Alexander the "Great"
I first received this nickname back in grade school living in Charlotte County. Back then, I wasn't an extraordinary child. For the first half of my education, I qualified for special education services, and I had speech problems. I could hardly say my own first name all that well; on a bad day, people could swore they thought I said my name was "Alice" and not "Alex." I grew up in a socio-economic disadvantaged family, and I enjoyed eating free/reduced lunch all throughout my school years. Fortunately, I got to know the cafeteria ladies quite well. If you were a good child, they might even give you extra food whenever they could get away with it. Even as a history teacher today, that experience taught me to always respect school staff, especially those who serve your food. Because I liked history so much as a child, one of the cafeteria ladies thought it was cute to call me "Alexander the Great." Up until that point, the only thing I was "great" at was standing in the serving area quietly and not skipping in line. But that all changed, I believe, once I found chess.
I first learned how to play chess from my uncle, but I wasn't very good at it at first. My uncle was retired from the military, and he always emphasized the importance of thinking two moves ahead when playing a strong opponent. As a child, whenever I thought of what a chess "grandmaster" looked like, I pictured my uncle June. He would find creative ways to fork or attack both my King and another piece, and before I knew it we were putting the pieces away to eat cookout food. I didn't see my uncle a lot so when I got a chance to challenge him to another legendary game of chess, it made my child mind excited.
Naturally, I wanted to continue learning how to play chess, but my household wasn't the most conducive learning environment. I was the middle child with two older and younger sisters, and they never entertained the idea of playing a boring game like chess. I got my chance to play more later in life. When I entered high school in 2007, I discovered that our art teacher, Mr. Hailey, was the sponsor for the school's chess club. Even though we never went to tournaments, Mr. Hailey provided a forum for the students to play against each other whenever we finished our art projects early. It gave me an opportunity to compete against my peers since I didn't have anyone at home to play chess against. Slowly, my skills improved, and I became known as that "chess guy" who was already pretty smart. These attributes lend well with my growing self-image as a young man. These periodic battles against my classmates fueled my desire to continue upping my "game," so I sought to improve my chess skills by looking for colleges that hosted a chess club.
I attended Longwood University from 2011-2016 to pursue a history degree with a secondary education concentration. On my journey to become a teacher, I had the honor of being a part of leadership organizations and meeting excellent citizen leaders who became my professors and mentors, and the person who impacted my education the most was Dr. Charles "Chuck" Ross. I first met Dr. Ross as the co-sponsor of the Longwood Chess Club. He seemed like a cool guy, and he had a chessboard in his office which we played on for hours. Dr. Ross and I would spend those hours talking about the chess position and life in general. He told me that I was a nice young man, and he must have seen potential in me since he kept inviting me back to his office to play more chess after repeated beat-downs. He gave me a lot more than advice and chess knowledge though.
During the 2014 winter session, I participated in a study abroad trip to Greece to learn more about military history. This trip created a lot of first in my life: first time visiting an airport terminal; first time flying a plane; first time flying overnight across a ocean; first time landing in a foreign country (France and Greece to be exact); first time spending a night in a foreign hotel; and the list goes on. I spent two weeks traveling by bus to iconic battle sites that shaped Greek history and the rest of the Western world. I saw the site of the Battle of Marathon of antiquity, a number of ancient city-state sites and monuments, and experienced the modernization of Greek culture and society in major cities like Athens. Thanks to Dr. Ross and Ms. Peggy Ward from the Call Me MISTER Program, I collected enough scholarship money to attend this trip; Dr. Ross even wrote one of my letters of recommendation to receive special study abroad scholarship money to help fund my trip.
My favorite memory from the trip was when we stopped an site still under excavation. The tour guide, Aristotelis, was making comments about the surrounding ruins as the Longwood students stood around. I happen to be standing on top of a large block that turned out to be a pedestal for a statue of Alexander the Great. In ancient Greek writing, this block commensurate Alexander's military triumphs during his life. Everyone thought it was ironic that the person named "Alexander" just so happened to be standing on top of a random rock with his name on it; so naturally, pictures were taken. Up until that point, only a few select people have associated those same three words with me. In Call Me MISTER, which is an education leadership program, the director, Dr. Carter, often referred to me by my full first name when in formal gatherings. These and other events led me to reconsider the significance of my name in my life. In a way, I had to thank Dr. Ross and our countless hours of playing chess in his office for this amazing opportunity. See the slideshow below for more details...
