Why Sound Steps CIC Exists (By Stuart Norbury)
Christmas Day has always mattered to me. Since 2019, it has meant something else entirely.
That morning I drove to Harlow Hospital to see my nan, Margaret. She was in palliative care. My dad, brothers and I opened presents with her around the bed. I held her hand and thanked her for everything she had given us. She had lived more than twenty years without my grandad and raised a family that kept growing outward from her. Children. Grandchildren. Stories. Love. An entire lineage from one woman.
I didn’t know it then, but that was the last time we spoke.
After the hospital, I picked up my best mate Lee, who had nowhere to go that day. Back at home, Archie showed him his Christmas presents. One stood out. A 50cc orange and black motorbike.
After lunch, Archie was desperate to ride it. Fully suited up, helmet on, we walked across the field. I showed him the biting point. Before I could explain the brakes, he looked at me and shouted, “Bye Dad,” twisted the throttle and took off flat out. Me, Lee and his brother collapsed laughing as he flew past us like he was buzzing the tower. Pure fearlessness. Pure joy.
I already knew there was something different about him. A spark. A depth. A presence.
That evening, everyone sat down to watch a film. I was in the kitchen when I heard Archie say, calmly and without emotion, “Daddy’s nan just died.” He was five. I challenged him. He repeated it. I asked how he knew. He said, “I don’t know.” I rang my dad immediately. They had just left the hospital. Nan was fine when they left. Relief washed over me. Ten minutes later, my phone rang again. “She’s gone.” The timing was exact.
That moment changed everything. I stopped questioning where Archie was going and started asking how I could keep up. I made a decision there and then to back him completely, but more importantly, to listen to what he was teaching me.
Fast-forward to 2024 and the launch of DJ Archie School.
I left a well-paid job, using my nan’s inheritance after years of probate as the financial buffer to build something properly. Not quickly. Properly. The school became my research lab. Two years of paid delivery. Every outcome logged. Every session refined. Every review captured. Not for profit, but for proof.
By the time Sound Steps CIC began knocking at the door, the work was already done. We had the data. We had the outcomes. We had children who arrived withdrawn and left confident. Neurodivergent young people finding structure. Blind and autistic artists like George “Blindbeats” learning systems, independence and self-belief through sound. Families having new conversations around the kitchen table because their child had found something they could own.
The paid phase proved the model worked.
Sound Steps CIC exists to remove the price tag, not the quality.
Same mentors. Same curriculum. Same measurable impact. Delivered free to those who need it most, funded by those who believe in the evidence.
Christmas Day is the right day to launch this.
It reminds me that some signals are bigger than business plans. Margaret gave us life. Archie gave us the nudge.
The paid years gave us proof. Sound Steps CIC gives it away.