form bands, learn instruments, attend workshops, and write original songs, all culminating in a live performance for friends and whānau.

The true magic lies in the confidence, empowerment, and sense of belonging that participants gain along the way. Their pathways programme provides mentorship opportunities, nurturing the next generation of programme organisers and leaders in the music community.

Next Gen has proudly supported Girls Rock Aotearoa since 2019, contributing over $200,000 in recognition of the programme’s unique ability to centre the wellbeing of our rangatahi while offering genuine, fun, and inclusive opportunities to learn, grow, and flourish.

We sat down with CEO Eliana Gray for a Q&A to explore the vision behind the programme and the work that shapes the To the Front experience.

Q. How has Girls Rock Aotearoa evolved as an organisation from where it began to where it is today?

So, as an organisation, when we started in 2017, we were completely volunteer based, everyone was donating their time, and we started with just one programme in Tāmaki Makaurau.

We then expanded into Te Whanganui-a-Tara (Wellington) in 2019, Te Papaioea (Palmerston North) in 2022, and Kirikiriroa (Hamilton) in 2024, so that alone was an intense level of growth, opening a new programme almost every year. We don’t do that anymore, we do it slower and aim to spend more time building foundations in a region before we launch, which is what I am doing now in Ōtepoti (Dunedin).

A big shift has been moving from volunteers to a paid structure with nine part-time management staff​across five centers, with four full-scale holiday programmes. We now pay ​all contractors from CEO to instrument tutors $35 per hour​ and we hope to continue to increase that.

This aligns with our mission to create resilient, sustainable communities by ensuring our facilitators are valued and not burnt out. Our five-year goal is to enable our team to balance ​To The Front ​work with their personal artistic practice. It’s sacred that our mentors are both youth workers and artists, modeling for our rangatahi that creativity is essential to a sustainable life. We want to show them that you don’t have to sacrifice art to thrive, and that joy and creativity are fundamental to being human.

New workshop streams

In terms of our specific programmes, a significant evolution has been the introduction of our electronic production stream. We’ve expanded beyond traditional analog bands so participants can now learn audio production during instrument tuition and join bands working entirely in digital audio workspaces.

Pathways beyond programme

We’ve also developed our pathways programme at select To The Front programmes​​, which emerged organically after seeing young people who had either attended multiple times or were aging out but weren’t ready for staff roles. This creates a sustainable progression: youth participant → pathways programme → volunteer → mentor → coordinator → management team. We’re already seeing success with participants who’ve been with us since they were 13 and are now becoming gear coordinators or going from mentoring in live sound engineering and now, they’re starting to do live sound engineering for bands.

“So that is a huge joy, seeing these systems we created, working as we intended.”

Ultimately, we’re building sustainability and working ourselves out of a job as they take the reins.

Community safety and people-focused approach

This year and beyond, we just want to continue doing what we do really well and make sure that we stay incredibly people-centred and that our outcomes are people-focused. It’s not about “OK, how much stuff can we do”, it’s like, “how can we make sure that everybody’s having the best time ever and feels so, so supported in what we already do”. Again, we are focused on sustainability, so we can reach a point where people are able to do this as their main job.

Q. Could you share the story behind the shift from ‘Girls Rock Aotearoa’ to ‘To the Front’ and what inspired this change?

Sure! The name “Girls Rock” comes from a global movement that began in California in the 1980s, rooted in the Riot Grrrl scene. We are part of the International Girls Rock Alliance, which is a beautiful worldwide network. For the first few years, we kept the name “Girls Rock Aotearoa,” but we started to notice it wasn’t appropriate.

“We’re not all girls and we don’t just rock”

Some young people didn’t apply because they didn’t feel the programme was for them, even though it was. The word “rock” was also limiting – people assumed they had to play rock music to join, which isn’t the case. So, we adopted “To The Front” a name that also comes from the Riot Grrrl movement. It refers to the practice at punk gigs of encouraging women and gender minorities to move to the front of the stage, challenging the typical male-dominated space.

Q. So how do you manage the two names now?

Legally, our charity is still called “Girls Rock Aotearoa” because changing it is a complex and expensive process. Plus, there is a desire to retain that name in honour of our connection to the international alliance. For our public-facing programmes, we use “To the Front.” So, for example, in Ōtepoti, we’d say “Girls Rock Aotearoa presents To the Front Ōtepoti.” – it’s a bit of a mouthful but it represents us.

Q. Do you have any stories or examples that show the impact of this more inclusive approach?

Definitely. From a data perspective, after we changed the programme name, we saw a noticeable increase in participation from trans, intersex, and gender-diverse young people. Many who wanted to apply before but didn’t until this new language made it clear they were welcome.
We also saw more non-feminine presenting participants joining. That is so important because even explicitly queer or non-binary spaces can still feel unwelcoming to people who present more masculinely. Our intention had always been to be inclusive, but the name change made that intention visible and accessible.

