The final bell of the day rings. To others, this sound is the end of a long, tiring day, but for us chess players, it is the start of a thrilling afternoon. A hard, cold breeze sweeps by me as I rush out of class and make my way to Room 9, the classroom where countless hours would feel like mere seconds. On the other side is a small, but warm close-knit community of students shaking hands before making their first moves, or congratulating each other after an intense battle of skill. From smiling after a checkmate to laughing after a careless blunder, it is a place where I can momentarily escape the mundane experiences of life. I enter the room and start setting up my favorite black-and-white checkered board, signed by Grandmaster Alexandra Kosteniuk. My first opponent is none other than my biggest rival: my sister. I smiled and I hit the timer as my jet-black pieces came to life, poised to help me win.  

I was first introduced to chess in the first grade, but it was not until freshman year of high school that I fell in love with the game. At school, I would half-jokingly tell all the people I met on my way to classes, “You’re signed up for the chess club.” To my surprise, most of these people ended up coming and even challenging me to games regularly during the school day. Indeed, during lunchtime, black and white pieces were strewn across the mahogany tables, as the sound of chatter and ticking of the electronic timers filled the usually solemn air. Unfortunately, our time playing chess on campus was cut short as the pandemic forced a period of online learning and isolation.

As we finally transitioned back to in-person learning in my junior year, I felt a sense of relief. While online chess helped me keep up with the game, nothing beat the feeling of playing over-the-board chess with my friends sitting in front of me. The thrill doesn’t just come from the game, but also the people you play. This helped me realize that there must be others who want to play chess face-to-face but don’t have the opportunity to. So I purchased some chess sets and asked my local library if I could start a chess club there. It was a new club at a small library, so I was unsure if there would be any interest, but to my surprise, 6 people showed up to the first meeting. Gradually, 6 grew into 16 which grew into 26, and chess became the most popular activity at the library. Over those 10 weeks, each kid I played had a unique story to tell. A chess game is a very personal setting, so the kids could freely share conversations one-on-one with their opponents without feeling intimidated. There were kids who were homeschooled, from different economic backgrounds, and of different races and ethnicities. Despite their differences, these children played chess with each other with such enthusiasm that I felt like I was once again standing in Room 9 playing with my friends. It was a significant moment in my life; I went from being a part of a community to starting my own. 

Now, a chess game means something different to me. It not only signifies my journey as a player but also as a teacher. It embodies my experiences with all the unique people I have played with. And now, it’s something I want to share with others. Seeing the joy and progress of my students inspire me to reach those who only play staring at a computer screen for hours, those who have a dusty old chess board sitting in their attic untouched for years, or those who wish they could pick up a new skill in their free time. After all, a simple black-and-white chess board can add color into anyone's life.