When we were young, a residential was just the thing to help us all bond together

Taking them out of their normal environment will do them and you good

Oh those words.

The more pertinent words are, however, from when I turned up early at church, having had no sleep and , even in the days before easy communication, the kindly members of the congregation said

So they ran you a bit ragged last night did they?

This is the second of my ‘Confessions of a young youth minister’ pieces, and it is about a calamitous residential.

On paper it was a great idea. No it wasnt.

On paper it was a terrible idea. It was an idea based upon ‘previous experience’ – and with no actual sensible thinking at all. One even beyond considering it a ‘learning experience’.

For about 4 months, my team and I, after arriving in Hartlepool (see part 1) had begun an open drop in type youth club, which included about 8-9 12-14 year old girls who were on the fringe of the church and their friends, and 8-10, maybe more, 12-15 year old boys from ‘the estate’. Not just ‘the estate’ either, but somewhat notorious on the estate.

We tried. To the best of an ability and experience that was sorely lacking at the time, silly games and icebreakers and ‘god-slot’ moral talks were all opportunities for continued disruption, attention and..after 2-3 months we were exasperated.

So – why not do a residential? – Was the suggestion put to us…this was the kind of thing we used to do in the 1970’s , take the kids on a minibus to somewhere away.

But this wasnt a minibus, or a trip.

This was to the house of one of the church elders, who had been ‘that youthworker’ in the 1970’s, 60’s and 50’s.

We received the consent forms, probably fraudulent, and probably grateful – a 3 line slip on the bottom of an A4 sheet.

We didnt know where we were going, aside from the address.

It wasnt a ‘fun’ place – just a house on another estate in the town – an equally notorious estate.

So we took 8 13-14 year olds, very aggressive, cunning, clever, manipulative, ‘already on the police radar’ boys on a walk from their estate, to a house we’d never been to, 2 miles through town, and getting there realised that any bit of planning was going straight out of the window.

And we did plan, because though I dont remember the journey to the house, I remember that we carried items for games and food, I think.

And it was predictable chaos.

For 4 hours the boys just run around the house.

And through windows, and breaking back in through windows, and down the street, and back again.

Unless the food was being served.

Then they’d lock themselves in rooms, in spaces and hide away.

For 7 hours solid, from around 8pm to 4am, this was the pattern.

It was a residential where it was like being in a prison. In someone else house, with young criminals tearing it apart.

Give them credit, they were enjoying themselves. Give them even more credit they knew how to work in a team far better than the three of us leaders. Team work where two would play up, distract and then others would join in. Where three would run around the house, whilst others stole items, or where they would open windows and doors for each other.

And ill not mention all the activities that went on in the toilets.

Far far too clever for us.

It was pointless trying to get any sleep. Utterly pointless.

So we cut our losses and rationalised, at 5am..

So in the end, I, on my own, walked maybe 4 of the most notorious ones back to their estate, not far from the team house, at around 5.30am, through the streets of hartlepool. Not before they’d ran off completely I think. Not before id considered my life choices at that time.

Not before id already began to realise that ‘what was good for me, or worked for other young people in days gone by, may not work right now’ – though im not sure many residential occur in other peoples houses, with this level of naivety.

I got back to the house at around 6am, slept a few hours then turned up for church.

So, in hindsight , what am I confessing here?

Partly its something about being able to not say ‘no’ at the time, when the ‘great idea’ of a residential was put forward. It really wasnt. Partly its a confession about not knowing what to do, but wanting to do something, and this was so off the mark. Yes, we did get to know the lads even more, but only really in ways that revealed their more destructive sides. Maybe its a confession too about still trying to have plans and programmes and try and entertain out educate young people, even try and have control in an environment, be a leader – when a different approach was required. But I really didn’t know that at the time.

Confessions of a Youth minister part 2, is about the time of the Calamitous residential. I know im not alone in this…