Two Champions, One Family: Hear Their Inspiring Story | Short Film Showcase

[Music] I think the secret of my longevity is that I haven't really been hit that much. My style of fighting is that of a boxer, which is more movement-based, and I don't brawl with a person, so I'm not really exchanging these punches and getting hit a lot. I feel that's one of the main reasons why I'm still in this [Music] game.

My father is a dancer and he still teaches dance. Growing up, I always wanted to be a dancer, emulate my father, and my goal in life was to be that prima ballerina even though there were no black prima ballerinas around. I was going to be the first. For me, dance was always telling a story without words. You know, if you're sad or happy, watching it will change how you feel, and that resonated with me as a young child because I was shy growing up. So for me, not to say anything but to tell you everything, that's what dance meant to me.

[Music] [Music] To become a Grandmaster was a big dream of mine when I was growing up. It turned out there were no black Grandmasters around, which didn't make any sense. I wasn't bent on becoming the first black Grandmaster; I wanted to become a Grandmaster. That's what mattered. I was a fan of all these great players through history, and the word Grandmaster just resonates no matter where you are in the world.

But in chess, it's just, you know, the gods of Mount Olympus. He's good. I'm sure I'm going to lose a first game.

We'd all come together to visit my dad on a Sunday. He would cook us pancakes, and we'd sit around and play all kinds of games. He was a great games player; he was sharp. He was always predicting different things in games and explaining to us the logic of how he figured things out. That really got us into the seriousness of games and the analytical side of games, trying to play well and not just horsing around and putting the pieces down or putting dominoes down. If you made a mistake, we'd all call you on it, that you weren't really thinking about exactly what you should be doing.

So that was important to us, and I think that was a big part of us being more competitive and learning to be analytic in everything we did. My family is highly competitive, and it's just something that, as a youngster, I knew that I just wanted to beat my brothers. I think that's it. I think just growing up with these older brothers who were always doing something and I was the only girl. I was the youngest child, and I wanted to run with the boys. You know, you can't tell me that I couldn't do what you're doing.

My brother Maurice, who was a year older than me, was in every class before me. If I went into class, the teacher would say, "Oh, you're Maurice's sister. Oh, he's such a great student." If I got a 90, he had gotten a 95, so I always strove to beat him. Alicia was shy; it took Alicia a while even to get out of her shell. She was always the baby sister; she was always the one who had to protect. She was the one who played the worst. I remember in the games; now she's vicious. She's maybe the most competitive of all of us.

[Music] For me, being in that ring with someone is being able to move that piece along, which is my opponent, to the spot where it's not just pitting me against you; it's putting me against how I can control whatever you do to beat me.

I came to America when I was 12 years old. My mother had raised enough money and also figured out getting our papers, getting our green card in place so that she could bring us all up. I knew I had a mom; I knew my mom existed. I saw her a few times, but to actually finally know that I was going to live with her, be with her, be raised by her, be in the same house with her was really a dream come true.

I remember bragging to my friends in Jamaica that I was going to go to the United States and live the life. When we came to the United States, I had lots of hopes that we were going to live in a penthouse apartment with a pool on the roof. I remember when we got out of the airport and we were driving down L Boulevard, and I saw garbage on the streets that I didn't expect. Then we pulled up to this two-story building, and on the corner were four burnt-out buildings. I looked around; it was like burnt-out buildings, garbage on the street, ugly-looking building we're about to live in.

I looked at my mother and I said, "Who are we visiting?" and she was so hurt by the line. She looked at me and said, "This is where you're going to live, fool." My mom raised us as a single parent, you know, that you had to do everything for yourself. My mom is working. I have to go to school, come home, do everything that you want done, get it done. So I think growing up I was always really self-sufficient and always had a purpose.

Brownsville was just gunshots every night; that's what I remember. I'd be inside studying chess, and the gunshots would be going off somewhere. You could hear them off in the distance. It's like the drug dealers were letting everybody know who runs the neighborhood, and you just wanted to be inside. You had to be inside.

I think that chess allowed me to focus on something when that environment was just disgusting to be in. I wasn't outside all the time. I went to school, went to dance, came back home, studied, and so the continues. My story is funny getting from dance to boxing. I had no interest in boxing growing up, and it wasn't until I was injured, I tore my meniscus, and that stopped my dance career completely. I was studying at Alvin Ailey's; I was dancing, you know, 6 to 8 hours per day, and I couldn't do that anymore.

I went back to school to get my college degree, and just to keep in shape, I started doing karate. And for me, dance is performance; it's all about performing, and every other sport for me is the same. The critical game that made me finally cross the divide was against an International Master, his name is Adrian Neesu from Romania. I remember that afternoon, and I was ironing, and in the process of ironing, I thought about my grandmother who had passed on. I remembered she used to always say, "Jack of all trades, master of none."

I always saw it like a curse, this burden of this phrase on my head, and then all of a sudden it occurred to me that it wasn't a curse and that she was saying it out of love. Right at the moment when I realized that this burden I had put on myself would always come close but never really succeed, I realized how stupid I was to have this thought.

This woman who had long since been dead was just calling me to be excellent, to just be focused and be great at what you do. I dropped the iron, I started crying, and I got myself together, picked myself up, and went to the game. I was playing the game, and I remember somewhere around move 14, I just had this incredible sense of calm come over me. It was like, you know what, no matter what happens, I'm going to be okay. If I don't win today, it'll be another tournament; I still had another game the next day, so maybe it'll be the next day.

I was just so calm; it was eerie. I played the game and just beat him easily. I don't feel like I'm 48. I don't know what 48 is supposed to feel like. You know, it feels like one foot in the grave. I don't think so; I'm not beat up, so I will be fighting in my 50s that much.

[Music] [Music] I know I never want to sit still. I never want to be who I was yesterday; forget it! A year ago, I don't even want to want to be who I was yesterday. I always want to have some insight the next day that says, "That's interesting. Wow, I didn't think of it like that." What did I learn today? That's a big question for me: what did I learn today?

[Music] [Music]