What we cleaned up:

Just a few crumbs and a scattering of game pieces that somehow migrated under everything.
Considering the weather tantrum happening outside, we’ll call that a win.

---

Best excuse of the night:

“Well so about the sweets.”
Indeed. Somewhere mysterious.

---

Best moment:

Discovering that Cards Against Humanity: Kids Edition is officially the funniest thing that has ever happened in this Cub Pack.

---

Outdoor Night Cancelled… So We Went Full Indoor Chaos Mode

It was meant to be an outdoor session.

But the rain?
The rain wasn’t regular rain.
It was biblical, sideways, personal, aggressive rain.

So we called it:
Outdoor cancelled. Indoor takeover activated.

Good thing we had a giant box of board games donated a while back originally saved for winter,
but deployed tonight as our emergency entertainment arsenal.

---

Board Games Night Unexpectedly Epic

We unleashed the box.

It contained:

• classics
• chaos
• strategy games
• noisy games
• games with pieces we will never find again
• and, most importantly…

Cards Against Humanity KIDS EDITION

The Cubs went absolutely feral with joy.

This game is:

• pure nonsense
• maximum silliness
• zero filter (but child-safe)
• peak Cub humour
• AND the fastest way to make leaders cry-laugh on a rainy Monday

One Cub played the card
“A dinosaur in a tutu doing ballet”
and another Cub ACTUALLY RECREATED IT physically.

We may never recover.

Another Cub yelled,
“THIS IS BETTER THAN DODGEBALL!”
which is the highest compliment possible.

Board games night is now officially a winter AND rainy-day staple.

---

The Big Kit Drop We Are Ready for Summer Camp

This week, something huge happened.

We purchased:

• 24 sleeping bags
• 24 roll mats
• 24 backpacks
• 24 wash kits
• 24 water bottles
• 24 torches
• 24 camp pillows
• 24 raincoats

Every single Cub.
Fully kitted out.

No scrambling.
No borrowing from two other groups like last time.
No worrying that someone doesn’t have enough.
No panicking over missing gear.

Nobody gets left out because of money.
Nobody gets left behind because of circumstance.
Everyone is equal at camp.

This is massive.

One parent said,
“I didn’t know how we were going to afford the kit… thank you.”
That’s why we do it.

---

Summer Camp Is Next Weekend

The excitement levels are:

• high
• chaotic
• loud
• contagious
• slightly terrifying

Cubs are already asking:

• “Can I sleep next to my friend?”
• “Can I bring Custard the Rat?” (still no) (he came anyway)
• “What if a fox eats my shoes?”
• “Do we get hot chocolate?” (yes)
• “Can we do everything we did last camp times 10?”

Leaders are preparing.
Sort of.
Emotionally.
Barely.

---

Then… It’s Summer Holidays

We’re almost at the end of our first ever whole term.
Eighteen weeks of:

• growth
• chaos
• tears
• breakthroughs
• belonging
• leaders improving
• children transforming
• community shifting
• magic happening

Once camp is over, we head into the summer break but honestly, the Cubs are already planning how often they can “accidentally” bump into leaders around the estate.

---

Week Eighteen Verdict

• Rain: brutal
• Games night: unexpectedly legendary
• Cards Against Humanity (Kids Edition): peak comedy
• Camp kit: DONE and beautiful
• Leaders: ready-ish
• Cubs: SO READY
• Summer Camp: NEXT WEEK
• Holidays: approaching fast
• The Pack: thriving in every possible way

What a term.
What a Pack.
What a journey.
Summer Camp.
It. Is. Happening.

What we cleaned up:

Twenty tins of paint blocking the fire exit.
TWENTY.
Not ten.
Not “a few.”
TWENTY.

Why were they there?
Who put them there?
Why were half of them open?

We will never know.
We simply cleared them, sighed deeply, and carried on.

---

Best excuse of the night:

“Well I needed a wee….”

Hard to argue, but please not outside.

---

Best moment:

Austin hugged his Sixer and whispered,
“My friend.”
And the whole world softened for a second.

---

Tonight: Pioneering Night!

We unleashed ropes, knots, staves, lashings
and the Cubs entered full Bushcraft Mode™.

“Pioneering” translates in Cub language to:

• tying everything to everything
• hitting things with staves (we stopped that)
• making knots that no Boy’s Own manual has ever described
• shouting “I KNOW WHAT I’M DOING!”
• discovering they do not know what they’re doing
• tying more knots anyway

It was chaotic.
It was noisy.
It was absolute magic.

---

We Built… A Tower

Not a small tower.
Not a symbolic tower.

A real, honest-to-goodness, free-standing pioneering tower
that somehow remained upright despite:

• one Cub tying everything in granny knots
• another Cub deciding diagonal lashings were “too diagonal”
• one leader quietly redoing every joint behind them
• several Cubs “testing stability” by poking it repeatedly
• engineering that could best be described as “optimistic”

But in the end?

IT STOOD.
Tall. Proud.
Wonky in the way that only a Cub-built structure can be.
An architectural masterpiece of sheer determination.

One Cub declared,
“We have built THE TOWER OF POWER.”
We did not correct him.

---

Austin & His Sixer A Moment of Pure Gold

Halfway through the night, something small but enormous happened.

Austin new Cub, autistic, gentle-hearted, still finding his place finished his knots, walked over to his Sixer, wrapped his arms around him, and said:

“My friend.”

Just like that.
No fanfare.
No prompt.
Just trust.

The Sixer froze, then smiled the biggest smile a child can smile without exploding.

Leaders melted.
Slightly cried.
Pretended they weren’t crying.

Because this is what Cubs is for.
Not knots.
Not towers.
Not badges.

Belonging.
Real, actual belonging.

Austin found his friend.
And his friend found him right back.

---

Week Fifteen Verdict

• Fire exit: liberated from 20 paint tins.
• Knots: chaotic but effective.
• Lashings: enthusiastic and occasionally correct.
• Tower: gravity-defying masterpiece.
• Austin: thriving.
• Leaders: exhausted but full of joy.

Every week, these children surprise us.
Every week, they grow.
Every week, we realise this Pack is more than we ever dreamed it could be.

Bring on Week Sixteen, whatever madness it holds.

What we cleaned up:

Broken beer bottles.
Lots of them.
Sparkling like the world’s saddest fairy lights outside the hall.

And… someone set fire to rubbish by the front door,
so we’re now officially using the side door only,
which makes us feel like we’re sneaking into our own building.

Just another Monday on the estate.

---

Best excuse of the night:

“Well my uniform is at school…”

No further comment. No idea.

