They are seriously turning up to have fun!

A recent introduction meeting at our latest school in South London

How Dads Kids Club introduction meetings are growing in attendance - and what that tells us about what dads actually want.

Something is happening. It always starts the same way with the Head Teacher asking us ‘will anyone turn up tonight’ (usually a Tuesday at 7pm). We always say 1 is more than we had this morning, but we’re wishing for record numbers or dads, stepdads, granddads, stepdads, uncles and male carers to fill the school hall. We proudly report that they’re turning up. Not out of duty. They're turning up because they want to. Our first introduction meeting: 11 dads in a school hall. Brilliant. More than we expected. Enough to get started. Another school later: 15 dads. Better still. Word is spreading. Our most recent introduction meeting: 31 dads and a dog. The dog was unplanned but very welcome.

"That is the paradox of the epidemic: that in order to create one contagious movement, you often have to create many small movements first."

Malcolm Gladwell, The Tipping Point

What happens in the room

The introduction meeting is where everything begins. A room full of strangers. Men who live on the same streets, whose kids sit in the same classrooms, who've probably nodded at each other on the school run - but who've never actually spoken. Within twenty minutes, something shifts. They start talking. Not about football, not about work, not about the weather. About their kids. About what they wish they were doing more of. About what school was like for them. About what they want it to be like for their children. They bond over the most basic things - a shared laugh about packed lunches, a shared frustration about screen time, a shared pride in what their kid said this week. And then, almost without being asked, hands start going up. "I'm a carpenter - I could run a woodwork session." "I used to coach football - could I do something with that?" "I speak three languages - is that useful?" Strangers become volunteers in the space of an hour.

The bravest thing in the room

But the moment we remember most from every introduction meeting isn't the volunteering. It's the stories.

Somewhere in every gathering, once the room has warmed up and the tea has been poured, a dad says something honest. Something he probably hasn't said out loud before. About feeling disconnected from his child's school life. About wanting to be more present but not knowing how. About the guilt of working long hours, or the loneliness of being the only dad who ever showed up to anything.

And then another dad says: "Me too." And then another.

That's not a meeting. That's the beginning of something.

"Am I doing too much?"

At our most recent meeting, one dad put his hand up with a question that stopped the room. He'd clearly been sitting on it for a while.

"I'm already involved in my kids' school," he said. "Do you think there's a danger of my kid thinking I'm doing too much?"

It's such an honest question. Such a dad question. The anxiety that even being present might somehow go wrong. That caring too visibly might embarrass them. That showing up too often crosses some invisible line.

The answer, for the record - is no. There is no such thing as a dad who is too involved in his child's education. There is no moment where a child looks at their father and thinks "I wish he'd come to school less." Research doesn't support it. Experience doesn't support it. The kids at our clubs don't support it. They love it. They glow.

What children need is an engaged, present dad. Not a perfect one, just a present one. And if you're worried about being too present, you're probably exactly the kind of dad we need in the room.

"You might as well work here"

It's something school staff say, usually with a grin, when a dad has been coming along for a few months. "You might as well work here."

People say it because they're surprised. Because the picture they had of dads - on the periphery, hard to reach, hard to engage - doesn't match the man who keeps turning up, who knows all the kids' names, who fixes things without being asked and remembers which child doesn't like the loud activities.

But we'd say it differently. We'd say this is what happens when you invite a dad properly. When you tell him his presence matters. When you give him something meaningful to do and a community to do it with. You don't get someone who reluctantly shows up. You get someone who becomes part of the place.

The tipping point

97% of dads and male carers who have been through a Dads Kids Club believe that if every primary school in the UK had one, it would create better outcomes for dads, children and schools. That's not a statistic. That's momentum.

If you want to bring Dads Kids Club to your school - or if you're a dad reading this wondering whether it's for you - the answer is the same as it was for every man who walked into one of those rooms.

Turn up. That's all it takes to start.

Scott

I'm Scott. Founder of Dads Kids Club. We're a dad-led Community Interest Company that invites men to get more involved in their kids' education - improving children's educational engagement, men's mental health and life opportunities for both. 

We invite, train and mobilise dads, step-dads, grandads, uncles and male carers to co-run screen-free, hands-on Saturday clubs at their children's primary schools. Men share skills, connect and bond. Children enjoy beyond-the-curriculum activities - building confidence, new skills and memories that last. We celebrate all masculinities, backgrounds, identities and beliefs.

If you work in education, family services, philanthropy or simply believe in what happens when dads show up - I'd love to connect.

📧 info@dadskids.club 🌐@DadsKidsClub (on Instagram)