Mix teenagers and children who have been excluded from school or addicted to drugs or arrested for GBH and add children with severe learning or physical difficulties or Down’s Syndrome and you might have a recipe for disaster. At the Trax Project in Oxford they’ve got the right mix. It’s an inspiration.

Trax started more than 20 years ago to help combat the causes of joyriding on Blackbird Leys and both that estate and Trax are unrecognisable today and both have moved on in leaps and bounds.

The vision of Trax, the charity, is to create an opportunity of valued employment for each young person who attends their centre in an old farm near the Pear Tree Roundabout. The aim is to create jobs, give young people experience and make them employable. Instead of having a CV with no experience, no exams, no results, not much, Trax teaches ‘real work’ so they come out the other end with real skills and know how to work as a team.

Oxford Mail:

Young people gather for Trax’s 20th anniversary in 2012

The young people take maths, English and computer skills courses and they learn how to write a CV, how to be articulate and how to make a budget. These lessons are wrapped up with mechanical skills so they accept it. Around 500 youths pass through Trax each year.

But this charity means business. Trax has formed a social enterprise business launched at the start of September. Instead of having to rely on hand-outs from donors – governments and other charities – Trax wants to create its own wealth.

The scheme is ambitious with a bicycle business, catering, gardening, summer camps and survival courses.

The bicycle workshop scheme called Trax Active is central. This week they started a ‘Scruffy Bike Sale’ offering about 100 fully reconditioned bikes from £50 to £70 with a year parts and labour guarantee and a three year free service (excluding parts after 12 months) and a guarantee to buy it back after three years – very convenient for University students.

Catering is another business arm of this social enterprise project. It’s been running through the summer and they already have contracts for functions with local government offices, weddings and ‘big year’ birthdays. On Tuesday I had lunch at Trax and the food was very good.

Oxford Mail:

 Chris Harman, track deputy manager, right, and Danny Hobson. 

If the everyday meal at the centre is any indication the food for the ‘functions’ should be great.

The gardening business holds good promise. Trax plans to sell plants to the public and build alliances with garden centres in Oxfordshire to employ their people. This is an area where the raised vegetable beds allow people in wheelchairs or with learning difficulties to roll up their sleeves and get involved, and the former addicts and excluded pupils will pitch in and help. They all have a shared vulnerability and they know it, so they take care of each other.

Who uses Trax? Charlotte started taking drugs at 12 and soon became addicted to meow meow or MCAT which is a form of plant fertiliser that can be purchased over the internet.

Oxford Mail:

Tutor Steven Garner and school pupil Celena Appleby-Prince get to grips with a spanner when Trax taught youngsters how to build their own bikes recently

She went on to use ecstasy, marijuana and cocaine. To fund her drug use she got into trouble with the police after robbing houses, shops and people in the street.

Charlotte’s school referred her to Trax to help get her off the drugs. She was 15 and started to see the light.

“If I carried on like this I would be in prison or dead in a ditch. I was a student here for three years, now for the last two years I’ve been teaching push-bike mechanics. If I make a difference and inspire one other young person it will all be worthwhile. The people at this place are like one massive family.

“Even when you leave and you’re living alone you can bring your dirty washing here and they’ll do it in the kitchen. If you need help and you’re hungry, they’ll give you food to take home. It’s one massive family.”

Lewis, another student at Trax, told me: “There’s a lot of taking care here. Everyone helps each other with plenty of advice and listening to your background problems that helps people to open up and talk about the things that hurt.”

Lyndon came to Trax three years ago at 13. He had been excluded from Bicester Community College because of arguments with the teachers and fighting.

This teenager sitting opposite me at Trax was bright, inquisitive and trendy with a baseball cap on back to front that said “OBEY” over his forehead. “I like it here. I’ve developed a skill. I know I want to become a car mechanic. The teachers are so supportive, more like friends; and they don’t speak to you like you’re thick.”

Jordon was excluded from school 14 times. “Trax is completely different. They don’t treat you like kids, more like adults. I’m learning mechanics; they’re helping me get work. If I didn’t have a job, if I didn’t have any qualifications, I’d be in prison. At Trax it’s like living at home, everyone is so close. And we have rules. Everyone has to follow them. The rules are important and that’s good.”

This respect for rules sounded a bit strange coming from a child who had been excluded from his school 14 times for breaking the school rules until I found out that the kids at Trax make the rules with the teachers in these small, close knit classes. The Group Rules in the bicycle workshop told a story: s Respect each other.

  •  No tools lying around.
  • No riding in workshop.
  • Listen to instructions.
  • Don’t run.
  • Have fun.
  •  Don’t call us ‘Sir’.

Peter Wilks, a former director of Xerox who also worked for Prudential and ran his own business, is running the Trax social enterprise branches.

He told me: “The most frightening thing for these kids is getting a job. They see it as too big a step. When they come here they feel bad because they do not interview well, they have no skills, no CV, no presentation.

“Getting a job seems like Mount Everest, impossible to climb. After Trax they can say ‘here’s my skill. This is what I’ve done.’ Trax has created a ladder to get them there. It’s a trial job. They get paid for it and we don’t judge. That’s what we deliver.”