---

Best moment:

A tie this week:

1. Tommy’s 9th birthday cake, which ended up on at least three faces,
   and
2. Our MP crying in the middle of our Cub Pack for the right reasons.

---

Happy Birthday, Tommy!

Tommy arrived glowing with excitement because he is now officially 9 years old.

We had cake.
We had singing.
We had a moment where three Cubs tried to blow out the candles for him.
We had more icing on hair, hands, and hoodies than on the cake itself.

Tommy’s grin could have powered the estate for a week.

---

Special Guest: Our Local MP

Tonight we welcomed our local MP and we weren’t sure what to expect.

Some MPs turn up, smile politely, say “community is important,”
take a photo, and disappear back into the Westminster mist.

Not this one.

He walked into a hall full of laughter, noise, broken-glass cleanup, and estate reality
and he didn’t flinch.
He talked to the leaders,
watched the Cubs play,
and then sat with the kids in small groups like he had all the time in the world.

Then Isabella told her story. Trigger. This WILL make you cry.

---

Isabella’s Story And One MP Who Actually Listened

In the calmest, bravest voice you can imagine,
Isabella said:

“I live in emergency accommodation
because we had to run away from my dad when he got drunk.”

The hall went quiet.
The MP went still.
Leaders froze mid-cleaning.
Even the usually unstoppable Cubs paused.

This is the kind of reality our kids deal with.
Not small problems.
Not “naughty behaviour.”
But big, life-shaking, safety-level stuff.

And the MP this professional, political man
had tears in his eyes.

Actual tears.
Not show tears.
Not pretend “I care deeply about issues” tears.

Real ones.

He said quietly:

“You’re very brave, Isabella.”
And she smiled a small, proud, powerful smile.

You can’t plan moments like that.

---

And Then Something Extraordinary Happened

After he left, my phone buzzed.

A message from him to donate to us.
From him.

£2,000.
His own money.
No fanfare.
No photo op.
No conditions.

Just a message saying:

“This is amazing.
Please use this for the kids.”

This is why this blog is anonymous.
Because this wasn’t a publicity stunt.
This was a human being doing something quietly good for children who need it.

Two thousand pounds.
Just like that.
Because he saw what we’re trying to do and he believed in it.

---

Why This Matters So Much

These kids deserve the world.

But what they get is:

• broken glass outside their meeting place,
• fire by the doorway,
• trauma that should never be theirs,
• poverty making daily life harder than anyone realises,
• and systems that don’t catch them quickly enough.

Yet in spite of everything,
they come to Cubs and shine.

They show kindness.
They look after new Cubs.
They celebrate birthdays.
They tell their stories honestly.
They find belonging.
They grow.

And every now and then,
someone from outside our estate sees that
really sees it
and steps forward to help.

That’s what happened tonight.

---

Week Fourteen Verdict

• Fire by the front door: dealt with.
• Broken glass: swept.
• Tommy is 9!
• Our MP cried (and we adore him for it).
• Isabella showed bravery beyond her years.
• We received an unexpected gift that will change lives.
• The Pack continues to thrive in ways no one could have predicted.

Fourteen weeks in,
and this isn’t just a Cub Pack anymore.

It’s a community.
A refuge.
A second chance.
A family.

And we are only just beginning. And then the Scouts started to arrive. Just four of them, but they are here!

What we cleaned up:

Used needles by the front door.
Again.
A grim reminder of what our estate kids walk past every day.

And by the fire exit?
A pile of… something.
Food?
Once-food?
Food-adjacent matter?
Unclear.
Unpleasant.
Removed immediately.

This is the reality of where we meet and exactly why we do meet.

---

Best excuse of the night:

“I didn’t cheat… I was just being cleverer.”

Hard to argue with the logic.
Wrong… but confident.

---

Best moment:

The leaders stepped up,
the Pack had a blast,
and I wasn’t even there.

That’s actual progress.

---

I Was Ill… And the Leaders Took Over

For the first time since we started this wild, wonderful council estate Cub Pack,
I wasn’t there.

I was at home ill, wrapped in a blanket like a Victorian child recovering from “the vapours.”

But the BEST thing happened:

The leaders ran the night.
Successfully.
Brilliantly.
Together.

No panic.
No stress messages.
No collapse into chaos.

Just a team stepping up and saying,
“We’ve got this.”

And they did.

---

Games Night Chaos With Purpose

The Cubs walked in soaked from the rain (ALL of them),
the leaders already looked damp,
and the hall smelled like wet coats and determination.

Tonight’s games included:

1. Dodgeball (Obviously)

The unofficial religion of Cubs.
Every child becomes a gladiator.
Every leader becomes a target.

One Cub said,
“It’s not dodgeball unless someone falls over dramatically.”

Accurate.

2. Buzzy Bees (Courtesy of Kush)

Kush ran a game involving buzzing, flapping, and a surprising amount of screaming.

The Cubs LOVED it.
Leaders pretended to love it.
Neighbors probably heard it.

3. Stuck in the Mud

Classic.
Chaotic.
High cardio.
Low success rate for escapees.

One Cub managed to get stuck three times before the game even properly started.

---

Cubs Have Spoken: Games Night Every Half Term

At the end of the night the Cubs announced:

“We want a games night EVERY half term!”

Unanimous.
Loud.
Non-negotiable.

So that’s happening now.

Because when the kids ask for something wholesome, joyful, and active?
We say yes.

Even if it means leaders needing physio.

---

Estate Reality Check

It’s important to be honest about the backdrop we operate in:

• Used needles by the door.
• Someone’s food (??) by the fire exit.
• Currently in a “Special Measures” zone to combat antisocial behaviour.
• So far two Cubs have paid their subs….

This is why this Pack matters.
This is why the leaders show up.
This is why the Cubs keep coming back.

We’re a bright, noisy, joyful space in a place that doesn’t always feel safe or cared for.

---

Tommy’s Ankle Incident

Tommy attempted what he described as “a sick move” during dodgeball.
Gravity disagreed.

He went down dramatically Oscar-worthy holding his ankle.

Cold compress applied.
A few minutes of rest.
Back in the game.

Tommy resilience score: 10/10
Tommy acrobatics score: 0/10
Tommy enthusiasm score: infinite

---

**The Rain.

Oh God, the rain.**

It was raining when the leaders arrived.
It was raining during the session.
It was raining when the Cubs left.
It is possibly still raining as you read this.

Every Cub looked like a damp gremlin.
Every coat weighed 4 stone.
One Cub announced,
“Our roof leaks into my bedroom.” So we are going to see if we can help.

One said “I had enough where’s summer?”

Same, mate.
Same.

