In 1956 twenty-six year old Donald Byrne and thirteen year old Bobby Fischer played a chess match that was ultimately referred to as the Game of the Century. At the time, Byrne was one of the leading American chess masters, and the young Bobby Fischer was merely a rising star. Through a series of moves marked by innovation and improvisation; the young Fisher stunned the chess community when, despite sacrificing his queen, he still won the match.
Traditionally, when games are played at a mastery level, game clocks are simply stopped, and the defeated player merely offers their resignation rather than finishing a game to its inevitable culmination. In the Game of the Century; however, Byrne played his losing game to its final check-mate conclusion in an attempt to explore the full workings of his young opponent’s mind. Following the match, Fischer was quoted as saying, “I just made the moves I thought were best. I was just lucky.”
Two years later, Fisher went on to become the youngest ever U.S. Champion. Not long after, Fischer dropped out of high school in order to dedicate his life to the mastery of the game. When asked what characteristics exceptional chess players should posses, Fischer replied, “A strong memory, concentration, imagination, and a strong will are all required to become a great chess player.”
I once had my own Bobby Fischer-esque moment in the fall of 1988 when I entered my school’s chess tournament. After beating my first opponent, by using a four-move approach referred to as a Scholar’s mate; I actually skipped home that day. My chess career; however, was very short-lived. The very next day I was unable to return to school for the remainder of the week having contracted Chicken Pox.
Even though there is little evidence to support the claim, I was just certain I would have excelled in the competition had I been given the chance. I certainly never imagined that the same skills necessary to navigate a game of chess, might one day serve me well in raising a child who saw the world through a lens very different from my own.
When contemplating your shopping list for the Christmas holiday, a mother with four small children has to be very intentional about her gift selections. The ultimate aim being to attain toys that don’t simply add to the clutter of an already brimming playroom. Ideally, the Mother wants to find gifts that will both educate her children, and aid in the cultivation of creative play.
From a marketing perspective, the Blonde could be categorized as a Mattel and Disney designer’s dream-demographic candidate. The little girl loves doll houses, costumes, tea parties, princesses, and anything pink. Pink is most certainly her signature color. The philosophical debates the Mother and the Blonde have on a daily basis don’t revolve so much around the notion of to pink or not to pink, but rather how much pink is enough pink.
When it came to selecting a meaningful gift for the Blonde, the Mother felt that it might be fun to consider purchasing the little girl her first big-girl doll. Not knowing if the Blonde would actually play with the doll, or if the toy was destined to simply sit, nestled on her bookshelf amongst other long since forgotten stuffed animals; the Mother decided to take a more cautious approach. The Mother searched online for a reasonably priced 18” doll much like the comparable American Girl doll she herself had as a child, but free from the encumbering cost.
The Mother liked to think of this strategy as the try-before-you-buy foster doll approach. Depending on the success of the foster program, the Mother would be more inclined to fund the adoption of a more expensive doll in the future. What the Mother had not considered; however, was the potential implications of bringing this particular foster doll into their home.
When the Blonde opened the yellowed-haired doll on Christmas morning, she let out an involuntary gasp, pulled the doll close to her chest, and proclaimed, “Oh, I love her…..ever so much!”
Pleased by the little girl’s enthusiastic response the Mother replied, “I’m so glad you like her. Maybe we should give her a name. What would you like to call your doll?”
“Well, well…” the Blonde stammered, clearly thinking aloud. “I think her name should be Margaret. Yes, she seems like a Margaret to me,” the little girl stated very matter-of-factly.
The Mother held back an overwhelming laugh. Margaret seemed like a rather heavy name….for a 4 year-olds companion, but who was she to argue otherwise. As a little girl, the Mother herself possessed a bright pink doll……which for reasons that still elude her to this day….she insisted should be named Justin. So honestly, the Mother had very little room to be making any doll-naming judgements.
Margaret came with a variety of accessories, and as the days rolled on it became evident to the Mother that the Blonde was quite serious about her motherhood duties. The Blonde dressed Margaret each day in accordance with the family’s agenda. When it came to her new charge, the Mother was pleased by the level of attention and care that the Blonde seemed to be demonstrating.
A week later, as the Mother was getting the children….and Margaret…..ready for bed, the Blonde turned to her mother and said, “Mom, can I ask you something?”
“Of course”, the Mother replied. Suspicious this might simply be one of the Blonde’s bedtime stall tactics that had been on the rise of late; the Mother was therefore minimally focused on the little girls next words.
“Well….I’m a little worried…..because….because I don’t know…..who Margaret’s father is,” the Blonde stammered. The Mother instantly snapped to full attention.
What in the world?!? the Mother thought, as she stood there….mouth literally hanging open.
If the Blonde had at all sensed the Mother’s lack-luster listening skills before, questions in regards to the unknown paternity of one’s doll would definitely be a strong tactical approach to take…..if a child was attempting to garner their parent’s full attention.
The Mother’s mind momentarily drifted to the game of chess. When playing the game of chess, the opening move in which a player risks a pawn or minor piece in order to gain positional advantage is referred to as a gambit. The Blonde had clearly made a bold initial move.
Quickly pulling herself together the Mother replied,”Well…remember…we got Margaret from Santa. Margaret isn’t….. from your tummy. We don’t know who Margaret’s parents are. Our job is just to love her and give her a nice home.”
Not really a family to heavily push the Santa concept at Christmas time, the Mother had no issue in using Santa as a total scape goat in this moment. The alternative, where do babies come from, discussion seemed a much greater risk than arguing the mythology of a man with flying reindeer.
The Blonde looked at the Mother. The Mother looked back at the Blonde.
