To my fellow Scout Leaders across the UK – we’ve all had those moments that remind us why we volunteer, and sometimes, experiences that test our resolve. This is my story of both.

It was the first night back at Scouts since the half term break. That familiar sense of purpose, the quiet anticipation of an evening filled with activities, learning, and probably a fair bit of noise. Before heading to the hall, I nipped to the local shop – a mundane errand for milk, tea bags, and the essential biscuits. All while wearing my Scout Leader uniform.

For me, and for countless volunteers like me, this uniform isn’t just fabric and badges. It’s a symbol. It represents community, adventure, skills for life, and a commitment to helping young people grow. I wear it with pride, not just in the Scout hall, but out and about. It’s a conversation starter, a visible reminder of the good work volunteers do. And often, it brings heartwarming interactions.

That evening was no different, at first. Walking back from the shops, a couple of people stopped me. “I used to be in Scouts when I was a kid!” one said with a nostalgic smile. “Well done, keep up the good work!” another offered. These small, bright sparks of recognition mean a lot. They affirm that what we do matters, that it’s valued, that it evokes positive memories. It’s a reminder of the legacy of Scouting and the impact it has.

Then, that all changed…..

As I walked past a building site, a group of builders caught sight of me. And the encouragement? The shared nostalgia? It vanished, replaced by something ugly.

“Paedo! Paedo!” they shouted, the word slung like a stone.

Just like that. A simple walk back from the shops, in a uniform I wear with pride, turned into that. The contrast was jarring, a gut punch. One moment, I’m a respected member of the community fostering positive youth development. The next, I’m a target for the most vile, ignorant slur imaginable, one that cuts to the very core of why we volunteer – to protect and empower children, not harm them.

My immediate reaction, after the initial shock, was a weary frustration. “Guys, grow up,” I thought, and I think I muttered it under my breath. How many times have volunteers, in any youth organisation, faced this kind of ignorant abuse? This isn’t an isolated incident, and that’s the truly disheartening part.

You can watch the original vlog of this experience here:

It makes you wonder. Do these individuals genuinely believe that every adult male involved in youth work fits their disgusting stereotype? Do they not see the dedication, the hours given freely, the positive impact we strive to make? Or is it just mindless, cruel “banter” with no thought for the person on the receiving end, or the damage such accusations do to the reputation of countless good people?

Let me be clear: I am not embarrassed to wear my uniform. I won’t be. These moments, as unpleasant as they are, won’t deter me, or the thousands of other leaders who give their time. If anything, it steels my resolve. Scouting is about building a better, more understanding, and more respectful world. That work is more important than ever when faced with such blatant prejudice.

What many outside Scouting don’t realise is the rigorous safeguarding training we all undergo. Every Leader commits to extensive vetting ( DBS- Police checks) and regular training specifically designed to protect young people. The irony isn’t lost on me that those hurling insults probably have no idea of the careful systems in place to ensure children’s safety in our care.

The energy for the Scout night still needs to come from somewhere – hence the biscuits and tea. The enthusiasm of the Scouts, the chance to teach them something new, the laughter – that’s the real fuel. That’s what drowns out the ignorant shouts from the sidelines.

Thankfully, within Scouting, we have a strong network of support. From fellow Leaders who’ve faced similar situations to District teams who understand these challenges, we’re never truly alone in these experiences. Sometimes just sharing these moments at a leaders’ meeting over a cuppa can help put things in perspective.

But it’s important to talk about these experiences. Not to dwell on the negativity, but to acknowledge it, to support each other, and to remind ourselves why we stand against such ignorance.

So, I ask you the same question I asked in my video: Have you ever experienced something like this while volunteering, in any capacity? How did it make you feel, and how did you respond? Let’s share our stories, because in solidarity, there’s strength.