Why Games Matter

I went to two different high schools. At the second one, I fell into the wrong crowd. They had a room to hang out in, off of the library where they could talk, plan hijinks, discuss teachers & students...a free-form and welcome release from the strictures of student-teacher experiences. Study hall in the library was a boring affair, and some of the students would encourage me to hang out and play chess in their room. Their "teacher", Harvey Kimble, was okay with that, and even let me officially join them my senior year.



It was a talented and gifted group. When I say "teacher", he had been a teacher and had switched over to TAG. It was a great experience for me. I think teachers are amazing...and Harvey blew them all away. If there's a word above teacher, assume I used it for him. He was compassionate, funny, challenging, and had this love of enjoying things that he shared with us.



One of the experiences that he mandated for us, was serving breakfast to some inner city children in Des Moines, Iowa. It was early in the morning down by Drake University, I think. Pre-school, kindergarten, maybe some first graders. We helped serve breakfast, did a craft area...there was even a game area. Kimble told me with a smile - after the breakfast portion, I needed to go help out there.



They had checkers, and the kids were excited to play against me - despite my encouragement to play each other. See, they had a plan. They had never lost against the TAG students, and they were looking to take me down too. It was fun - they made up rules on how the game REALLY played. Of course, they didn't tell me those rules until they used them on me.



Halfway to my end, I started using their tricks in return. I could only use the rules they had introduced to me - and my opponent tried to revoke some of those rules in the process. Thankfully the horde of young spectators insisted on fairness. I did end up breaking their streak of wins, but they were pretty happy about it. I was adopted by them, as I had been adopted by the TAG group.



A couple of weeks and several garage sales later, I showed up again for breakfast. This time, I shared my game with them. My father and brothers (and even my sister Martha for a little while) played chess with me. These kids were smart enough to make up their own rules for games, they could learn chess. And they did. It offered complexity, tricks...a bigger game sandbox to play in.



These kids had a tough life then, and I don't imagine it got easier. Kids that young would be used to run drugs. An older teen would take the money, the kid would deliver the drugs. If a police officer stopped the 5 year-old, they wouldn't get good information. It was too big for me and it was bad for the kids - one of those "facts of life" moments that killed me a little inside every time I thought about it.



One of the kids came up to me in a later session. He didn't really feel like his dad loved him, or wanted anything to do with him. This wasn't an uncommon theme - you listen, demonstrate compassion, try to help them cope. He shared with his dad that he had learned chess at the breakfast club! His dad was surprised and doubtful, but got out a board and they played. At the end of the game, his dad apparently had tears in his eyes, and they had bonded. The kid had a happy smile and tears in his eyes when he told me.



This is why I dig board games. Creativity, social glue, critical thinking, it's all there. There are studies out there that discuss how games can spur critical thinking skills, catching up those kids who fall between the cracks - I can believe that. 



And a special thanks for Harvey Kimble and the breakfast club for the memories.