At the Youth Hub in London, a quiet kind of magic is woven into the walls—not by accident, but by a team of dedicated, compassionate people who help young Londoners feel safe enough to call this place home. Among them is Dean, a calm, creative presence whose steady kindness has a way of reaching people when words fall short.
Dean is a progression coach at the Hub—a role that combines practical support with emotional presence. The Youth Hub itself is an emergency accommodation service, providing 26 en-suite rooms for young people aged 18 to 24 who are currently or at imminent risk of homelessness. Supported by the GLA and London Councils, it’s a place where young Londoners can find stability, safety, and someone in their corner.
For Dean, that role is more than a job. “I’ve come from a very positive background and good life, so I want to pass that positivity on to others” he explains. That passion is evident in everything he does—from arranging dental appointments to guiding someone through their immigration paperwork—but his calm strength shines brightest in the quiet moments, especially when art is involved.
Dean has a background in textiles, printing, and design, and creativity has always been at the heart of who he is. “From the age of five, really, I’ve been in the arts,” he says. “Drama school, making models, painting, music… I’ve always liked to create something from nothing.”
At the Hub, art isn’t just a hobby—it’s a bridge. Dean gently invites young people to draw, paint, or build alongside him, knowing that sometimes, it’s easier to open up when your hands are busy.
“I always ask individuals, are you into art? Do you like drawing? And if they say yes, I provide the materials,” he says.
One moment that has stayed with him is a young person who rarely spoke, whose first language isn’t English. One day, Dean saw a charcoal portrait the young man had drawn of a girl—perhaps a girlfriend, perhaps a memory. “I thought, wow,” Dean recalls. “I said to him, I’d love to bring my easel and art materials someday, and we can have a one-to-one session.” That spark of recognition was a turning point. “You could see the light in his eyes.”
Dean understands that not every young person is ready right away. But he’s not in a rush. “Even if they don’t feel like it now, I’ll try in a month again, asking— ‘Are you ready now?’” he says, always with a soft smile and steady encouragement. He’s a consistent presence, returning gently, offering connection without pressure.
He’s currently working on a new collaborative project: a large “Welcome to the Hub” artwork, featuring different languages and imagery that reflects the diversity of the young people staying there. “I’ve got some young people involved,” he says. “it’s going to be bright, positive, and collaborative.” That shared sense of ownership is important. For many of the young people who pass through The Hub, this may be the first time they’ve been invited to leave a mark on a space.
And that, for Dean, is what it’s all about creating a sense of belonging and calm where chaos once ruled. He doesn’t need applause or recognition. What matters most to him is how the young people feel when they walk out the door.
“I want them to feel respected, valued, supported, and kept safe,” he says when asked what kind of legacy he hopes to leave.
Dean doesn’t measure success by accolades, but by quiet wins: the confidence to try, the courage to smile, the pride in creating something from nothing. “Progress doesn’t look the same for everyone,” he says. With patience, respect, and a steady hand, Dean invites young people to find their voice in their own time.
Wearing one of his signature hats, a paintbrush or drumstick never far from reach, Dean brings calm, creativity, and care to a place that means far more than shelter. At the Youth Hub, where being seen and feeling safe can change a life, Dean’s presence is quietly but powerfully transformative.