And while this is a specific story, this kind of transformation happens every​ To The Front​, where you have a young person arrive at the start of the week withdrawn, avoiding eye contact, clearly anxious, and you can tell that they have been moving through life, feeling incredibly uncomfortable. Midway through the week, they approached us and asked us to use a different name and pronouns for them. We supported them and asked how they wanted that to be used, was it just at ​To The Front​ or outside too and work with them to understand their boundaries.

From that point on, the blossoming just continued. By the end of the week, this particular person I am thinking of showed up in a bold, expressive outfit, full of confidence, chatting with others, and giving high fives. They got on stage as the lead singer of a band and introduced a song they wrote about their best friend and their feelings and then just rocked out,

“That to me, is the To The Front experience”,

creating a space where young people are asked who they are, listened to, and respected. For many, it’s the first time they’ve felt truly seen. We hear from parents every year saying their child finally feels like they have found their people. ​That’s​ why I cry every year.

Q. I noticed this caring and considerate approach, where the young one’s lead, and you journey with them, at their own pace. Is this an intentional way you operate or structure the programmes?

Absolutely. Yes. I think you hit on something really specific to us. Young people often exist in institutions where they have little power or voice, especially those who are already marginalised. That can lead to a buildup of disempowering experiences, making them feel invisible or worthless. Our goal is to counter that by creating a space where power stays in their hands.

That means being really mindful about how we interact. We always ask for consent, offer choices, and never assume. We understand that some young people may not have the language to express themselves right away, especially if they’ve never been asked before. So, we approach everything with gentleness, patience, and respect.

Q. How does this approach support both young people and adults?

We’re creating a space where healing can happen. Many of our mentors and staff have also experienced disempowerment in hierarchical or capitalist work environments. A big part of my role is helping them adjust to a space where they genuinely feel respected and have a say. That includes unlearning people-pleasing behaviour and recognising that their needs matter.

We also focus heavily on accessibility, especially for neurodivergent people. A large group in our community, participants and adults, are neurodivergent, so we have adapted our programmes accordingly. That includes offering multiple ways to receive information verbal, visual, written, conversational, and creating various sensory environments.

Q. Can you give examples of these environments and how you make the programme space generally more accessible?

We have quiet, low-sensory rooms with soft lighting, cool temperatures, and calming tools like breathing guides. We recognised a need for those who weren’t in crisis or requiring full welfare support (which we do have trained professionals for), but a space for those who just needed to decompress. So, we introduced a craft space as a mid-level sensory option, perfect for taking a break, stocked with supplies and supportive adults always present.

We also train mentors to recognise when participants are hitting an energy wall. Instead of pushing through, we encourage rest, whether that’s a snack, fresh air, or a nap. This approach is rooted in nervous system regulation and polyvagal theory, which is especially important for neurodivergent folks but beneficial for everyone.

We believe creativity thrives in calm, joyful environments. There’s a dominant mindset that says you have to suffer to achieve something, and that struggle is necessary. We reject that. What if you could just have a really nice time and still create something amazing? That’s the energy we’re cultivating.

Q. I loved the example you gave of identifying and responding to the need for an intermediary comfort space. Do you find it easy to adapt the programme as needs evolve?

It’s something we’re really proud of, and hold as a core value, staying dynamic and flexible – we’re always open to change and new ways of doing things. That openness helps keep the organisation accessible and inclusive.

When someone new wants to connect or work with us, we don’t just put them in a place; we ask, “What are you into? What do you love to do?” Everyone brings a unique skill set and perspective, and we want them to feel like a whole person, not just a worker delivering outcomes.

We take a human-centred approach, that helps us stay agile. There’s no ego getting in the way of change.

“Everyone’s focused on creating the best experience possible, especially for young people. So, when something needs to shift, the response is usually, “OK, cool, let’s do it.”

That mindset is applied at every level. We’re constantly learning and growing; changing governance structures if they’re not working and then changing them again. Even after eight years, we still see ourselves as being in a kind of ‘infancy’ stage, which means constant learning is just part of who we are.

Q. Is your intake process for programmes first-come, first-served?

For our holiday programmes, yes, they’re mostly first-come, first-served. But over time, we have added some measures to our programmes to make sure it’s not just returning participants filling all the spots. We hold space for newcomers and track how often people attend, especially in centres where we’ve been running longer.

We also offer scholarship spaces, which are filled separately from the general application pool. Age brackets vary depending on the programme: youth participants are typically 12-17, while our pathways programme is for ages 16–20. Workshops outside of school holidays are more flexible – like the one I’m running soon, which is open to high school and university-aged participants.

We try not to impose rigid structures. Instead, we tailor each programme to the specific place and community. That’s part of our anti-capitalist and decolonial approach, being grounded in the local context. When I visit a new venue, I’m not thinking, “How do I replicate our existing model here?” I’m asking, “What do we have, and what can we create from that?”

That openness is a big strength of our organisation. There is no one saying, “It has to be done this way.” Everything is a conversation.

Q. How have you established your ways of working within the cultural context of your organisation? Can you share some examples of how Te Ao Māori is incorporated into your programmes?

From the beginning, it’s been essential that our team and participants reflect the diversity of this country. We really prioritise inclusivity not just in who we hire, but in how we create a welcoming environment.

