Teaching My Daughter "The Game of Kings" to Build Strong Families
“Chess is more than a game. It’s a lesson in leadership, love, and the family we build—each move shaping the legacy we leave behind.”
Over the past few weeks, I’ve sat down with my 6-year-old daughter to teach her chess, a game I call "The Game of Kings and Future Queens." It’s not just about moving pieces on a board—it’s about understanding the roles of leadership, partnership, and strategy. While she’s learning the rules, I’m using the game to introduce her to lessons about life, love, and family—lessons that I hope will guide her as she grows.
Today, she is my princess, but one day she will be a queen. As her father, it’s my responsibility to help her understand what that means. I want her to recognize, when the time comes, a young man who is worthy of being her husband—a man who has been raised to be a king. Someone whose parents have prepared him, just as my wife and I are preparing her, to understand the purpose of building a family that endures.
We talk about each piece on the board, and I explain that the board represents the field of battle. But it’s not war I’m teaching her—it’s about the strength and wisdom required to build and protect something valuable—a kingdom, which in this context, is synonymous with family. On one side of the board is her court, on the other, an opposing court. Each move represents decisions that will affect not just the outcome of the game but the legacy she leaves behind.
My daughter asked me, one evening, which piece on the board is the most powerful. "The king," I said without hesitation.
Her surprise was evident. "But the queen can go anywhere! The king can only move one square."
I smiled. It was a moment I had been waiting for. "Yes, the queen has more freedom of movement," I explained. "But the person who moves the least often has the most power. Think about leaders in organizations or in a family. They don’t run from place to place. Instead, people come to them, present their plans and concerns, and the leader’s response can often be just a few decisive words. That is power."
“…the person who moves the least often has the most power.”
The king, in many ways, represents that kind of leadership. He sits in his place, commanding his court, and the game revolves around him. His actions may be small—just one space at a time—but they are significant. If the king falls, the game ends. No other piece holds that kind of responsibility.
The queen, on the other hand, is a powerful force. She moves across the board with speed and precision, her role being to protect the king. But in protecting him, she also protects herself and the kingdom, or family. Every piece on the board works together for one goal: to safeguard the king, because the kingdom—or family—falls without him.
This dynamic teaches a valuable lesson about marriage and family. A strong union between husband and wife is the foundation of a thriving family. The husband and wife must protect each other. One cannot succeed without the other. This is what I want my daughter to understand—that in choosing a husband, she should look for someone who is ready to protect and advance her, just as she will protect and advance him.
As Black families, we must instill this understanding of purpose and unity in our children. Too often, society encourages a fragmented approach to family life, where individuals act in isolation rather than in partnership. But the strength of a family lies in its unity, in the shared goals of both husband and wife working toward a common vision. We must raise our sons to be kings, prepared to lead with wisdom and integrity. We must raise our daughters to be queens, capable of recognizing strength, purpose, and leadership in their husbands.
The role of the queen is not to be underestimated. Historically, kings would send their queens to parley in foreign lands where it was too dangerous for them to go. The queen's freedom of movement and skill in negotiation were vital to the survival of the kingdom. She was a diplomat, a strategist, and an essential part of the king's success. Similarly, in our families, we must empower our daughters to stand as equals, prepared to navigate challenges with wisdom and strength, all while knowing that their husbands support them fully.
This partnership, where both the husband and wife move in sync, each protecting the other, is the foundation of strong families. When my daughter moves her queen across the board, she does so knowing that the other pieces—the knights, bishops, and pawns—are there to support her. The king, even though he moves slowly, ensures that his queen is never left vulnerable. This balance of power, respect, and protection is what I want her to carry with her into adulthood.
At its heart, chess is a game of strategy, patience, and foresight—just like building a family. The choices we make, the partners we choose, and the way we prepare our children for the future all determine the legacy we leave behind. My daughter may be just learning the game now, but my hope is that as she grows, she’ll see that this game is about far more than winning or losing. It’s about understanding the value of marriage and family, and how, together, a husband and wife can build something that lasts.
“The strength of a family, like a kingdom, lies in the harmony between king and queen—each protecting the other, building something that lasts.”
