|
National Chess News 
Black youths learn to
make the right moves
By Larry Copeland
USA TODAY
JUNE 15, 2004
ATLANTA — DeKalb County is home to some of the nation's wealthiest
African-American neighborhoods, a shining star in a city known as
the Black Mecca. There are more than 98,000 students in DeKalb schools,
but just 27 of them attend Project Destiny School. They are the
toughest of the tough: This is where students come when they're
kicked out of alternative schools.
On a recent afternoon, Orrin Hudson, a former
Alabama state trooper, is teaching chess to 14 students in an after-school
program. He uses the ancient game to instill a fundamental life
lesson: They will win or lose because of choices they make —
in real life and on the chess board. (Audio photo gallery: The
Chess Mate)
Standing at a large, canvas chess board pinned
to an easel, he runs his rap: "If you lose a game, you have only
yourself to blame." But he's already lost half his audience. Students
at one table in the cafeteria-style room are playing checkers, talking
among themselves and ignoring Hudson. "Man, ain't nobody listening
to you," a young man at another table mutters. Still another feigns
sleep.
Hudson, 41, figures he has taught chess to
15,000 kids in Georgia, Alabama, Kentucky, Nevada and Washington
state. He knows that what he's pushing won't save every child in
the room. But he's hoping chess might rescue one — the way
it did him. He's among a determined band of people and groups across
the nation trying to combat a corrosive social problem: the loss
of many young black males to prison, to poverty, to early deaths.
For many reasons — some of them not yet
fully understood by sociologists and black families — African-American
males drop out of high school and college in disproportionately
high numbers. They have much higher unemployment rates — 24.7%
for youths ages 16-19, nearly twice the national average for this
age group. Almost one-third of black men in their 20s are in prison
or on probation or parole. Nationally, 60% of imprisoned youths
18 and younger are black — nearly four times their representation
in the population.
A major part of the problem, conservatives
and liberals agree, is that education, the great American equalizer
and traditionally a nearly sacred value in black households, is
often viewed with disdain by young men whose cultural landscape
is shaped by rap music and its bling-bling, get-it-all-now emphasis.
The situation is further complicated by public schools that quickly
label black boys as discipline and behavior problems, fast-tracking
many for special-education classes and suspending and expelling
them into dead-end lives.
Black parents across the nation are struggling
with this complex issue, which cuts across all socioeconomic lines.
Even middle- and upper-class African-Americans fret that their children
will squander the gains the parents have made.
"Even the most successful African-Americans
in our communities have young people who will not pursue higher
education and attainment," says Arlethia Perry-Johnson, who heads
a Georgia effort to increase enrollment of black males on the state's
34 college and university campuses. "That becomes our own dirty
laundry that we need to air."
Among efforts to seek solutions:
• The Congressional Black Caucus is meeting
with residents in six cities through December for its State of the
African-American Man initiative. The group will make policy recommendations
to the White House in February.
• The National Urban League, the nation's
oldest civil rights group, is creating a National Commission on
the Black Male. "I think we have a crisis with young black males,"
says Urban League President Marc Morial, a former mayor of New Orleans.
"These problems are not going to be solved with one rally, one congressional
act or one press conference."
• The Schott Foundation, a group in Cambridge,
Mass., that promotes equity in education and child care, held a
summit of scholars and policymakers in May in Chicago called "A
Positive Future for Black Boys." The group is devising strategies
for state and local officials, foundation president Rosa Smith says.
"Our next piece of work is to produce a state-by-state report card
on the educational status of black boys," she says.
• Henry Louis Gates Jr., a Harvard University
scholar who studied black progress since Martin Luther King Jr.'s
1968 assassination, is calling for a new civil rights movement —
within the black community this time — to overcome self-defeating
behaviors.
• Some public colleges and universities,
faced with dwindling numbers of black male students, are trying
to find ways to attract and keep more. Some states and counties
also are seeking solutions.
"We need to bring more African-American men
into mentoring, to be role models," says Jose Evans, executive director
of the Indiana Commission on the Social Status of Black Males. "The
ones who are doing it are doing a great job, but they're being stretched
too thin."
Saying no to bad choices
The notion that chess can help people make
better choices isn't new. In 1991, Maurice Ashley, the only black
International Grand Master of chess, coached the Raging Rooks —
a team of youths from Harlem and the Bronx — to a tie for
first in the National Junior High School Chess Championship. Philadelphia
educator Salome Thomas-EL started a chess program at Roberts Vaux
Middle School in 1987 and inspired hundreds of children to attend
magnet schools and college. Philadelphia plans to establish chess
clubs at all 264 public schools.