Culturally, we embed Te Ao Māori throughout our programmes. Every day begins with a waiata, and we observe tikanga in various ways. We run taonga pūoro workshops where participants create and play their own instruments, which they often bring into our morning gatherings. We also ensure our guest artists reflect the richness of Aotearoa’s communities.

In 2023, our national management team undertook a year-long cultural competency journey with ​Khali-Meari Materoa​​, ​a past facilitator. This wasn’t just about learning tikanga Māori, it was about understanding how to develop our own tikanga that is grounded in respect, context, and place.

We didn’t want to adopt practices without deep understanding, so we explored what “doing what’s right” looks like in each space we work in.

Our work is rooted in the pursuit of indigenous sovereignty and collective liberation. That’s our ideological foundation. We also use the Mana Taiohi framework, a youth development model grounded in Te Ao Māori, which we’ve been training in over the past three years. It’s helped us articulate and deepen practices we were already doing, focusing on how our interactions support each young person’s mana and empowerment.

Q. Can you talk a bit about how the Next Gen Fund has supported GRA and impacted your ability to achieve your mission?

It has been absolutely life changing. Moving from a one-year to a three-year funding model has freed up an enormous amount of time, energy, and stress. Funding takes up a huge chunk of our resources, and as we have grown, now supporting around 160 contractors and a core team of nine, it’s become even more critical to have stable, reliable support.

The multi-year funding from Tindall Foundation’s Next Gen Fund has allowed us to focus on what matters: paying people fairly, increasing hours, and reducing burnout. Personally, I am contracted for 10 hours a week but often work 20–30, so having that financial backing helps us move toward sustainability.

What is also incredible is how human the relationship is. The flexibility and accessibility and being able to have real conversations without needing to mask or perform professionalism is huge, especially in a sector with high neurodiversity. It saves so much emotional and mental bandwidth.

The size of the grant makes a big difference. Many other funds are small, $2,000 here, $10,000 there but require the same amount of admin: research, applications, reporting. Our funding team only has a combined eight hours a week, so having a larger, more flexible fund like this is a game-changer.

The flexibility in how we use the funds is just as important. We’re trusted to make decisions based on what’s needed in the moment, which allows us to stay dynamic and responsive. If something changes, we don’t have to panic, we can just talk to you, explain the shift, and move forward.

“That kind of trust and partnership is rare and deeply, deeply appreciated.”

Q. Beyond time and resource constraints, what are some of the deeper challenges you face in the wider funding space?

One of the biggest challenges is the emotional toll, especially the pressure to people-please. As someone who’s autistic, navigating the unspoken social rules of funding spaces can be incredibly stressful. The whole process often requires masking, which is exhausting and unsustainable, especially in a sector with high neurodiversity.

Being in a position where you constantly must articulate your needs, justify your existence, and appeal to people who hold financial power over your work is draining. And it’s not just about me; it’s about maintaining the integrity of the organisation while operating within hierarchical systems that weren’t really built for us.

That’s why the flexibility and humanity of the Next Gen Fund and Tindall Foundation are so impactful. You treat us like partners. We can be honest, we don’t have to perform, and we’re trusted to use the funding in ways that make sense to us. That kind of trust-based philanthropy is rare and powerful.

It also allows us to stay dynamic. If something changes, we don’t have to panic or jump through hoops, we can just have a conversation. That responsiveness is huge. It keeps us focused on work, not on navigating bureaucracy.

And practically speaking, the size of the grant matters too. Many other funds are small but require the same amount of admin. With a tiny funding team and limited hours, that’s a huge burden. So having a larger, flexible fund that trusts us to lead our own mahi, it’s not just helpful, it’s transformative.

Q. And for your people, your participants, if you could give them one superpower, what would it be?

Community, because we are always stronger together. That’s where all meaningful change comes from. We know, both experientially and historically, that creating real transformation within existing systems – especially ones rooted in racism and capitalism -is incredibly difficult.

So instead of trying to change those systems from within, we focus on building resilient communities that can become their own systems. The idea is that as these communities grow stronger, they begin to devalue the old structures. Eventually, we won’t need to fight the status quo; we’ll have created something better.

“At To the Front and Girls Rock Aotearoa, we’re confronting some dark realities. But our approach is to flood the space with light.”

We’re not trying to wrestle the shadows; we’re creating so much joy, connection, and brightness that the shadows simply can’t survive. That’s the superpower I’d give our participants: the ability to build and be part of communities so powerful and joyful that they transform everything around them.

Q. And to wrap things up, does GRA have it’s own theme song?

Oh my gosh, kind of, yes! We actually have a few that feel like theme songs in different ways.
The most official one is our waiata, gifted to us in 2023 by ​Khali-Meari Materoa​. It’s called “AUEIO”, which means “I am creation, creation is me.” It’s incredibly meaningful to us. We open and close every programme with it across all centres, and we even use it in our management team meetings. It’s a beautiful expression of who we are and what we stand for.

Thank you so much Eliana, we are incredibly grateful for the work you do, your amazing stories and your precious time to share them with us.