In spite of my background, I truly believe that I grew out from fortunate circumstances. As such, I naturally believed I had a duty to give back. It has taken me years to realize that what I desired the most was to show kids who came from a background similar to mine that it's possible to fight your way out of poverty and to get somewhere in life. Back then, I wasn't really all that articulate with my thoughts, but I could play some good chess. I used that game to bridge the communication gap and to reach students of all backgrounds. I received a lot of accolades and praise for my passion and hard work which spurred me to grind harder. After five long years in the classroom as a student, I finally graduated in 2016 with my Bachelor's of Arts Degree and my teaching certificate.
For a few months after graduation, I wasn't sure what to do next. I thought about taking a year off to "find" myself by doing some hiking, but another opportunity landed in my lap. Thanks to Call Me MISTER again, I was recommended to fill a vacant position as a history teacher at Nottoway Middle School. I took the job because I needed the additional money to fund future hiking trips, and I thought I should give education a serious try. You see, I left college feeling vulnerable because I wasn't sure what kind of educator I wanted to be. The task of figuring this out while getting a job seemed daunting at the time so I procrastinated. In a way, I saw that Nottoway interview as a test to see if I can live up to the hopes and expectations that were bestowed onto me.
Long story short, I am about to enter my fifth year teaching with Nottoway County Public Schools. I can't conclude my story by saying that the last four years of my life have been smooth sailing with crystal-clear goals and outlooks on life. Like all new professionals, I harbored deep doubts about my ability to succeed in the classroom. In education, they call this self-doubt the "Impostor Syndrome." It might take years for a teacher to feel that they actually belong in the classroom and aren't just another adult tasked with babysitting adolescents for seven hours per day. After the first couple of years on the job, I knew that I was going to stay in the classroom for awhile, but I wasn't sure that I was really making a difference. Even though I received outstanding peer evaluations, I found myself comparing myself to other teachers and thinking, "What am I doing that really sets me apart from other educators?"
My "ah-ha" moment came in the form of an email from my building administrator in the summer of 2018. I've just finished my second year of teaching, and there was talk circulating of retrofitting the daily schedule to include "Core Plus." This idea became an activity block where the goal was for students to learn about something other than the core subjects. Teachers were given considerable latitude to choose their own Core Plus topic to teach. After I finished reading that email, it was like someone lit a match in my mind; thanks to a Clifton Strengths self-assessment I completed a year later, I know now that my Intellection talent was kicking into a higher gear. I spent the rest of that summer researching and reading countless chess coaching books and ideas to prepare myself for the upcoming year. I even rekindled my passion for playing chess competitively. You see, I spent my first two years grinding to become a better "history" teacher that I neglected my chess skills. I was a little rusty to say the least, but I've found a new drive to become a much stronger player than I was in college. I didn't want some middle-schooler to think I was a punk, after all.
The next two years were exciting for my chess and teaching career. I'm not trying to toot my own horn too much, but I received a lot of positive comments and responses to my chess Core Plus class. Due to the high demand for more chess, I decided to start an after-school chess club for students to play against each other and to prepare to compete in tournaments. Our first major tournament as a chess team was the 2019 Virginia Scholastic and College Chess Championship in Monticello, Virginia. Even though our team tasted a serious beat down, the kids left that event with a desire to work harder to become stronger players. This feeling was fueled partially because I experienced my greatest chess feat up to that point. Like I said before, I have been training myself at home to become a stronger chess player and to live up to the expectations as the Nottoway chess coach. My hard work paid off during the chess championship when I defeated FIDE Master (FM) Macon Shibut during a simultaneous exhibition he hosted for the parent/coach and student participants. In the competitve spirit, FM Shibut signed and gave me a free copy of his very own book, and he congratulated me after the event by saying that our game was one of the only serious matches he fought against during the twenty game simultaneous exhibition. I still have that book and the pride of knowing that I can rub shoulder-to-shoulder with real chess strength and talent.
