After school program launching 2026.
Mansfeld-Südharz, Germany - November 24, 2025
The first thing visitors notice when they step into the old graphics studio at Anhalt University is the smell: warm rosin, burnt coffee and the metallic hint of ozone that rises when teenagers forget to switch off a power supply before rerouting a fan. In two months this room will become the flagship node of the Student Cyber Club network, a county-wide after-school programme designed to convert adolescent restlessness into packet-level literacy. There are no whiteboards yet, only a long bench scarred by decades of X-Acto knives and a row of monitors scavenged from the chemistry department’s last grant. That deliberate scruffiness is part of the pedagogy: if a sixteen-year-old can make a honeypot run on hardware that still smells of acetone, she will never again believe that security is a black art reserved for hoodie-wearing wizards in Dublin or Tel Aviv.
The curriculum is intentionally diagonal. One afternoon begins with reverse engineering a gaming cheat someone found on Discord; three hours later the same students are calculating the entropy of the very same binary to see whether it could qualify as a polymorphic loader. By oscillating between offence and defence, between playfulness and rigour, the club replicates the emotional cadence of real incident response: boredom, adrenaline, confusion, elation. There are no bullet-pointed objectives, only narratives. When a participant asks why a captured password hash resists cracking for longer than expected, the mentor answers by handing over a second hash from a different service and asking the group to spot the subtle difference in salt encoding. The discovery that a single character can shift computational complexity by orders of magnitude is allowed to land as a story, not as a slide. The knowledge sticks because it arrived as suspense.
Adults are present, but they are stagehands. County teachers supply the mandatory safeguarding paperwork, while CypSec engineers maintain the lab infrastructure: a miniature replica of the Alliance’s sovereign cloud, air-gapped from the university network and pre-loaded with deliberately vulnerable web apps, ICS simulations and a private Hack The Box arena. Students receive root-level access on day one, yet every action is logged to an immutable journal that only they can decrypt with a personal smart-card. The arrangement teaches two lessons at once: trust is given unconditionally, and accountability is enforced cryptographically. When someone inevitably runs sudo rm -rf / on a shared VM, the only penalty is the collective realisation that backups are not a theoretical concept. The recovery exercise that follows—mounting snapshots, verifying checksums, restoring services—turns a moment of embarrassment into a communal rite of passage more memorable than any lecture on business continuity.
Membership is opt-in and free, but not effortless. Applicants must solve a lightweight capture-the-flag qualifier published every March; the puzzles are crafted to be solvable with nothing more than a browser and a Python interpreter, yet they filter for persistence rather than prior knowledge. Last year 314 pupils submitted flags, 94 reached the final interview, and 48 received club cards. The acceptance rate is deliberately narrow to preserve the mentor-to-student ratio at 1:6, a ceiling borrowed from medieval guilds and confirmed by modern pedagogical studies on deliberate practice. Once inside, members stay until graduation or until they age out at nineteen, ensuring that knowledge transfer flows downward from third-year veterans to first-year rookies without adult mediation. The alumni network is already taking shape: two graduates started a small penetration-testing start-up in Wolfen, while another joined the county IT department as an apprentice SOC analyst before finishing school. None of these outcomes were promised in a brochure; they emerged because the club normalised the idea that Dessau is a perfectly plausible place to begin a security career.
"Give teenagers root, a red lamp and a cold pizza; they will invent resilience faster than any procurement framework."
The long-term wager is cultural, not vocational. By 2030 the county wants 5 % of every secondary-school cohort to hold at least one micro-credential in secure coding or incident response, a target that sounds ambitious until one realises that the same population already treats industrial safety as background radiation. Children here grow up hearing dinner-table stories about shift teams who prevented a chlorine release by noticing a pressure gauge twitch; cyber risk is simply the newest chapter of the same instinct. The club merely provides vocabulary and circuitry. If the experiment succeeds, the region will not need to import talent during the next wave of factory digitalisation. Instead, local SMEs will hire seventeen-year-olds who have already debugged a Modbus gateway at 2 a.m. while eating cold pizza under red emergency lighting. That scenario is no longer speculative; it is scheduled for the pilot factory of a local paint manufacturer this summer, where students will monitor a live deception network deployed between the mixing vessels and the MES server. The only difference is that the smell in the air will be acrylic, not rosin—proof that the chemistry of resilience can be reformulated again and again.
The Cyber Resilience Alliance is a public-private partnership established 2025, led by CypSec, Validato and the County of Mansfeld-Südharz. The Alliance operates a sovereign private-cloud security stack, a shared SOC and an cyber academy, aiming to make Mansfeld-Südharz the reference site for rural cyber resilience by 2030.
Media Contact: Daria Fediay, Chief Executive Officer at CypSec - daria.fediay@cypsec.de.