“I’ve got a bike but is bust”
“Oh?”
“Yeh, it’s got punctures”
“Are you going to get it fixed?”
“Yeh, my brother says he is going to get me new inner tubes, we’re gonna take my bike apart together”
For the next few weeks I asked Sam if is bike had been fixed and whether he and his brother had worked on it together. “No” came the reply each time. Sam is from a family that would be considered below the poverty line. Having asked the question several times I began to realise it was probably not going to be fixed.
I asked Sam if he would like to do some bike maintenance during the the times when we meet. He enthusiastically accepts the offer. I start my hunt for an old bike that someone is getting rid of. My thought is that if nothing else we could take the inner tubes out and put them in his bike to at least make it rideable.
A few weeks later we have a bike, kindly donated by one of my colleagues at Bath YFC. Actually quite a decent bike in usable condition. I bring the bike into school and show it to Sam. He doesn’t show enthusiasm in a way I would but I can tell he is excited; it’s the energetic way attacks the bike, working with me, leading me even, as we unscrew, pull cables and unbolt various bits, dismantling the bicycle. He’s a natural.
It’s lovely to watch him at work, he seems to just know what to do, whilst I struggle clumsily with alum-keys. He talks; Sam is not really a talker. When he does talk like this you know he is happy. He’s articulate, laughing and enthusiastic. In the first week he manages to solve the ‘removal of the chain challenge’. I can tell he is pleased by the way he repeatedly retells the short-story of his success with the bike chain.
The following week, in spite of weather that means we need to shelter inside for ten minutes – which we use to research bike maintenance - we continue our attack on the bike. Last week the chain thwarted progress, this week it was the front forks. Our bit of research had revealed the need for a mallet. Sam, heads off, telling me he’ll find the caretaker who should have one. Again I see energy and enthusiasm. Back more quickly than I expect he sets to work on the front forks. Initially we make little headway. Sam keeps going, while I fiddle about with the gear cables.
He’s hitting the top of the fork gently but firmly as I turn to see, not expecting any progress, success. Again Sam’s initiative, perseverence and commitment to the task have paid-off. The fork is coming free from the frame.
Life has given him less opportunities than most have, but he has so much potential.
The Bike, like Sam is a work in progress; I wish more people would see that.