The triumphs in my chess career didn't stop there. The same summer that year, I was hired by Longwood University to teach chess as part of their Talented and Gifted (TAG) Program. To be honest, this was the first moment when I seriously brought to question my chess credentials. At the time, I was only rated 1327 USCF, which is a far-cry away from being a chess master. I thought to myself, "What could I really offer to these intelligent, young children?"
I took the position because I wanted to earn extra money doing the things I love, of course, but I also wanted to push myself outside my comfort zone. I was still riding the high from a successful third year of teaching, and the people around me were starting to really notice my growing reputation as a great teacher (to be modest). Mind you, if I fast-forward to the very next school year, I was recommended by the same building administrator who informed me about Core Plus to be a candidate for the National History Teacher Award; at the time of writing, I'm not sure if I won, but fingers crossed! Suffice it to say, I wanted to see if I could extend that greatest beyond the classroom and into a realm where my success was highly cotangent on my own power and not from what I've gained as a history teacher.
The TAG program lasted for eight days, and they were some of the most challenging and rewarding in my life. I probably spent a whole month of my summer vacation leading up to the event prepping chess materials and lessons from scratch, and I referred to a whole collection of chess workbooks to solidify my curriculum. My dedication paid off once I entered my classroom at Longwood and started teaching. I've collected a lot of pictures from that event, but I can't share them here because I lack parental consent to show them. That being said, I do remember receiving a comment from one of the coordinators, Alison Allgood. She informed me that one of my TAG campers mentioned my chess class during church and stated that it was his favorite subject. That comment and a hundred others reaffirmed my conviction that chess was the right path for me as a growing educator and leader, and the best has yet to come.
As a TAG instructor, we were required to create and carry a sign so campers and parents would know who to follow around on the Longwood campus. For the record, my favorite chess piece is the bishop. Ever since my victory against FM Macon Shibut, these crafty little demons have created a number of winning chess positions for me and my opponents so I have a high respect for their power. At the time of writing, I always keep a bishop on my desk to remind me that in the right circumstances, anything can become the most powerful object in the game.
In retrospect, the 2019-2020 School Year was the perfect storm of events that would have been challenging for any teacher to navigate. Between political controversy, threats of global conflict with the Middle East, the emergence of COVID-19 in China, abrupt school closings and distance learning, a declining U.S. economy, acts of police brutality and the ensuing protests and riots, and the uncertainty of the upcoming school year, everyone should just receive a participation medal for making it this far. But during the long days of self-quarantine at home, it gave me brevity and a new conviction to improve.
Like all teachers, I felt powerless as I watched my world in the classroom crumble around me. Even though things were looking dire, I still had hope thanks to my blossoming chess career. That November before everything kicked off, I was approached by the Longwood Alumni Magazine to include my story with Dr. Ross in their next publication. This request reunited me with my old mentor for another game of chess in his new office on campus while reminiscing about our paths in life. Going to that meeting gave me a new perspective and benchmark for the progress I have attained thus far. With this new perspective in hand, I tried to think of ways to push back against this negative tide for my students' sake. I wanted to give something to my students so they can think about anything other than the troubles and woes surrounding them. Then I remembered, what better way to empower this next generation of learners than to show them how they can sharpen their minds with chess.
I found my chance to leave my mark during the summer of 2020. Due to social distancing, nearly all summer camps and programs closed in-person events and were forced to move operations online. It was a pretty chaotic time with everyone trying to get their virtual camps started to give kids something to look forward to during those long summer days. My opportunity came when Dr. David Locascio, the Associate Dean of the College of Education and Human Services at Longwood, sent me an email asking if I was available to be an instructor once again for the virtual TAG camp that year. I accepted the position, and once again I set out to prepare earnestly for the task. The camp only lasted eight days this year, but it gave me additional resources and experience to enhance my distance learning repertoire. It also revealed a need for active engagement for students living through the humdrum of the pandemic. Because of this, I decided recently to start offering free and private chess lessons for kids who want to challenge their minds and prepare to compete in over-the-board chess tournaments once the pandemic is over. As a chess coach, my hope is that my journey toward becoming the best version of myself continues by guiding young players to excel over the board. Accomplishing this aim will prove to myself that I am capable of changing the world in great ways.