Why I Play Chess—and Encourage My Kids to Play Too

A dad of five reflects on chess, family, and the value of practicing thoughtful decisions and recovering from mistakes.

By Diego Avalon

Category

Chess

Tags

Parent perspectiveYouth developmentResearch & evidence

I play chess because I enjoy it. Also, because it gives me repeated opportunities to practice some pretty good life lessons.

I’ve never been much of a gambling man. I prefer a game where thoughtful decisions matter and there are no dice or “bad-hand” of cards to blame. Chess gives me that challenge. Every move asks me to pause, notice what has changed, consider what another person might be planning, compare alternatives, and live with my decision. Including the blunders.

I’m a dad of five, and I encourage my children to play for the same reasons. I want them to enjoy the game, experience the satisfaction of learning something difficult, and practice responding well when things don’t go their way. It’s one of my secret weapons as a parent and coach.

A Video That Captures the Appeal

Please, don’t send me a hate email if your research says otherwise. I’ve read both sides of the benefits argument to conclude the truth is likely somewhere in the middle. I’m also not proposing that chess is good while <your-choice-of-activity> is bad. My kids wrestle and engage in other personal interests. “Two things can be true at once.” Chess can offer real benefits, and plenty of other activities can offer those same benefits.

Chess is amazing (according to the video)!

However, this video captures much of what draws me to game, especially its’ closing discussion about recovering from mistakes. You make a move, realize what you’ve missed, and feel your heart sink. Then you have another decision to make. How do I respond?

I recognize that experience. I’ve watched my children experience it, too.

Most of us could likely agree that chess can provide occasions to practice a habit and memorable examples for applying good principles elsewhere. But the opportunity is not a guarantee. A player could respond to mistakes with reflection or with blame and frustrated rematches.

This video gives me a useful way to explain something I value: A game where I can practice making decisions, facing consequences, and finding a constructive next step. As a parent and an individual, I can help my kids, and myself, connect those experiences to situations beyond the board.

Some Lessons I Try to Practice Through Chess

Attention and purposeful decisions

Before touching a piece, we learn to ask: “What is my opponent threatening? What changed after that last move? Is my intended move safe?”

I like that pause. It is an opportunity to look beyond what we want to do and notice what is actually happening.

We cannot calculate every possibility, so we compare options and make a decision with the understanding we have. Sometimes we attack. Sometimes we defend, improve a piece, or reconsider the plan entirely. The goal is to move with a purpose.

Consequences and accountability

The board gives us concrete feedback. A careless move can cost a piece. A thoughtful move can create an opportunity, even if the reward takes time to appear.

In a standard game, both players follow the same rules; with a clock, we usually begin with the same amount of time. Our experience and preparation may differ, but each of us must make decisions and accept their consequences.

That is something I want my children to practice: take responsibility, learn what you can, and give the next decision your attention.

Resilience after a blunder

One of my favorite parenting moments came after a tournament round. My son rushed over and said:

Dad! I lost my queen early on, but didn’t give up and pulled out the win!

I loved that he won. I loved even more that he stayed engaged when he had a reason to feel discouraged.

Losing a queen or rook does not necessarily end the game. There may still be opportunities to defend, complicate the position, or take advantage of an opponent’s mistake.

We also talk about the consequences of negative self-talk and the temptation to give up. Feeling disappointed is understandable. What I want my children to practice is responding to that feeling without letting it make every subsequent decision for them.

Sometimes their best effort will still end in a loss. I want to recognize the effort and composure in those games, too.

Respect for another person’s perspective

Our opponents have plans of their own. Good play requires taking those plans seriously.

Sometimes another player sees something we miss. Sometimes our preparation does not produce the result we hoped for. We can examine our mistakes while also giving the other person credit.

I want my children to be able to say, “That was a good move,” and mean it.

Learning through patterns and practice

As we improve, positions that once looked confusing begin to make sense. We recognize a familiar tactic, a vulnerable king, or a piece that needs a better square.

That is one of the pleasures of learning chess: preparation becomes something we can use.

Research on chess expertise supports the importance of this accumulated knowledge. For me, the parenting lesson is straightforward: understanding develops through study, practice, feedback, and time.

Managing emotions

Chess gives us plenty of opportunities to experience impatience, disappointment, overconfidence, and pressure.

Those experiences give us something specific to discuss afterward: Did you rush because you were excited? Did one mistake distract you for the rest of the game? What helped you settle down?

The conversation is part of the teaching.

Community and time together

Chess also gives us a shared activity across ages and backgrounds. It creates opportunities for competition, friendship, mentorship, and sportsmanship.

And sometimes it simply gives me time across a board from one of my children.

That is valuable all by itself.

Why We Keep Playing

In conclusion, Chess is fun. The broader habits I hope to encourage requires attention of their own, but now I have examples to fall back on. Good struggle stories and personal experiences are worth their weight in Gold.

I don’t need chess to promise higher intelligence or better grades to make room for it in our family.

We enjoy it. It challenges us. It brings us together. And it gives us repeated opportunities to practice something I care deeply about: making a thoughtful decision, learning from what happens, and meeting the next moment with our best effort.