---

Week Eleven Verdict

• Leaders ran the Pack like absolute heroes.
• Cubs had a brilliant night full of movement and laughter.
• The estate threw its usual challenges at us and we handled them.
• Tommy survived his stunt work.
• We all got rained on.
• And we learned something important:

We’re not just a Cub Pack now.
We’re a team.

A team that can run the session without me.
A team that supports each other.
A team that keeps showing up, rain or needles or chaos or not.

Week Twelve… let’s go.

What we cleaned up:

Noodles. On every surface known to man.
Noodles on chairs.
Noodles on the floor.
Noodles in hair.
Noodles inside a shoe that WAS NOT REMOVED DURING COOKING.

We also discovered a carrot slice on the ceiling.
We are still investigating.

---

Best excuse of the night:

“The pan was too hot so I threw the vegetables at it from far away.”

Innovative?
Yes.
Correct technique?
Absolutely not.

---

Best moment:

Samuel came back.
In a wheelchair.
Grinning like he owned the place.

The Cubs swarmed him like he was a celebrity returning from tour.

One Cub yelled,
“SAM’S BACK! WE CAN START AGAIN!”
And honestly, same.

Remember. Samuel is the boy who had no friends when we started all this.

---

The Bird Houses Are Officially Up!

This morning the estate warden, screwdriver in hand, fluorescent jacket glowing like a beacon of authority installed the Cubs’ bird houses around the estate.

They are:

• colourful
• crooked in extremely charming ways
• enthusiastically painted
• definitely child-made
• already admired by several passing residents

One old lady said,
“It brightens up the place.”
Another said,
“Mine looks like it’s screaming, but I like it.”

The Cubs were buzzing to hear their creations were now officially beautifying the estate.

One Cub said,
“Can we put a camera in one box to watch the eggs.” That’s a nice idea.

We’ve created landlords.
Oops.

---

Samuel’s Return A Real Moment

Samuel rolled in through the doors and the room exploded with excitement.

Some tried to hug him.
Some tried to push the wheelchair.
Some tried to sit in it.
Leaders intervened promptly.

His mum teared up.
A leader teared up (me).
Even Custard the Rat seemed emotionally invested.

Samuel said,
“I’m not missing Cubs again.”
And that was that.

---

Tonight’s Main Event: Our First Cooking Activity

We christened the brand-new electric hobs with a proper cooking night:
Stir fry … Cub style.

This included:

Skills learned:

• chopping veg (mostly safely)
• stirring without flinging the pan across the room
• using tongs responsibly
• identifying which vegetables “look suspicious”
• not licking raw chicken (we got there in the end)

Skills not learned:

• cleaning as you go
• portion control
• not eating half the ingredients during prep

The Cubs each cooked:

1. A portion to eat at Cubs,
2. A portion to take home in a takeaway container.

For some of them, this was the first time they’d ever cooked a proper meal from scratch.

One Cub proudly said,
“I’m feeding my mum tonight.”

Another said,
“Can we do this every week? I want to learn more stuff.”

And there it was…
the spark.

---

A New Idea Begins

Tonight showed us something important:

These kids are desperate to learn how to cook.
Properly.
Confidently.
Healthily.

And so many of our families would benefit from it
from learning cheap, nutritious, simple meals they can recreate at home.

Maybe this isn’t just a one-off.
Maybe this is the start of something new:

• regular hot meals
• cooking skills they can take into adulthood
• food confidence
• fewer empty cupboards at home
• fewer evenings where dinner is “whatever’s left”

Imagine if our Cub Pack becomes the place where estate kids learn to cook better than most adults.

Imagine the impact that could have.

It starts with noodles on the ceiling.
It ends with real-life skills that change lives.

---

Week Ten Verdict

• Bird houses: Installed. Beloved. Slightly wonky. Perfect.
• Samuel: Back, bold, brilliant.
• Stir fry night: A triumph and a near-health-code violation.
• Food plan: Emerging loudly and proudly.
• Leaders: Exhausted but hopeful.

Ten weeks in, and the Pack is becoming something bigger than we ever expected.

We’re not just running meetings anymore.
We’re building skills, building community, and building futures.

One bird house, one Cub, one stir fry at a time.

What we cleaned up:

Paint. Everywhere.
On tables, on chairs, on leaders, on faces, on the floor, on a bird house that now looks like it’s dissolving, and on one Cub who insisted,
“Its not my handprint….”

We also found a paintbrush in a shoe.
Whose shoe? Unknown.
Whose brush? Also unknown.

---

Best excuse of the night:

“I didn’t mean to paint him… he walked into my brush.”

Considering the brush was being swung like a medieval weapon, we have… doubts.

---

Best moment:

Halfway through the session, a laptop pinged and Samuel appeared on Zoom smiling, bandaged, bruised, but very much Samuel.

The hall erupted.

---

Painting the Bird Houses (Chaos With Colour)

This week was Phase Two of the DIY badge:
PAINTING.

The Cubs approached this task with the seriousness of professional decorators and the fine motor control of caffeinated raccoons.

Colour choices included:

• “PINK WITH EVERYTHING”
• “Camouflage but neon”
• “Rainbow but angry”
• “Black because the birds will think it’s spooky”
• “Fortnite Base”
• and “I don’t know what this colour is but it’s the one I want”
• Brown….

Some masterpieces emerged.
Some crimes against woodwork emerged.
All of them are perfect in the eyes of Cub enthusiasm.

Once dry, the bird houses will go up around the estate, bringing a bit of colour, a bit of pride, and a bit of….
“Yes, a child definitely painted that.”

---

Samuel’s Zoom Visit A Moment None of Us Expected

As everyone was painting, a leader set up the laptop.
The screen flicked on.
And there he was:

Samuel, waving from his hospital bed.

During the holidays , he was hit by a car on the estate while playing with friends.
It shook all of us.

Tonight, seeing him smiling even bruised and tired was the highlight of the entire term.

The Cubs shouted,
“SAMMMUUUEEEEEELLLL!”
so loudly the nurse had to poke her head in to see what was happening.

Samuel laughed.
His mum cried.
Leaders cried.
(Secretly. Behind the paint table.)

Then his mum said something that stopped the whole room:

“Sam loves Cubs. He didn’t really have friends before this.
Thank you he feels like he belongs somewhere now.”

And that?
That right there?
That’s why we do this.

Cubs isn’t just badges and bird houses.
It’s a lifeline.
A place where estate kids find safety, friendship, and identity.
A space where they’re valued for who they are, not judged for what they struggle with.

Samuel promised us he’ll be back the moment the doctors allow it.
The Pack will be waiting. In the meantime, the nurses will be wiping paint off the ward.

