Carers Week: The Lived Experiences and Recognition of Black and Minoritised Ethnic Carers

During Carers Week, we are spotlighting the lived experiences of Black and Minoritised Ethnic carers, drawing on research from Carers UK.   

An unpaid care is anyone who cares for someone who is ill, disabled, older, has mental health concerns or is experiencing addiction and is not paid by a company or local authority to do this. Primarily, this is a family member or friend.  

This article was inspired by Lizzie Damilola Blackburn’s book The Re-Write, which explores the attitudes toward carers in minoritised communities — those who keep everything going on behind the scenes, often with little recognition or support.  

As we mark Carers Week 2025, let’s commit to listening to carers, amplifying their voices, and ensuring that care, regardless of language, culture, or gender, is valued and supported. 

Unseen and Undervalued 

Ditipriya Acharya  

The COVID-19 pandemic brought the vital work of carers into sharp focus, exposing and intensifying the pressures they already face. Before the pandemic, unpaid carers were already providing extraordinary support to loved ones, often at a great personal cost. COVID-19 dramatically increased pressure. Lockdowns and the closure of support services meant carers had to take on even more responsibility, frequently without breaks or external help. According to Carers UK, 81% of unpaid carers reported providing more care than before lockdown, with 78% stating that the needs of the person they cared for had increased.  

Isolation, always a challenge for carers, became even more acute during lockdown. Carers Trust found that 69% of young carers and young adult carers felt less connected to others since the pandemic began, while 66% felt more stressed. Research consistently shows that carers experienced heightened loneliness, anxiety, and depression, with many feeling abandoned and close to burnout. This feeling was especially prevalent amongst BME (Black and Minoritised Ethnic) carers. As one Pakistani carer described, “I feel overwhelmed and anxious. My eating disorders have returned, and I feel like it’s going to impact me and my family for a long time,” highlighting how caring responsibilities during the pandemic have forced existing mental health struggles to resurface and can have long-term effects. Carers of people with complex needs, those who lost formal support, and women were especially vulnerable to poor mental health outcomes.   

When care is not named, it is not valued. The cultural silence intrinsic to many BME communities further this feeling of non-recognition. A mixed-race carer described their experience during the pandemic as, “Carers have been left behind. As a carer, the impact of this situation has made me feel like I am not a valued member of society.” For many BME communities, care work is deeply embedded in cultural expectations. The concept of a “carer” as a distinct role often does not exist in many languages or cultural frameworks. For example, there is no direct translation for “carer” in Bangla, reflecting a broader absence of recognition for care as a separate, valued activity.  

Instead ‘care’ is seen as familial duty. In many communities, seeking help outside the family, such as from care homes or formal services, is stigmatised or even considered shameful. Complaining about the burden of care, or discussing mental health struggles, is taboo, further isolating carers and preventing them from accessing support.  

Systemic barriers make these cultural challenges even harder to overcome. Language is a major obstacle: people with limited English proficiency report greater difficulties accessing healthcare, poorer experiences, and more errors when informal translators (often family members) are used instead of professionals. Even when services exist, carers may be reluctant to use them due to mistrust, previous negative experiences, or a belief that care is a private family matter, a burden mostly carried by the women in the family.  

Invisible Burdens 

Christabelle Quaynor 

It is a fundamental fact that humans will require care at some point in their lives. But across all cultures, one thing remains consistent: care is seen as a women’s work emotionally, physically and socially.   

Women are often expected to take on emotional support roles. In the UK, the most common industry for female employment is the human health and social work sector. From childhood socialisation, to historical norms and the traditional division of domestic labour, it is no surprise that women remain overrepresented in underpaid care work and hidden labour.   

In England and Wales, 10% of women and girls are providing unpaid care.   For people with intersecting identities, such as LGBTQ+ carers and Black and Minoritised Ethnic women, these responsibilities come with compounded risks: poorer health outcomes, lack of recognition, isolation, challenges linked to migration, and finances, access to benefits and insecure employment. Applying an intersectional lens helps us to understand how these overlapping factors deepen inequality and strain the fabric of our society. 