Hudson heard the call years ago. By 1999, he
already had been teaching chess to Birmingham school children for
13 years, having started because he believed the game could help
instill character. That year, he says, he realized he needed to
reach even more children. The catalyst: the May 24, 2000, armed
robbery and execution-style murders of five employees at a Queens,
N.Y., Wendy's restaurant that netted the gunmen just $2,400.
Hudson knew the two killers had ridden a series
of bad choices to that eatery.
"This was kids killing kids for money," he
says. "I have a major problem with that. Our people don't value
life. I looked at my life and I said, 'What do I know how to do?
What has made a difference in my life? What has helped me?' "
The answer was chess. His brother had introduced
him to the game as a teenager. His high school English teacher,
who is white, had helped him refine his play, giving him a book
on chess when he graduated from high school. Hudson learned to scrutinize
every option, to plan ahead and to recognize patterns. Those skills
helped propel him out of a public housing project in Birmingham,
where he was the seventh of 13 children.
"Orrin's the best I've taught, by far," says
Birmingham teacher James Edge, in his 29th year. "Chess teaches
you discipline, teaches you organization. Orrin wanted that. A lot
of the kids I have now need that discipline."
After high school, Hudson spent six years as
a state trooper and ran a car dealership. Along the way, he thought
he could help youths find hope in the face of bleak prospects.
He knew a thing or two about long odds. In
1999, Hudson was the lowest-ranked player to enter the Birmingham
City Chess Championship. He won, beating the highest-ranked player
to become the first African-American city champion. He won the next
year, too.
Hudson figured that what worked for him would
work for others. He says a conversation with motivational self-help
guru Tony Robbins inspired him: "He asked me what I would do if
I only had six months to live."
In 2001, he founded Be Someone Inc., a non-profit
group that teaches self-esteem, critical thinking and responsibility
through the game of chess.
Since then, Hudson has taught the game at schools,
libraries and recreation centers — wherever he's asked to
give free lessons. Hudson, who is a paid motivational speaker, also
offers paid chess lessons.
Hudson, who is married and has five children,
pays for chess materials with grants and donations to Be Someone,
which had $49,301 in income and $49,150 in expenses in 2002, according
to the Georgia secretary of state.
Hudson no longer plays in chess tournaments.
But he can teach the game. His students have won many awards in
regional and state tournaments. "I teach them, 'Look, you can make
one move in life — and never recover. You've got to always
ask, 'Is this the best move I can make?' If you see a good move,
look for a better move."
His efforts are drawing accolades. This year,
he won a 2004 Martin Luther King Award for Community Service and
a TBS Superstation Pathfinders Award for Education. "We were impressed
by how dedicated he was to the kids," says Angela Thomas, coordinator
of the King awards, which are given by Emory University here.
'Make a smart move'
Hudson's visit to the Project Destiny school
is only his third. The non-profit, faith-based program was developed
to prevent juvenile delinquency, reduce recidivism and teach families
to be economically self-sufficient. "We take kids expelled for a
semester to one year for everything from drugs to guns," director
Rodney Mayfield says. "This is their last resort."
Despite their reticence, Hudson entices several
kids to play against him. "I like this," says Ronald Jackson, 15.
"Where we could be out doing something to get us in trouble, we're
here doing something positive." What he says next shows he's been
paying attention: "When you play chess, all your pieces have a clear
purpose. Just like in life. You have to make sure you make the right
move at the right time."
About 20 minutes after Hudson leaves Project
Destiny, he walks into a roomful of third-, fourth- and fifth-graders
at Charles R. Drew Charter School, part of a nationally recognized
effort to revitalize East Lake Meadows, once one of the city's most
treacherous public housing projects.
The students here, younger and less jaded than
the group he's just left, practically cheer when Hudson enters.
They cluster around him, clamoring to be his first victim. He sets
the board up, then begins chanting as he explains how the knight
moves: "One, two, turn! In an L-shape! One, two, turn!"
He tells his rapt audience: "In life, you've
got to position yourself to win. By coming to school early, by being
ready to learn. You've got to make sure you make smart moves. If
somebody says, 'Let's not go to school today. Let's play hooky,'
you say, 'No, I'm not going to do that. I'm going to make a smart
move.' "
Fourth-grader Kiera Anderson, 10, returns from
her turn at the board with a big grin. "He's a great teacher," she
says. "He breaks it down to the point where any age group can understand.
I've learned a lot from him. I learned that you've got to work together
as a team to do certain stuff you never knew you could do."
After an hour, Hudson instructs her and the
25 others to start cleaning up.
"I'm teaching them, 'You've got to think on
your own, because the only thing that can save you is yourselves,'
" he says, packing away dozens of chess pieces. "No one is coming
to the rescue."
© Copyright 2004 USA TODAY, a division of Gannett Co. Inc.
|