---

Highlights From the Painting Apocalypse

• One Cub painted their entire bird house black and claimed it was “for goth birds because my sister is goth and she likes black things.”
• Another asked if we could hang theirs “outside Maisie’s window so she can see some joy.”
  (Maisie would complain, but secretly love it.)
• A leader walked around saying, “Please stop painting the table,”
  while the table quietly accepted its new coat.
• Someone asked if Custard the Rat could also have a painted house.
  (Custard politely declined.) Custard has a painted house.

---

The Real Magic Beneath the Paint

Eight weeks in and:

• kids who never spoke are now chatting across the hall
• kids who struggled socially now have friendship groups
• families feel seen and supported
• the estate is starting to notice us
• every Cub feels proud of something they made
• and children who often feel invisible are now absolutely central to something joyful

These bird houses aren’t just for birds.
They’re a message to the estate:

“We are here.
We are building something.
We belong.”

And tonight, seeing Samuel’s face, hearing his mum’s words we knew it’s working.

---

Week Eight:
Paint everywhere.
Friendships strengthened.
A Cub visited from hospital.
A community grew a little closer.

Bring on Week Nine.

What we cleaned up:

A pile of sawdust that absolutely should not have been that big.

We asked, “Who has been sawing without permission?”
Three Cubs pointed at each other.
One pointed at a leader.
One said, “It wasn’t me, I was just breathing near it.”

We also found a screw in someone’s sock.
No follow-up questions were asked.

---

Best excuse of the night:

“I wasn’t messing around… I was PREPARING MYSELF.”

Preparing himself for what?
Unclear.
Possibly battle.
Possibly DIY badge greatness.
Possibly just a dramatic personality.

Either way I respect the confidence.

---

Best moment:

A Cub looking at our freshly unpacked toolkit whispered:

“I WAS BORN FOR THIS JESUS WAS A CARPENTER.”

And honestly?
Based on the way he attacked those nails… possibly yes.

---

Custard the Rat: Official Member of the Pack

Custard arrived wearing the same expression he always has:
“Chaos is beneath me, but I tolerate it.”

The Cubs adore him.
One Cub said, “Custard is my emotional support wodent.”

Custard has seen things.
Custard knows things.
Custard judges us silently from his cage.

A leader gently reminded everyone:
“No, Custard cannot sleep in your hood. No, he cannot help you drill. No, he cannot come to camp unless we risk-assess him as livestock.” UPDATE: Custard came to camp….

---

Tonight’s Main Event: Starting the DIY Badge

Two-week mission.
Maximum chaos.
Unlimited potential for property damage.

We told them:
“We are building bird houses!”

They heard:
“We are doing dangerous wood stuff and should be VERY EXCITED.”

The Bird House Plan:

• minimal sawing
• a little drilling
• LOTS of nails
• even more screws
• zero tolerance for whacking your neighbour’s fingers

Each Cub got a kit.
Each kit had instructions.
No Cub read the instructions.

Naturally.

We were all hands on deck for this one. Cubs separated into teams that will become sixes and a leader and a parent on each team.

---

Highlights From the Woodworking Warzone

• One Cub hammered a nail so enthusiastically it folded into a perfect right angle. Physics we cannot explain.
• Another proudly announced, “MY BIRDHOUSE IS ONE OF THEM MODERN ART!” after assembling it upside down. They’ve been learning about modern at school.
• A leader tried to show them how to drill slowly. The Cubs took this as a challenge and competed to see whose drill made the loudest noise. There is now a hole in the floor.
• One Cub asked if we could build “a house for a fox instead.”
  (We cannot.)
• Tommy carefully lined up every screw in size order… and then forgot why. Kush spoke with mum and Tommy is waiting for an ADHD appointment. Expected waiting time is four years. We will discuss this later.
• Someone attempted to negotiate a tradesman day rate:
  “I’ll build yours for 50p.”
  Entrepreneurial spirit lives strong here.

And yet — miraculously —
bird houses emerged. Real ones. Actual structures.
Some lopsided.
Some slightly threatening.
Some genuinely impressive.

We will take all forms of victory.

---

Next Week: Painting Carnage

We told them next week we’ll paint the bird houses.

The reactions:

• “CAN MINE BE GOLD?”
• “I want mine to look like Fortnite.”
• “Can I paint Custard?”
• “Can I paint my face?”
• “Can I paint your face?”

Leaders are currently updating the risk assessment and making peace with the coming storm.

---

Where These Bird Houses Will Go

The Cubs are BUZZING about this bit:

We’re putting them up around the estate.

This means:

• the kids get to SEE their work every day
• the community gets something positive in the landscape
• local birds get new property (subject to planning permission from Mrs Jenkins who complains about everything)
• the Cubs get pride in improving their own environment

One Cub said, “I hope the birds think it’s nice..”
Sweet.

---

The Real Heart Beneath the Hammering

Seven weeks in, and these estate kids are:

• learning real skills
• making things they didn’t know they could make
• working together (ish)
• taking responsibility for tools
• showing pride in their work
• building confidence faster than we can keep up

For kids who don’t always get to shine at school…
who deal with chaos at home…
who get underestimated far too often…

This stuff MATTERS.

They aren’t just building bird houses.
They’re building identity.
Ownership.
Belief.
Community.

And honestly?
It’s beautiful in a noisy, splinter-filled, semi-dangerous sort of way.

---

Week Seven:
Birdhouses built.
Custard admired.
Leaders exhausted.
Estate improved, one wobbly nail at a time.

Bring on Week Eight and bring extra paint.

So.. about ADHD and waiting lists. Next blog..

What we cleaned up:

A trail of biscuit mush leading from the hall to the toilets.
At some point, someone clearly panicked, tightened their tiny fist, and turned a Custard Cream into wet dust.

We also found part of a sausage roll on the radiator.
We do not want to know.

---

Best excuse of the night:

“I didn’t steal it… I just borrowed it forever.”

This was said in relation to a glue stick.
A half-used glue stick.
The prestige item of the crafting world, apparently.

---

Best moment:

A Cub, wide-eyed, breathless, full estate sincerity, ran up and shouted:

“THIS IS MY FAVOURITE DAY OF THE WEEK!”

We asked, “Even better than Saturday?”

He said, “WAY better. You lot are funnier than my mum’s boyfriend.”

We’ll take that.

---

Tonight’s Main Event: RAT MEET & GREET

Yes.
The rat is still here.
Yes, he is thriving.
Yes, the Cubs are obsessed.
Yes, the leaders have absolutely lost control of the situation.