The cost-of-living has hit unpaid carers hard, especially those from Black and Minoritised Ethnic communities. One Pakistani carer shared:   

“I have cut down on expenses to the bare minimum just so I can stay out of debt. I make ends meet with great difficulty and we don’t spend any money on leisure or relaxing” .  

Carers UK found that 37% of Black and Minoritised Ethnic carers had to cut down on essentials like food or heating, compared to 33% of white carers.

Since the pandemic, not much has changed. Carers continue to face a mental health crisis. Many are selflessly providing care at the cost of their well-being, with some even cancelling medical appointments because of their caring responsibilities.     

Unpaid carers need meaningful long-term breaks, not just for mental health support but for their autonomy. Without adequate services, many carers are left with feelings of hopelessness, fear, and dread and in need of support. One carer shared, “My freedom to do what I want, when I want is seriously affected. A carer has little or no freedom and for anyone who is independently minded, this has an impact on their mental health.”  

We cannot discuss carers without acknowledging the intersection of race, gender, LGBTQ+ identity, age, nationality, language and class – but there is a gap in research and service design. Recognising unpaid carers and the full weight of what they carry must be the starting point. 

Listening to Every Voice 

Jessica Webber  

Carers UK has put forward recommendations which can support this strategy. This includes holding information in local trusted spaces, recruiting volunteers from ethnic minority backgrounds to build trust with local communities, the government investing more in the NHS, especially those health and social services with a deepened understanding of cultural experiences. However, there are some voices we still need to hear.   The recent work of Carers UK sought to address the under-representation of BME individuals in carer-related research. But why does this under-representation matter?

Insufficient representation in research makes it harder for the specific needs of BME carers to be identified. Evidence has shown that the experiences of BME carers are often more challenging than those of their white counterparts (for example, BME carers are more likely to face financial hardship). A partiality in research could result in outcomes and recommendations being skewed in favour of white carers, reinforcing existing structural inequalities.   

As the term carer has no direct translation, this could be a huge problem for research. This highlights a bias towards English-language frameworks in research which may exclude or misrepresent minority ethnic communities. For minority ethnic communities, many of the reported barriers to participating in research are the same barriers that prevent them from accessing services. Concerns around language barriers remain a significant hurdle. When interviewed, some carers devalued their own intelligence, citing language as a limiting factor to their contributions to research. One carer was quoted saying ‘I can only read Urdu, so I’m not very educated, I haven’t got any skills’. As previous research has often not catered to BME communities, some carers are also sceptical that partaking in studies will lead to practical improvements and short-term benefits. Instead, research becomes another diversion from their immediate needs.  

Despite this, BME carers are important stakeholders in research outcomes. To ensure their needs are met, they must be involved at a policy level. This requires integrating cultural considerations into research methods and adapting them to individuals and their communities, as opposed to a blanket approach. More targeted research would also prevent a tendency to generalise and allow us to see the significance of intersectional identities. While we know that women, LGBTQ+ people, and those with health issues are more likely to fulfil the carer role, there is very little research about specific intersectional groups (i.e. BME women).  

Carers, especially women and those from Black and Minoritised Ethnic (BME) communities, carry invisible burdens shaped by race and gender.

True progress means recognising their unique experiences, addressing intersectional inequalities, and ensuring every carer’s voice is valued and heard.  

Special thanks to Melanie Crew, Research and Policy Manager at Carers UK, for her time and insights.  

Carers UK has published several useful briefings to support Black and Minoritised Ethnic carers, LGBTQ+ carers, and carers of faith. These can be used by services, employers, and policymakers to help improve support and recognition.

1. Supporting Black, Asian and minority ethnic carers: A good practice briefing | Carers UK 

2. The experiences of ethnic minority carers – updated briefing | Carers UK.   

3. A guide for LGBTQ+ Carers | Carers UK 

4. The experiences of carers of faith | Carers UK