Case Study: A 13-Year-Old Boxer’s Journey to Confidence and Belonging

Tracey and Bill Davies established Mile Oak Boxing Club with a vision of empowering young people, providing them with a supportive environment to develop confidence, resilience, and a true sense of community. More than just a gym, it has become a hub where discipline and encouragement go hand in hand. Through her work at the club, Tracey has witnessed firsthand how boxing can transform lives—proving that, for many, it’s more than just a sport; it’s a lifeline.

In July 2023, my husband and I opened Mile Oak Boxing Club, hoping to create a space where young people could build confidence, resilience, and a sense of belonging. Just a few weeks after opening, we were contacted by the parents of a 13-year-old boy, D. He had never tried boxing before and had no idea what to expect, but something about it had sparked his interest.

D is neurodivergent and struggles with social anxiety. When he first walked through our doors, he barely spoke a word. His head was down, his movements were hesitant, and his baseball cap was pulled so low over his face that we could hardly see his eyes. As I spoke with his mother, she explained that he found communication difficult and was uncomfortable with physical contact. She wasn’t sure if boxing would be the right fit for him, but she wanted to support his wish to try.

While we were talking, my husband Bill approached D and gently introduced himself. Without hesitation, he offered to help D wrap his hands. To everyone’s surprise, D allowed him to do so—something that, for a child who disliked touch, was a huge step. That first session, D didn’t speak to anyone except to quietly ask Bill what he should do next. Bill worked one-on-one with him on the pads, giving him a simple, structured routine.

Over the next few weeks, D remained reserved. He still kept his hat pulled low, avoided eye contact, and only spoke in one-word answers. But he kept coming back. Slowly, we began to notice small shifts—subtle but significant. The brim of his hat started to lift just a little, and he began to seem more at ease in the gym.

One day, I asked his mum if she thought D would like to have his photo taken. She hesitated before explaining that their family had very few pictures of him—he found having his photo taken difficult. She suggested I ask him directly, so I did, but he immediately said no. I didn’t push it, but I understood what it meant for them.

Then, one day, something changed. Bill, who had been working closely with D, was beaming with pride watching him on the bag. He turned to D and asked, “Can I take a quick video to show your mum and dad? I think they’d love to see how well you’re doing.”

To our surprise, D simply said, “Yes.”

That moment was a breakthrough. From then on, D began to open up more and more. The other boxers in the gym took notice and embraced him in their own way. When he arrived, they greeted him with a fist bump, a simple yet powerful gesture of acceptance. He started to relax, joke with the other kids, and even make eye contact.

As time went on, we saw him grow—not just in skill, but in confidence. This past Christmas, we realized that D had outgrown the junior class. He was getting stronger and needed to move up to the senior group. We spoke to his mum, who promised to ask him if he felt comfortable making the transition.

The response? He couldn’t wait.

D had also been watching the senior boxers spar, and we could tell he was interested. My son Glynn, an experienced boxer, offered to move around with him to help him build his technique. Again, we checked with his mum, and she passed the message on to D. He was eager to do it.

And then came another defining moment.

From the boy who once hid behind his cap and spoke in whispers, we now had a young man stepping into the ring, head held high, putting on a headguard without hesitation. He started laughing and joking with the other boxers, his sharp sense of humor shining through. One day, he even agreed to be in a group photo—something his parents never thought they’d see.

Looking back, we see more than just a child learning to box. We see a boy who found his voice, his confidence, and his place. Moments like these remind us why we do what we do—because for some children, boxing isn’t just a sport. It’s a lifeline.

To find out more about the club, check out their website here.