The Mother wondered….was she the only one hearing the click of a chess clock in this moment? Perhaps she was just imagining it.
Suddenly, the little girl got a glimmer in her eyes, and then her entire face was overtaken by a grin. The Blonde looked a bit like a mischievous cat still clutching a canary in their mouth.
The Mother couldn’t help but feel she and the Blonde were presently making early moves in a life-long chess game that they would be navigating for many years ahead. The Blonde, clearly realizing she had been bested, simply conceded the mother’s gambit by her simple response of, “Oh yes, that’s right.”
Several weeks later, the Mother walked into the Blonde’s room and informed her that it was time to make their daily pilgrimage to the bus stop to retrieve her brother.
“I can’t right now…..this isn’t a very good time,” the little girl declared.
“Um…I can’t.…is not on the list of acceptable answers. We need to go get your brother…now,” the Mother replied in an annoyed tone.
“Well…..Margaret….is dead….you see,” the Blonde stated very somberly.
“What?!? What on earth happened to poor Margaret?” the Mother replied, suddenly much more engaged in the course of this conversation.
“Well we were pretending that she was my mother…..” the Blonde stated as her words trailed off. The Mother again stood stunned for the second time in a matter of two and a half minutes.
“And she died? Why did she die?!?” the now very troubled Mother replied.
There it was again, the Mother thought. That was definitely the click of a chess clock she was hearing, and it was clearly her move.
The Blonde looked up at her mother with her large, sparkling blue eyes and waited for what would be said next.
The Mother could sense that the Blonde was not prepared to sacrifice the evident tactical position, she was now clearly holding. Without much warning, the Mother suddenly found herself now in a defensive posture.
Just as the Mother was about to respond with something like, I don’t think pretending Margaret is dead is a very nice game, the Blonde made her next move and said, “Mom, we have something….even more awful to talk about.”
The Mother’s mind could hardly keep up with this entire conversation. What could possibly be more awful than pretending your doll had died? The Mother was starting to think this foster doll might be a terrible influence on her daughter.
“It’s…it’s about Margaret,” the Blonde continued. “I heard her saying that she wanted to run away….and live with another family. Are you so upset with her?” the Blonde questioned.
“What?!?” the Mother again shouted in a voice much louder than she had intentioned. The Mother felt this entire conversation was coming completely off the rails. Why couldn’t the Blonde’s doll simply be interested in dress up and tea parties….like normal dolls? How on earth did they end up with a troubled doll?
The Mother’s mind momentarily drifted to the game of chess. One of her favorite moves has always been something referred to as Castling. There are several parameters that have to align in order for one to utilize this defensive technique. If permissible, the technique allows the individual to move both their king and rook at the same time. Castling could be described as the ultimate emergency escape, and the Mother was pretty much needing to pull off her own emergency move right now in order to get things back on track.
“Honey, it’s very important for you to remind Margaret that it’s always okay to ask questions. Part of being a good mommy is making sure that your children know they can talk to you about anything. I’m sure Margaret will have lots of things she wants to ask us about in the future, but for now we just need to tell her we love her, and if she were to live with another family we would miss her very much,” the Mother stated.
The Blonde looked thoughtfully at her Mother and said, “I think Margaret….will be pleased to hear that mommy.”
The Mother realized very early on that the Blonde saw the world, people, and situations through a lens very different than her own. Strangely, the addition of Margaret opened a door for the Blonde to discuss topics that might not otherwise be addressed in casual conversation. The Mother didn’t allow herself to dwell too deeply on the random nature of the Blonde’s subject matter, but instead chose to see the interaction as an encouraging testament to the critical spirit of openness she and the little girl were cultivating.
The fact that they were now totally late in their efforts to retrieve the Boy from the bus seemed rather trivial at this exact moment. The Mother was also quite certain this was not the last time they would be hearing from the clearly precocious Margaret.
The Motherhood in Technicolor Memo: In the chess match between Byrne and Fischer, the decision by the more seasoned individual to play the entire game through to its final conclusion, verses simply resigning, was unexpected. It could be argued that the match served as a reminder for those observing it, and that the elements of victory and defeat were not actually the most important components of the game. The truths we can learn from each other, as we navigate the game board of parenting, might be the most powerful lessons of all.
Motherhood lived in technicolor, reminds us that very early on our children will test our spirit of receptiveness. How we respond, and the moves we make…will matter. Our responses during the critical season of boundary exploration, do present a very real potential for our children to disconnect from their perception of seeing us as credible council. It is critical as parents that we make our moves thoughtfully. We might do well to consider the fact that what questions our children ask might be of less importance than the why they are asking them in the first place.
Certainly, parenting offers us no guarantees because we cannot control the ultimate outcome. I think the greatest success at the end of our journey will be measured by our ability to say, much like Bobby Fischer, that we utilized our creative minds and strong wills to make the parenting moves we thought were best at the time.
Chess grandmaster Vladimir Kramnik once said, “I am convinced, the way one plays chess always reflects the player’s personality. It’s important to remember one cannot control everything. Sometimes the game takes an unexpected turn, it is then that a true beauty begins to emerge.”
Summer Smith is a speaker, writer, and motherhood blogger. She and her family are currently navigating the suburbs of Northern Virginia. As the mother to four young children, Summer maintains her sanity thanks to her sense of humor, copious amounts of coffee, and Amazon Prime. Maya Angelou once said, when reflecting on her childhood, that her mother left an impression like technicolor stars in the midnight sky. Influenced by these words, Summer blogs at her website Motherhood in Technicolor, and can also be found on her Motherhood in Technicolor Facebook page.