The big reveal tonight was:

• what he eats
• how to hold him
• how not to hold him
• why he cannot go in a hoodie pocket (though he LOVES it!)
• and why “can we race him?” is a question we must firmly shut down every single week

The Cubs’ reactions ranged from pure joy to mild terror to “CAN WE GET A SECOND ONE?”
Which is how we know we’re doomed.

We still haven’t agreed on a name.
The finalists are:

• Sir Nibbles
• Ratatouille
• The Undertaker
• Cubby
• and Custard

Democracy is dead in this Pack.
Whatever name wins, half the Pack will riot.

---

Skill of the Night: Taking Turns (Not Our Strongest Area)

We attempted a circle activity.
A simple, calm, polite, one-at-a-time sharing moment.

What actually happened:

• three kids talked at once
• someone tried to stand on a chair to “make my point stronger”
• one Cub loudly declared the rat should speak next
• another Cub crawled under the circle and popped out like a whack-a-mole
• one leader reconsidered all their life choices

Still, improvement!
Mild improvement.
Tiny, microscopic improvement.
But improvement.

---

Topic of the Night: “What Makes a Good Cub?”

We got surprisingly heartfelt answers:

• “Helping people, even if they’re annoying.”
• “Trying hard, even if you’re bad at it.”
• “Not hitting people unless they REALLY need it.” (We corrected this.)
• “Being brave, like when I told my teacher she was wrong.”

They also told us they want:

• more animals
• more dodgeball
• more snacks
• fewer rules
• more campfire songs even though we are inside a hall with a smoke detector

We’ll… review the feasibility.

---

Leadership Chaos Corner

Leaders tonight were:

• one caffeinated
• one confused
• one covered in unidentifiable crumbs
• one holding the rat like a newborn child
• one manically updating the risk assessment in real time

And yet, somehow, the Pack ran.
Somehow, everyone learned something.
Somehow, no one cried (much).
Somehow, no rat escapes happened.

That is what we call a Council Estate Miracle™.

---

The Real Magic Beneath the Madness

Six weeks in and already:

• the kids feel ownership of this Pack
• the Pack feels like the safest place some of them have
• their confidence is growing
• their behaviour is slowly shifting
• families trust us
• siblings are begging to join
• kids who struggle everywhere else are thriving here

This is why we started.
Not for perfect meetings.
Not for tidy halls.
Not for quiet evenings (we will never have those).

We started because these kids deserve joy, belonging, adventure, and adults who see their worth.

And already six chaotic, biscuit-covered, rat-themed weeks in we can see the difference.

The rat’s name… Custard.

We Have Money! Actual Money!

This is the bit we’re still processing.

Someone looked at our hall, our excitable Cubs, our frantic leaders, and said:

“Yes. £5000 seems appropriate for these people.”

This means we can:

• subsidise uniforms
• pay for transport
• make camp affordable for every single Cub
• and give these kids real adventure, not the budget version

It’s game-changing.
Life-changing.

Now to be clear, we did have a little from HQ. That’s going to buy some flags, some sports kit (You know, balls, stuff to play with) and crafty stuff to burn later…

THIS money is different. We have a local gent who gives grants to deserving community projects. Last year he funded an estate garden clear-up and the Food Bank Christmas drop. Now, he had funded us. He was a Scout back in the day, and went on to become a successful businessman.

What’s better is this. We get this EVERY YEAR for TEN YEARS! Paid from a grants organisation setup in his name. Even better, the money is exclusively to subsidise and fund our kids. This is more than amazing.

All we need now is.. A BANK ACCOUNT.

What we cleaned up:

Vomit. Again. Outside the main door.

At this point, we’re considering installing a sign that says:
“Please do not deposit bodily fluids within a 5-metre radius of the building.”

Honestly, we don’t even ask who anymore.
We just sigh, grab the mop bucket, and move on with our lives.

---

Best excuse of the night:

“He was rude to me so I hit him!”

Delivered with the moral certainty of a High Court judge handing down a life sentence.

We launched into our now-weekly speech about kindness, respecting each other, and not solving disagreements with uppercuts.

He nodded earnestly and said, “Okay. Next time I’ll just shout.”
We’ll take the win.

---

Best moment:

One Cub ran in, eyes sparkling, and yelled at full volume:

“MY BEST FRIEND WANTS TO JOIN!!!”

You would’ve thought she’d announced world peace. Enter.. Best friend! And here it is.

We have twins from a family of asylum seekers. And I am over the moon.

Recruitment strategy?
Apparently just “one kid telling another kid this is the best hour of their life.”
Which, honestly, is probably more effective than anything the Scout Association has ever put in a PDF.

---

Tonight’s Theme: The Animal Carer Badge

We kicked off their chosen badge this week and despite our concerns the Cubs were actually fascinated.

We invited the local pet shop in to talk about animals:

• how to care for them
• what they eat
• how not to terrify them (we’ll see how that goes)
• why rats are clever
• why snakes do not belong in pockets

The Cubs were full of questions such as:

• “Can a goldfish learn my name?”
• “If I put my hamster on a drone, is that OK?”
• “Can a cat go camping?”

We avoided eye contact with the pet shop man during that last one.

---

And then… the surprise.

They only went and donated a RAT to the Pack. With a cage thing and everything we need for THE WHOLE LIFE OF THE RAT. Now, let’s think about this…

A real, live, extremely confident-looking rat.

This was not in the agenda.
This was not in the budget (it’s free!).
This was not in the risk assessment we made using a 2011 template we found on Google.

But here we are.

The kids screamed, some from joy, some from fear, one because “it looks like my cousin.”

The leaders exchanged that silent look of:
“Well… who’s taking this home then?”

One immediately said, “NOT ME.”
Another muttered, “My dog will eat it.”
Another whispered, “My landlord already hates me.”

Eventually, one heroic leader stepped forward to accept guardianship.
We shall never forget their (my) bravery.

We also now have to name the rat, which guarantees next week will descend into 25 minutes of shouting and possibly a fistfight over whether it should be called “Ratty,” “Sir Poo Poo Bum Bum ,” or “Mr Poop”.

---

The Real Impact Beneath the Chaos

It wasn’t just about animals tonight.

For some of our Cubs:

• They don’t have pets because pets cost money.
• They don’t have calm adults who explain things gently.
• They don’t get the chance to nurture anything except their own survival skills.

But tonight they learned:

• responsibility
• kindness
• empathy
• gentleness
• how small creatures need big care

In a community where many kids are expected to grow up too fast, Cubs gives them a place to grow up slowly and lovingly.

And now, with our unexpected Pack rat, they’ll get to learn a lot more.

(Even if the leaders are secretly hoping it doesn’t escape into the hall vents.)

