Scott Stewart thinks it’s only fair that every kid in this country who wants to feel comfortable whacking a puck around a rink gets a chance to do so.

That’s why Stewart, a financial advisor with Toronto-based ScotiaMcLeod Inc. in Winnipeg, donates his time every week to the Hockey Education Reaching Out Society program, also known as H.E.R.O.S. The 11-year-old program provides opportunities for disadvantaged kids in Winnipeg and eight other cities across Canada to learn how to play the country’s national pastime. “There are a lot of kids who can’t afford to play but would like to,” Stewart says. “Hockey is part of our identity. It’s very Canadian to play hockey. And if you can’t, it’s a shame.”

Every Thursday, Stewart and other H.E.R.O.S. volunteers head over to Pioneer Arena in Winnipeg’s core to teach about 35 kids from low-income homes how to play hockey. The volunteers tape sticks and tie skates, but the pre-practice time isn’t only to do with equipment. “We’re always there 45 minutes before the ice time to chat with the kids,” Stewart says. “We hear about what they’re up to in school. The dressing room is a big part of it, just like with any hockey.”

The H.E.R.O.S. kids range in age from nine years old to 12. Some of them have never skated before; for others, the sport comes more naturally.

H.E.R.O.S. was launched in 2000 by former Winnipegger Norm Flynn of the Western Hockey League. The 49-year-old started the program because he wanted to provide an opportunity for disadvantaged kids in Vancouver, which he now calls home, to play hockey.

H.E.R.O.S. has been so successful, more than 2,000 at-risk kids have participated since its inception. Flynn says the program purposely targets kids in grades 5 and 6 because they’re about to hit a critical juncture in their lives — junior high school. H.E.R.O.S. aims to make a positive impact on their lives before they are tempted by gangs and other undesirable influences.

Flynn knows of what he speaks. He credits getting a second-hand pair of skates when he was in Grade 3 with distracting him from “stealing, fighting and getting into trouble.” He was ultimately rewarded with a three-year career in the Western Hockey League, primarily with the Lethbridge Broncos, but he also played 32 games with his hometown Winnipeg Warriors.

Stewart knew volunteering with H.E.R.O.S. would have an impact on the amount of time he gets to spend with his own three young boys, Adam, Nathan and James, but he felt it was important to give back to the community. He also has the support of his wife, Daryla. “I’m quite fortunate to be in the position I’m in,” Stewart says. “If I’m going to give back, it should be something I believe in and am excited about. I’ve been playing a lot of hockey, and I really enjoy it.”@page_break@Stewart adds that he’s also learning about those less fortunate: “These kids talk about how their uncle or their dad is in jail — stuff that kids their age shouldn’t be talking about, know about or even have to deal with. It seems to me these kids are going to benefit more from me being around [than kids in my own neighbourhood].”

While teaching skills on the ice, Stewart and his fellow volunteers continually reinforce the H.E.R.O.S. “behaviours”: listening, respect, discipline and having fun. Each fall, the H.E.R.O.S. kids are given free equipment during a fitting session that resembles a Boxing Day sale at some sporting-gear mecca. The children also get to hear stories of overcoming adversity, which are geared toward helping them in their own situations. Chief among the storytellers is Willie O’Ree, known as the “Jackie Robinson of hockey” for breaking the NHL’s colour barrier more than a half-century ago. O’Ree is now the director of diversity for the NHL and travels widely, talking to kids like those in the Winnipeg H.E.R.O.S. program.

Stewart, now in his second year with H.E.R.O.S., admits that he didn’t have the Mighty Ducks experience he was expecting last year; even with the best coaching, transformations don’t happen overnight in the real world. But he got a jolt of adrenaline as he walked into the dressing room for the first practice last fall when several of the kids called out his name and cheered.

Indeed, Stewart has some stories to tell. Near the end of one very frustrating session for everybody, a boy was eventually asked to leave the ice for inappropriate behaviour. Flynn felt the boy, one of the group’s better skaters, could one day be a mentor for the program but needed a little extra attention. In the hallway, Stewart offered the boy some one-on-one coaching and asked which instructor he’d like to work with. The boy chose Stewart.

“That surprised me. That’s what I get out of H.E.R.O.S.,” Stewart says. “For me, that was rewarding. Even though sometimes it’s tough, they appreciate what we’re doing. They have respect for us and they’re learning the values we’re trying to teach them. That’s pretty cool.”

Stewart says H.E.R.O.S. has made him appreciate his own family a lot more. “I’ll come home and hug my kids and let them know I love them. A lot of these [H.E.R.O.S.] kids don’t have their parents or they live in foster homes,” he says. “On the other hand, my kids will drive me nuts because they won’t eat their dinner. It’s frustrating because I’ve just come from being with these kids who might not have dinner that night or on a consistent basis. My kids don’t realize how fortunate they are.” IE