It was my daughter’s idea. She heard about a chess camp and she wanted to do it. So she spent four days last week at "Let’s Play Chess," a small storefront on Fourth Avenue between 8th and
9th Streets. For three intensive hours a day, it was chess, chess, and more chess.   

When we first got there, I didn’t think she’d want to stay. Or if I’d want to leave her there. I’m not sure what I was expecting but Let’s Play Chess’ dreary storefront is a messy room with four tables with three chess sets each. There’s a display case filled haphazardly with chess merchandise and a bulletin board covered with photos of LPC chess teams and clippings from the New York Times, Newdsay, and the Daily news about chess in the schools.

Worse, there were only three other campers and they were all boys. And the teacher wasn’t the one she expected: the adored Tag who teaches at PS 321.

But my daughter was okay with it. She likes chess and this place just reeks of it. The teacher immediately grabbed the kids’ attention standing in the front of the room with a pointer and a large Velcro chess board going over chess basics. She seemed  engrossed enough for me to leave.

When I came to pick her up, she was happy to see me but she didn’t budge from the game she was in the middle of. A good sign. At McDonald’s afterwards she was mezzo-mezzo about the experience: she  liked the chess, but didn’t much like the boys-only atmosphere. Still, she agreed to try it again if I went with her (or found a girl to join).

The second day, I pushed aside the old coffee containers and newspapers on the teachers’ table, and set up my laptop, ready to work while "observing" my daughter’s day at chess camp. I was pleased to see that my daughter really understands chess and is, according to the teacher, very smart about it. She seemed comfortable enough to raise her hand frequently and answer the teacher’s strategy questions.

Overall, the kids seemed very engaged by the teacher’s on-going discussion of famous chess moves, chess history, and strategy. Stopping only for an occasional snack of pretzels and warm Poland Spring water, it was all-chess, all-the-time. The teacher, who also teachers at private schools in Manhattan, clearly lives and breathes chess and knows exactly how to teach young children.

After a while, she let me take a walk and do some errands. From that point on, I knew my daughter would stick out the rest of the week. Especially, since the teacher promised special prizes at week’s end.

On Friday, the promise of prizes propelled the day. The group had come a long way together and they all seemed to be getting along nicely. At the end of the day, the teacher gave my daughter a trophy because "she improved the most of everybody this week." He also gave out Let’s Play Chess t-shirts to all the kids.

This coming week, she’s off to a camp called Kim’s Kids for swimming, hiking, and special trips. She’ll do that three days a week and spend the other two days at a storefront on Fourth Avenue – her idea – playing chess and looking for another trophy, no doubt. Looking for another trophy.