---

Week Five Verdict

• Vomit cleaned: ✓
• Violence redirected: ✓
• New pet rat: ✓
• Cubs excited: ✓✓✓

This Pack is already changing lives, building friendships, and creating memories that are very on-brand for a council estate Cub group: messy, funny, unpredictable, and full of heart.

Next week:
Naming the rat.
Wish us luck.

What we cleaned up:

The toilets and the poo…

Best excuse of the night:

“I really needed a poo…”
This was the explanation for:

• leaving the game without warning,
• reappearing five minutes later with no context,
• and then acting like we were overreacting by asking where he’d been.

Council Estate Cubs: where gastrointestinal emergencies outrank all rules.

---

Best moment:

WE HAVE BEEN GIVEN £5000 TO GET STARTED!
Enough to subsidise uniforms, trips, camps, badges, and probably a mop that doesn’t give up mid-clean.

We told the Cubs and they blinked at us like we’d just told them we’d bought a spaceship.

One simply shouted:
“MUM SAID I CAN GO ON CAMP!”
and honestly? That was the real win.

For so many of these kids, “Mum said yes” is not a small thing.
It means:

• someone believes they can do this
• someone wants them to go
• someone has said, “You deserve adventure too.”

That £5000 isn’t just money.
It’s access.
It’s fairness.
It’s a chance for families who are struggling to say “yes” without worrying how they’ll pay for it later.

It means the estate kids aren’t the ones left behind.

OK I did have a little cry again.

---

Tonight’s Topic: BADGES!

If there is one universal Cub truth across all postcodes, backgrounds, and decibel levels…
It’s that everyone loves badges.

We brought out the badge poster and the hall instantly turned into The Apprentice:
kids pitching, arguing, campaigning, forming alliances.

Two clear winners emerged:

1. Animal Carer Badge

Because:

• “I want to wash a dog!”
• “I want a hamster but mum said no so I want a pretend one.”
• “Can we adopt a fox?” (No. Absolutely not.)
• “I want to stroke a horse AND feed it AND ride it AND also maybe own it.”

We will… manage expectations.

2. DIY Badge

Because estate kids LOVE tools.
We’re talking:

• hammers
• screwdrivers
• wobbly shelves
• questionable enthusiasm

One Cub asked,
“Can we build a bunk bed?”
Not in the hall.
Not ever.
Probably.

---

Dodgeball: The Great Unifier

We ended with dodgeball, obviously.

There are few pure, universal truths in this world, but one is:

All Cubs, regardless of behaviour, background, or energy level, become Olympic athletes when dodgeballs appear.

The transformation is instant.
Kids who can’t sit still for 10 seconds suddenly develop elite tactical awareness.
Children who walked in tired find the power of 10,000 suns.
The Leader Survival Instinct™ kicks in.

It was chaos.
It was loud.
No one cried or got hit in the face (much).
10/10. Would dodge again.

---

The Real Stuff Beneath the Banter

Behind the shouting, dodgeballs, poo excuses, and badge debates, something big is happening:

• Kids who’ve had it rough are starting to smile more.
• Children from struggling homes are talking excitedly about camp instead of worrying about cost.
• Young people labelled “difficult” are shining because we see their strengths first.
• They’re learning, bonding, and actually listening (sometimes, briefly, miraculously).

And now, with £5000 behind us, we can really make this Pack something special:

Affordable.
Inclusive.
Joyful.
For every child on this estate, not just the easy ones, not just the quiet ones, not just the lucky ones.

We’re only at Week Four, and already their world is opening up.

Imagine Week Ten.
Imagine camp.
Imagine the confidence, the chaos, the growth.

This is how change starts:
with a poo excuse, a handful of dodgeballs, and a whole lot of hope.

Flying be the seat of our pants!

Here we are, Kush and I, at the pub. One beer in and we are working out what to do next…
Half a term into running a brand-new Cub Pack on a council estate.

We have:

• A full Pack of brilliant, chaotic, unpredictable Cubs
• A team of leaders who are… mostly awake
• No money…
• A growing reputation (mostly along the lines of “It’s loud but the kids love it”)

And absolutely no idea what we’re doing.

Not in a bad way, in the “we’re flying by the seat of our pants and somehow staying airborne” way.
In the “every week feels like surfing a tidal wave on a biscuit tin lid” way.
In the “this is going far too well and that scares us” way.

But honestly?
It’s glorious.

---

A Pack That Shouldn’t Work… Working

We started this Pack with a few borrowed tables, some dusty flags from the 70s, a second-hand Union flag that sheds threads like a moulting bird, and a hall that seems to attract more indoor broken glass than anywhere else on Earth.

We had a handful of kids.
A couple of leaders.
A mission:
give estate kids a club where they belong, that won’t bankrupt anyone.

Five weeks later?

We’re FULL.
Overflowing.
Maxed out.
People are knocking on the door saying:

• “When are you starting Beavers?”
• “When are you starting Scouts?”
• “Will you open Squirrels? My toddler is feral and needs something to do.”
• “Are you taking adults? My husband needs a hobby.”

Look, it’s lovely.
It’s heart-warming.
It’s affirming.

It’s also mildly terrifying.

We’re still learning which cupboard the glue lives in.
We’re still trying to memorise names.
We’re still arguing about where the rat cage should go.
One leader just found out today that Pack nights are every week and not “when you feel up to it.”

And yet… somehow… it’s working.

---

We Have Leaders! Actual Leaders!

Somehow, we’ve built a team.

A gloriously mismatched, overworked, big-hearted team of volunteers who could all be doing easier things with their weeknights, like:

• laundry
• Netflix
• pretending the world isn’t on fire

But instead, they show up.
They show up tired, or stressed, or late, or confused about what the programme says this week —
and they still manage to pull off small miracles with these kids.

They are the backbone of this Pack.
The glue.
The caffeine-fuelled magic.

We have a chairwoman and a GROUP LEAD VOLUNTEER! Our amazing Kush from Wimbledon who really is a child psychologist!

---

---

And Yet… We’re Still Making It Up As We Go

Truthfully?

We don’t have a grand strategy. Or money…
We don’t have a five-year plan.
We don’t have a carefully crafted roadmap to success.

We have:

• enthusiasm
• community spirit
• stubbornness
• leaders who won’t quit
• kids who think Cubs is “THE BEST THING EVER”
• and more love for this estate than we knew we could hold

The rest?
We figure it out on the fly.

Every week we try a thing.
Sometimes it works.
Sometimes it goes sideways.
Sometimes we end up with vomit at the door, a surprise rat, and half a dozen new members.

But every week, without fail, the kids leave smiling.
Parents leave hopeful.
And we leave tired… but proud.

---

“Will you ever run something other than Cubs?”

