February 29, 2016
The chess board is set up once again. My father taught me chess, not necessarily the passive past-time checkers, but an activity involving critical thinking and strategy. It stopped being fun when it required me to think before each move, preventing the inevitable, watching each calculated play, him winning each move and eventually the game itself! Little did I know as a youngster playing chess with my Dad would have lasting lessons in my career.
True to life, albeit no always readily seen, chess has taught me the impact of the consequences of all the choices I made. Each game performs to predictably mark the game as one of skill, wit and the eventual survivor of placing the King in checkmate. Pawns attempt to protect ultimately the King and the Queen to a slightly lesser extent. The Bishops, Knight and Rooks proudly take formal steps towards victory, using their own distinctive moves. With each play of chance, I would move defensively to take a pawn or if I got lucky I was able to take a Bishop or a Knight from him.
On the rare occasion, I was able to put the Queen in jeopardy but never the coveted put the King in checkmate. The completion of each round Dad would provide me an overview of the game and how my misplaced moves cost me the game. Patiently, he explained how if I had only moved a certain piece to a specific coordinate on the board my fate would not have been my inevitable demise. The lessons may or may not have immediate results. More often than not it was one of the distant future as if I was looking into a gypsy’s crystal ball.
In my early days as a Program Director, I found myself reacting to situations. I found reaction was an instant solution to problems occurring in my programs. Whether it was a child misbehaving or disciplining staff for procedural infractions. I had every reason to believe everything was operating smoothly in my programs until the moment something would erupt that needed my immediate reaction. If I only knew, what I know today, my programs would have been noticeably better. Fortunately, the majority of my staff were older and had years of experience working with children and held a strong, excellent work ethic. Like a spong, I absorbed a great deal from them, which helped me in turn balance my academic knowledge with the practical skills necessary to survive the reality of operating child care programs. In many instances my first line of defense, my pawns were swept off the board almost instantly as I saw my Knights and Bishops depart not much later.
As I matured and the years pass, my skills in using my pawns to protect the rest of my chess board’s entourage became more polished. Simultaneously, the same occurred in my career through various positions I assumed over the years. I learned the value of each piece played with the end result, protecting the King. The Knight became one of my favorite pieces, I learned to play it in such a way to help protect my royal couple. Eventually, the Bishop and the Rook joined with the Knight I was able to build a fortress. My playing time significantly extended longer from my earlier days, my Dad remained victorious, but now he would think beyond my still predictable moves. He now focused his play farther ahead of my two or three planned moves and ultimately how he would conquer my pieces painstakingly intentional and calculated. I learned building a solid foundation to my wide network of relationships at work not only helped build my program capacity but also developed mentors and ultimately lifelong friends who I can still call upon. Although I continued to improve with each round, Dad still managed to find a way to incorporate a life message at the end of each game. The lessons of yesterday combined with today’s teachings finally successfully knocked sense into my hard head.
Although I often compare my relationship with my own father to the lyrics of Harry Chapin’s song “Cradle in the Cradle” and feel the similarities outnumber the differences. My boundless love, respect and admiration I have of him remains a devoted son who still looks up to him. I often reminisce sentimentally of yesterday and wonder where the little boy playing chess with his father, vanished at the blink of an eye. Care to join me in a round of chess? You too, will learn not only a timeless pastime but gain lessons for a lifetime.
My own busy schedule and my father’s health make it difficult to continue playing chess. I bet, if you were to ask, he’d say, I’d done him proud even though I have never won a game against him. The memories of our time spent together and ultimately the lessons I continue to treasure. I will always cherish memories of hearing his voice exclaim enthusiastically in Hungarian “Sakk-matt.” as he corners my King and excitedly tells me where my plays went wrong while he prepares the chess board for yet another round with me.
True to life, albeit no always readily seen, chess has taught me the impact of the consequences of all the choices I made. Each game performs to predictably mark the game as one of skill, wit and the eventual survivor of placing the King in checkmate. Pawns attempt to protect ultimately the King and the Queen to a slightly lesser extent. The Bishops, Knight and Rooks proudly take formal steps towards victory, using their own distinctive moves. With each play of chance, I would move defensively to take a pawn or if I got lucky I was able to take a Bishop or a Knight from him.
On the rare occasion, I was able to put the Queen in jeopardy but never the coveted put the King in checkmate. The completion of each round Dad would provide me an overview of the game and how my misplaced moves cost me the game. Patiently, he explained how if I had only moved a certain piece to a specific coordinate on the board my fate would not have been my inevitable demise. The lessons may or may not have immediate results. More often than not it was one of the distant future as if I was looking into a gypsy’s crystal ball.
In my early days as a Program Director, I found myself reacting to situations. I found reaction was an instant solution to problems occurring in my programs. Whether it was a child misbehaving or disciplining staff for procedural infractions. I had every reason to believe everything was operating smoothly in my programs until the moment something would erupt that needed my immediate reaction. If I only knew, what I know today, my programs would have been noticeably better. Fortunately, the majority of my staff were older and had years of experience working with children and held a strong, excellent work ethic. Like a spong, I absorbed a great deal from them, which helped me in turn balance my academic knowledge with the practical skills necessary to survive the reality of operating child care programs. In many instances my first line of defense, my pawns were swept off the board almost instantly as I saw my Knights and Bishops depart not much later.
As I matured and the years pass, my skills in using my pawns to protect the rest of my chess board’s entourage became more polished. Simultaneously, the same occurred in my career through various positions I assumed over the years. I learned the value of each piece played with the end result, protecting the King. The Knight became one of my favorite pieces, I learned to play it in such a way to help protect my royal couple. Eventually, the Bishop and the Rook joined with the Knight I was able to build a fortress. My playing time significantly extended longer from my earlier days, my Dad remained victorious, but now he would think beyond my still predictable moves. He now focused his play farther ahead of my two or three planned moves and ultimately how he would conquer my pieces painstakingly intentional and calculated. I learned building a solid foundation to my wide network of relationships at work not only helped build my program capacity but also developed mentors and ultimately lifelong friends who I can still call upon. Although I continued to improve with each round, Dad still managed to find a way to incorporate a life message at the end of each game. The lessons of yesterday combined with today’s teachings finally successfully knocked sense into my hard head.
Although I often compare my relationship with my own father to the lyrics of Harry Chapin’s song “Cradle in the Cradle” and feel the similarities outnumber the differences. My boundless love, respect and admiration I have of him remains a devoted son who still looks up to him. I often reminisce sentimentally of yesterday and wonder where the little boy playing chess with his father, vanished at the blink of an eye. Care to join me in a round of chess? You too, will learn not only a timeless pastime but gain lessons for a lifetime.
My own busy schedule and my father’s health make it difficult to continue playing chess. I bet, if you were to ask, he’d say, I’d done him proud even though I have never won a game against him. The memories of our time spent together and ultimately the lessons I continue to treasure. I will always cherish memories of hearing his voice exclaim enthusiastically in Hungarian “Sakk-matt.” as he corners my King and excitedly tells me where my plays went wrong while he prepares the chess board for yet another round with me.
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