Mr Gibbons shares his inspirational WINGS experience
Around camp, I’m known simply as Mr. Gibbons.
As a volunteer stationed with the Survivalists Guild; the realm’s keepers of fire, blade, and forest lore, my week had already been a roaring success. Monday was all about precision, safety and respect when Keith and I ran knife craft. Tuesday saw the wild thrill of young eyes lighting up as spark met tinder in fire lighting session Keith and I ran.
Going into Wednesday, my heart had always belonged to classic pioneering. It’s a love rooted deep in my past, forged back during my days as a young Scout in Jamaica, where my lashing techniques and tower designs were first honed, tested, and praised. I’ve always felt most at home working with heavy timber and rope. So, when I stepped up to run wood branding with Marisa today, I didn’t expect it to steal the show.
Under the dappled shade of the canopy, the iron brands rested in the embers, glowing a deep cherry red. Standing behind the workbench, two worlds collided for me. As a classroom teacher, I spend my working life finding ways to capture young minds, hold an audience, and turn complex ideas into something accessible. Out here in the woods, those exact same skills kicked into high gear. The classroom management didn’t stay at the school gates, it came right to the workbench, complete with a few catchy “Gibbons-isms” to keep everyone safe, focused, and buzzing with energy.
“Steady hand, clear focus, rock it side to side and back to front, kiss the wood, don’t bruise it!” I found myself calling out, seamlessly bridging my daily profession with my Scouting passion.
The transformation in the young people was magnetic. You could see the initial hesitation melt away, replaced by pure, focused determination. Scouts leaned over their given timber planks, eyes wide with concentration as wisps of fragrant pine smoke curled into the air. They asked eager questions about heat transfer, waited patiently for the iron to take, and cheered each other on as they lifted the iron to reveal their crisp, freshly burnt emblems.
In that moment, watching a Scout hold up their branded plank with fierce pride, a tangible keepsake forged by their own hands, a new passion unlocked in me. Jamaica gave me my love for pioneering giant structures on campsites, but teaching and branding today proved that you can build just as strong of a bridge over a humble plank of wood.
As the sun began to dip over the subcamps and the evening festival vibes took over the site, I looked down at my soot-stained hands with a smile. Being a teacher lets me shape minds every day, but being Mr. Gibbons with the Survivalists Guild lets me pass on traditional backwoods skills in a way these young adventurers will remember long after the tents come down. Wednesday’s branding session turned out to be the highlight of my week.