Look, apparently everyone wants us to open Beavers.
And Scouts.
And Squirrels.
And maybe Explorers.
And possibly a youth orchestra at this rate.

But me?
I’ll always be a Cub leader.
For now, anyway.

This age, this wild, brilliant, messy, honest age for me…
this is where the magic is.

---

Final Thought

Half a term in, and we’ve already seen:

• confidence growing
• friendships forming
• troubled kids feeling safe
• parents feeling supported
• a community lifting itself up
• hope appearing in the noisiest, most unexpected ways

We might not know exactly what we’re doing,
but we know we’re doing something right.

So here’s to the next half-term.
To the chaos, the community, the Cubs, the leaders, the rat, the surprises, the victories, the disasters…
and whatever else this beautiful estate throws at us.

We’ll ride the wave again.
And probably scream a little.
But we’ll love every second.

What we cleaned up:

Broken glass… inside the hall.
Yes, inside. Outdoors is for amateurs, our Cubs bring the full estate experience indoors.

To be fair, no one claimed responsibility. Everyone blamed “someone who left before I got here.”
Really, we got burgled. Nothing stolen because we don’t have anything.

---

Maddest thing:

We have a new leader! An ex-Scout leader from London who has somehow been convinced to join our madness. A super family who wondered what the noise was.

They walked in saying, “Oh, I’ve worked with tricky kids before.”
By the end they looked like someone who’d aged five years in 55 minutes and whispered, “But not like these tricky kids…” This isn’t Wimbledon mate.

Welcome to Council Estate Cubs Kush! Kush is a Child Psychologist from London who has just started a new job at CHAMS, the place where troubled kids fail to get an appointment, a diagnosis, or any help. Kush is set to change that. Thankyou Kush and GOOD LUCK!

We chew up leaders and spit out better ones.

---

Best excuse of the night:

“I was hungry…”
(This was the explanation for:

• shouting at a cone,
• wandering into the store cupboard,
• refusing to sit down,
• and punching the air “to check if my arms still work.” My nose is still bleeding.)

Honestly, it fits.
Half our kids arrive hungry, overstimulated, or carrying three days’ worth of stress on their tiny shoulders.
We get it.
We meet them where they’re at, even if that’s halfway up a stack of chairs.

---

Best moment:

A Cub stood up, looked around the hall, the noise, the chaos, the questionable hygiene (really, some of these kids don’t wash much…) and announced:

“THIS IS THE BEST THING EVER!”

And it was, in that beautiful, messy way only estate Scouting can be.

Tonight’s Big Topic: What It Means to Be a Cub Scout

You’d think this would be simple.
It wasn’t.

We gathered them, we breathed deeply, and we began:

• What Cubs do.
• How we work together.
• What the Promise means.
• Why we don’t climb radiators.

But honestly? They were mesmerised by something else entirely… we have mice, not pet mice, uninvited mice…

The Uniform Reveal

We showed them the green jumper.

They acted like we were unveiling the crown jewels.

One Cub said, “It’s SO SOFT,” stroking it like it was a therapy animal.
Another asked, “Do we wear this to school as well?”
We shut that down fast before we accidentally start a new fashion trend.

The Flags… oh, the flags

So about the flags.
We proudly presented them like the ceremonial treasures of the Pack.

Except they are moth-eaten, yellowing flags from the 1960s, discovered in the basement of the Methodist church group that I now look back on with loving memories.. that probably forgot they existed.

You could hear the dust leave their fabric when we unfolded them.

The Cubs?
Thought they were EPIC.

One declared:
“These flags must be ANCIENT! Did you use these when you were a Cub?
We did not correct him. No, I did. I’m not THAT old!

Camp Fever Has Begun

I believe that we should get the out camping soon as we can. We told them our first camp is in three weeks.

Reactions included:

• “I AM SLEEPING IN A TENT? LIKE A REAL ONE??”
• “Are there toilets or do we dig holes like foxes?”
• “Can we fight a wolf?”
  (Absolutely not.)
• “Can I bring my hamster?”
  (Also no.)
• “What if I get lost?”
  (You live on an estate. You can navigate by instinct.)

But the excitement?
Off the scale.
This camp will be chaos, joy, and potentially a small health and safety nightmare, but it will change them.

And then I almost cried as Dan asked “Will this be like a real holiday with adventure?” Dan, and none of these names are their real names, has been living in a bed and breakfast with his mum and baby sister for six months now, his dad, well let’s not call him that… Yes Dan, this will be like a real holiday with adventure.

The Real Stuff Beneath the Madness

Week Three and already:

• Kids with tough home lives are finding stability.
• Those labelled “naughty” are actually leaders in disguise.
• Children who never talk are suddenly full of questions.
• Kids who rarely smile are shouting that this is “the best thing ever.”

This is why we’re here.
Broken glass and all.

Cubs gives them an hour and a half where life isn’t about poverty, stress, or surviving the day but
it’s about belonging, laughing, learning, and feeling safe.

And we’re only three weeks in.

Imagine what we’ll be in three months. Bloody knackered I think!

What we cleaned up: Used needles from the alcove.

Maddest thing: Tommy doesn’t know how old he is.

Best excuse: I needed a wee…

Best moment: Tommy can now tie his shoelace and he knows how old he is!

I should have mentioned that before my career as a fire alarm installer I was a budding journalist, with a degree in journalism and a good A-level in English, some Maths, and History. After a car accident I went downhill, lost my home (I mean it wasn’t strictly mine…), almost lost everything. Then I saw an advert in the window of the local Methodist church to volunteer with Scouts. A year later and here we are.

Scouting really helped me, I had new friends, community, and purpose.

But if you ever need proof that real miracles still happen on a Tuesday night in new build hall, look no further than Tommy, proudly tying his shoelace for the very first time and then loudly announcing that, yes, he’s finally figured out how old he is.
We cheered like he’d just won The Apprentice.

Honestly, it was the highlight of the evening… and this was a night full of highlights and near disasters.

Second week in and they came through the doors like a small army who’d pre-agreed to cause mild destruction. Coats half on, laces undone (obviously), voices already at max volume.

One parent waved and said, “Good luck!” in that tone that means: They’ve been like this ALL DAY. They’re your problem now. Tommy isn’t diagnosed yet.

We accept our fate.

Games: A Flexible Concept

We’d planned a simple warm-up game.
The Cubs, naturally, reinvented it into something involving:

• Three kids rolling across the floor like they’d been shot.
• Someone using a traffic cone as a megaphone.
• One Cub running laps for reasons unknown to science.

And yet… somehow… teamwork happened.
Accidentally.
And it was so much fun!.

