My Road to GM: Growth Mindset

Introduction

Learning is uncomfortable. You are having to admit to yourself that you were wrong about something. I wish I had embraced my failings more when I was younger, not just in chess, but as a whole. The biggest growing I did as a child was highlighted around my waist. I remember my dad telling me that it was just puppy fat until I was 14 years old, when I was involved in a crash diet of sorts (with a car). I have learnt a lot since then. 

While I would never scoff at someone that has an FM (a Fixed Mindset), it's rare to hear a person state that they're on the road to FM (FIDE Master) in chess. Usually, the only road that chess players travel down, is the one that leads them to becoming a GM (Grandmaster). This is often a dead-end, with many players failing this feat because of the mental barriers that stand in their way. These psychological obstacles can be attributed to having a fixed mindset. A fear of failure stunts one's ability to develop the skills necessary to achieve lofty goals. In short, we cannot reach our destination if we refuse to focus on the journey itself. Because of this, I have decided that I will not include any data related to Elo, as I feel that it would defeat the purpose of this blog. Instead, I will be focusing on my personal chess (and life) journey. So, sit back, relax and enjoy the ride, as we travel down my road to GM (Growth Mindset).

Contents

• My Budding Football Career
• Taking a Break (or Several)
• Just when you Thought this Blog was Moving Forward...
• Now back to our Regularly Scheduled Programming
• A Different Kind of Break this Time
• Every Rennaissance Begins with an Intermission
• Fostering the GM (Growth Mindset) Status in my Students
• Final Thoughts

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My Budding Football Career

I wasn't the most athletic child, yet I still participated in almost every sport available to me when I was growing up. From Cricket to Basketball to Lacrosse, if there was a spot on the team, I would join. The sport I loved and played the most was Australian Rules Football (known as AFL or footy). Throughout most of my Primary school years (from 5-12 years old), there I was, with a footy in my hand... for a few seconds at best before fumbling the ball, or inevitably falling over. My dad was my first footy coach. Wins never mattered to him (luckily, as I don't remember any wins) and everyone played for the same amount of time. This was when I enjoyed playing footy the most.

My next coach, however, was built different. When I was 10, until near my 13th birthday, our coach drilled into us that playing was all about winning. On a few occasions before a game, I remember my coach sending me over to the other team, because they were short of players. Afterwards, my coach would give me a can of coke while dribbling sentiments about how I was a good sport, when in actual fact, he could care less. His purpose was to stop the other team from forfeiting so that he had a better chance of winning the season. Sending me to the other team benefited his objective, and honestly, I was just glad to not be on the bench for once.

This was around the time I began to stop kicking the footy around during recess and lunch play, and when I found the schools chess club. It was a place that felt safe to me. I still loved footy; I just didn't love the insults that came with playing it. Not everyone bullied me. The captain of the footy team (Andy) was kind. However, I understood why many of the other students had bullied me. The clouds were often more beautiful to me than the football oval. I would like to believe that this is why many chess players look up when they're thinking of their next move. I was a thinker and a dreamer. Perhaps that's why I grew to overthink, while still following my dreams.

Taking a Break (or Several)

At 14 years old, my life suddenly changed when I was hit by a car while on the footpath (sidewalk). I made it to the front page of the newspaper for this achievement, and needed to have multiple surgeries on my right leg, which had been crushed. My promising football career (for the other team) came to an end that day. I received a lot of letters while I was in hospital, from people who would have never written to me before (and have never written since). However, one letter stuck out to me. It was from my old footy captain, Andy. He wrote to me about one game of football we had played together, where we were up by a point in the grand final. I'd been in my usual position for the whole game, keeping the bench warm, when I was suddenly called in to play. I heard the groans of my teammates. Nobody wanted me to play, and yet there I was, sent on solely because the coach loved to pretend like he didn't have favourite's. A player attempted to run past me with the ball and I managed to tackle him. The siren went right after, and we won the grand final by a point.

Andy wrote "Just remember that when nobody believed in you, you believed in yourself". After a few months of recovery, I hobbled into school on crutches. The cast on my right leg went from my toes to my hip. One of the first things I did was to try and find Andy. Turns out he was stabbed with a pair of scissors at school a few days after writing the letter and ended up in hospital himself. I never saw him again. I never got to thank him or tell him how much his letter meant to me.

Just when you Thought this Blog was Moving Forward...

There are no take-backs – just as in life. You must think before you move

Susan Polgar

...yet here I am, taking you back to when I was eight years old, when my dad would teach me how to play chess. My dad was a sweetheart, however, when I began to win against him, I remember he would get quite frustrated that he had made blunders. He told me stories about how good he used to be at chess. Even now, I believe that I only won because of his mistakes, and not because of my growing skill. I wish I believed in myself the way Andy thought I had.

At 12 years old, my primary school competed against another school in chess. We needed 5 players. I was picked as the reserve, which was okay because I was already accustomed to sitting on the bench when 'playing' football. After my team was decimated by our opponents, we went to MacDonald's to celebrate our humiliating loss. While there, my chess teacher played against me, and I managed to win. Even now, I believe that I only won because he felt sorry for me. He told me that no student had ever beaten him. It was hard for me to believe that his incredible unbeaten streak would be broken by the child he believed wasn't even good enough for the team. I wasn't Andy. I was no captain. My name is Andrew. I wasn't cool enough to ever be an Andy. I was the chubby kid, getting cans of coke and MacDonald's for being a glorified mascot.

Now back to our Regularly Scheduled Programming

The single most important thing in life is to believe in yourself regardless of what everyone else says.

Hikaru Nakamura

Not long after the car accident, I resumed playing chess. I had a new chess coach, who, just like the one before him, claimed to have not lost to a student (he maintained that he was undefeated in his 30 years of teaching). He chose me to be the chess captain and sent me interstate to compete for my school while I was still on crutches. Later on, when I defeated my coach, I remember him acting like I played brilliantly, when I felt like the trap I had set was almost juvenile. 'Believe in yourself' went through my head. I may not be an Andy, but I, Andrew, still became my school's chess captain, and remained so each following year. So, why wouldn't I just believe in myself?

A Different Kind of Break this Time

My son was born when I was 17 years old, while I was in my final year of high school. This was the same week I was asked to travel interstate to captain my school's chess team again. I stayed. It felt like it was just 'chess'terday (sounds like yesterday. I make jokes when I'm being vulnerable, so please laugh at this one). I often state that this was the moment I chose to step away from chess. However, I actually played on one more occasion, not long after my son was born.

I decided to go to a chess club, where I proceeded to lose almost every game that night. Even now, I believe that this meant that everyone else that mattered to me may have let me win. I had become so used to doggy paddling in small ponds, next to others who were struggling to stay afloat. I wasn't prepared for the ocean, or it's waves. My special talent had been keeping the bench warm for people like Andy when they needed a break. This was when I needed my break from chess.

Every Rennaissance Begins with an Intermission

Inside of me, I didn't feel like a winner, and because of this I lost a lot of time. All of a sudden, I was exactly twice as old, having played less chess games than the years I had lived in that time. Chess wasn't a game my son gravitated towards. I did play a couple of games against a few friends, and faced off against a plane (or, at least the chess game on the plane) because there were no movies of interest. But mostly, I was growing up. My self-doubts weren't just in chess; I carried them everywhere with me for a long time, because I never thought that someone like me could make it in life. Gradually, I began to believe in myself more. I took on and sought out as many challenges as I could, and I listened to all the feedback that came my way. Over time, I fell in love with the uncomfortable feeling that being wrong or failing gave me, because I knew it meant that I was about to learn, and that became so exciting to me. It was after this change where I realised that I could make a difference to children who are going through many of the same feelings and experiences that I had when I was growing up. So, when I turned 30, I began studying to become a teacher.

I graduated a few years ago, and not long after, I was able to create a chess club in my school. I see so many students who were like me. The unathletic, or the unique; the quirky. The 'I didn't think I would ever fit in until I found this club' kinds of people. I lived my life for so many years in wins and losses, where I doubted my wins, yet held on to my losses like they were the epitome of me. Looking back, I can see that my coaches all saw me. Andy saw me. My dad saw me. And now I see me, in these students.

Fostering the GM (Growth Mindset) Status in my Students

I have taught at a few schools now and have introduced/ reintroduced chess in each one of them. While I haven't lost to any of my student's yet, I'm sure a day will come where I will, and I look forward to it. I did draw to one once. The pride in his eyes has stuck with me. The sentiment Andy once shared that "When nobody believed in you, you believed in yourself", was nice for a time, but my student's will never need it, because while I'm there, there will always be someone who believes in them. I'm not teaching my students wins and losses. I want their lunch times to be fun, in a relaxed environment they feel safe in. I've also implemented memes, and I even played a blindfolded game once because two students were so excited to see how it would go.

Final Thoughts

With that, my road to GM (Growth Mindset) is now complete! When I was growing up, the chess club in school was my safe place. All in all, I'm now glad to be an Andrew, sitting proudly on the sidelines (on my humble bench), where I get to watch each student grow while enjoying chess, in a place that feels safe for them, while they travel down their own road.

Thank you so much for reading my blog. I hope you have a beautiful day.