Tommy’s Big Moment

Right in the middle of the mayhem, Tommy sat himself down and decided tonight was the night he’d crack shoelaces.

Loop. Twist. Pull.
Nope.
Try again.
Nope.
Third time… SORTED.

He jumped up like he’d just achieved enlightenment. Then told us how old he is with the confidence of a man filing his taxes for the first time. I’ve just filed my taxes, for the first time. It’s a horrid task and I don’t want to talk about it.

If we’d had confetti cannons, we’d have used them. For Tommy, not me.

Tommy is an 8 year old boy from a messy home. He lives just across the square from me and if often seen kicking a ball around with his mates right under the “NO BALL GAMES” sign. Mags often points the sign out to Tommy, only Tommy isn’t a good reader, so he ignores it.

Honourable Mentions From Tonight’s Madness

• Mia tried to organise her team by shouting, “LISTEN TO ME, I’M THE BOSS!” Absolute top mega queen energy.
• Dylan somehow got stuck inside a hula hoop and acted like it was a life-threatening medical event.
• Luca and Sam ended up in a heated debate about who would survive longest on a desert island. Neither have ever been further than Tesco.
• Layla reorganised all the chairs without being asked and declared herself “Chairlady.” We respect her authority. Layla’s mum is going to be our new group Chairlady. She also runs the resident’s association, the food bank, the church playgroup, and the litter picking club…

---

The Beautiful Bit Beneath the Bedlam

bedlam, noun

1. 1.a scene of uproar and confusion.”there was bedlam in the courtroomCub Pack”

Here’s the thing:
They’re loud.
They’re messy.
Some of them arrive looking like they’ve already done a full day at Glastonbury.

But when one Cub struggles, three others try to help.
When someone feels overwhelmed, another offers a hand.
When someone finally gets something right, whether it’s a shoelace or remembering their age, the whole Pack celebrates.

Under all the noise and nonsense is a proper little community growing. And this is only week two.

---

Parents’ Pickup: A Comedy in Three Acts

By the end, the hall looked like a tornado had nipped in for a quick look.

Parents came in, stepped over a cone, dodged a stray ball, and said things like:

• “Did he behave?” (No.)
• “Did she eat anything?” (Possibly a crayon.)
• “Why is he wet?” (We genuinely don’t know. No we know, I’m not saying…)

But the kids left grinning.
And that’s what counts.

---

Week Two Verdict

Chaotic? Absolutely.
Exhausting? Without a doubt.
Would we change a single second?
Not a chance. Maybe the wet one.

This is Council Estate Cub Pack:
perfectly imperfect, brilliantly bonkers, and full of kids who are going to surprise us every single week.

What we cleaned up: Sick from the main door.

Maddest thing: The police visited because somebody said there was an “intimidating gathering”

Best excuse: From a mum “Oh I thought we just sent them on their own like school…”

Best moment: A lot of very happy kids from the estate. This is going to be amazing!

I’m a little emotional writing this about our first meeting. To say it was a success is an understatement. We have a Council Estate Cub Pack!

I’m Akela, the leader of the Pack. I have another leader who is shall we say, a little more posh than me. She is a larger than life and amazing black woman who runs a couple of hair shops. I don’t know how else to describe them.

We got the keys, got the guy from HQ who is helping us kick off, went to the hall and started by cleaning the vomit up from the front door. It was a little fresh, and smelly. The door now has a vommy-bleachy smell.

An hour later and we have 24 kids and 12 parents. Now, this was not the plan. The plan was that kids AND parents attend. Sammy said that he cant go and get his mum because he doesn’t have one and Thinusha said that mum doesn’t come home until after work.

This is going to be an adventure.

By 6:30PM we had 24 messy kids, full of s’mores and giggles. And then the police arrived to investigate an “intimidating gathering” by the new hall, after a s’more each they cheered up and invited themselves back next week.

7PM and it’s time to go home. Of the parents we have met, three would like to help, I think that’s pretty good.

Welcome to the Council Estate Cub Pack

I’m a Scout Leader, a dad, and a man who spends far too much time crawling under staircases installing fire alarms.
Not exactly a superhero origin story, unless you count preventing toaster-related infernos, but that’s me. I wasn’t always in this line of work, I had a life changing moment that kicked it all off. Maybe more about that another time. I do, however, have a degree in Journalism. Yes, I know, not quite the career door opener I had hoped for, but this is where I am right now.

Back in 2024, our council estate finally got something lovely:
a new community hall.
A space for coffee mornings, toddler groups, and the occasional attempt by the local councillor to convince us that the council does care about us really, truly, deeply, at least until the next budget meeting.

The hall was fresh paint, cheap biscuits, and hope.
And into that hope walked our Scout District, asking:

“Would anyone like to start a brand-new Scout group here?”

Now, to understand my reaction, you need to know a bit about where we live.

It would be fair, painfully fair, to say this estate has its challenges.

We have our share of:

• crime
• drugs
• teenagers practising for a BMX Olympics that doesn’t exist
• a crack house across the square
• and Maisie next door, whose “visitors” arrive at all hours and leave very quickly

I don’t earn a fortune, installing fire alarms does not put you in the top tax bracket, but compared to many here, I’m doing alright. I see the struggles. I see the pressure families are under. And I see the kids who grow up thinking adventure and opportunity are things that happen somewhere else. And they are right. But not for long.

So when the District asked,
“Would someone like to lead Cubs for this new group?”

I thought:
Yeah, go on then. Why not? Let’s do something mad, meaningful, and slightly terrifying.
I left my old Scout group and stepped into the unknown.

And so on 31 January 2025 we will open the doors for the very first time.

A new Cub Pack.
On a troubled estate.
With tricky, brilliant, messy kids.
With leaders who are learning on the job.
With a community that needs something good.
With zero guarantees and a whole lot of heart.

This blog is the story of what happened next.
The chaos, the joy, the small wins, the big laughs, the challenges, the changes and the incredible kids we hope will be at the centre of it all.

Welcome to the Council Estate Cub Pack.

Hold on tight.
It’s going to be a ride. I have no idea what I am doing.

See when I say I am a Scout Leader, well, I am an assistant Cub leader at a well established group. I’ve been doing this for almost a year, in fact, it’ll be a year next week.

NOTE… I didn’t start this at the beginning, it was August when I managed to contract pneumonia and decided to put my journal into a blog. The dates are real, everything that happened is real, the names have been changed to protect our young people and leaders. Because this is real, it cuts through to the reality of the lives of these kids and their families.

I want you to see this stuff and I want you to see the real difference that Scouting makes to these kids. My gosh it’s been a rollercoaster sometimes. But we are now a strong Cub Pack. And this is our story.