The Immortality of Influence:. Cecil Murphey

kicked off the team because of his behavior. Mr. Jackson, who oversaw the chess program at the Robert Morris School, said Demetrius wouldn’t listen to him. Mr. Leroy Harvey, who is my fraternity brother in Kappa Alpha Psi and a good friend, saw great potential in Demetrius. He recognized the boy’s many discipline problems and agreed he should be removed from the team. Like many young boys who grow up in homes where there are no men, Demetrius didn’t know how to respond to discipline from a man.

      Mr. Harvey asked me if I would take an interest in Demetrius when he came to Vaux. He cared about his student and asked me to care as well. Without the slightest hesitation, I agreed.

      When Demetrius came to Vaux, he changed. Somehow, the positive influences from Mr. Harvey and others had taken effect. Demetrius not only played chess, but became one of the best chess players ever to live in his community.

      My fondest memories of Demetrius are from the chess tournament at Parsippany, New Jersey, in 1997. He and his family had recently moved and his clothes were in storage, but he decided to go to the tournament anyway. Despite the circumstances, he was absolutely determined to do his best. We had to buy him clothes to wear. I smiled as I watched him. As he dressed, his tie had to be straight, and his suit had to be neat and clean (even though it would be wrinkled by the end of the day). His commitment and determination paid off. At Parsippany, he defeated an expert-level player, something that had not happened in thirty-five years at that tournament. To see Demetrius overcome some very large obstacles and be inducted into the National Honor Society was uplifting.

      To watch Demetrius win at the U.S. Amateur East Chess Championship was truly an exciting moment. The U.S. Amateur East is the largest team-versus-team event in the world, even larger than the Olympics, with more than 220 teams. I was proud of Demetrius and his teammates, who beat players from Bucknell University—and a team of four men whose combined age was more than two hundred years. This was beyond everyone’s belief.

      Afterward, several tournament officials told me, “We want to honor that young man. We’re going to treat him and your entire team to dinner in the hotel restaurant.”

      “Sir, are you sure you want to let my children in your hotel restaurant?” I asked. This was the Parsippany Hilton. “These are inner-city kids and they don’t know what it’s like to eat in a place like that. If you want to do something for them, give me a few dollars and I’ll take them to McDonald’s.”

      “No, we want them to have a special dinner so we can honor them.”

      “Sir, you don’t want to let my children—”

      “No, this was a great achievement and has never been done before in thirty-five years. We want to treat all of the children to dinner.”

      I didn’t argue again. Just before we ate, I took the children to the side and I said, “Listen, we’re going to go in this big restaurant and we’re going to eat.” I tried to explain that this was big-time. “So if you see something on the menu and can’t pronounce it, don’t order it.”

      We went in, sat down, and received menus. Of course, they ordered filet mignon and crab bisque (“fill-it mig-non” and “bis-kay” to the kids). They couldn’t pronounce the words but they ordered them anyway.

      I shook my head and laughed.

      In retrospect, I’m glad they had that opportunity. This was new for them. That evening, they began to realize that there are young people who eat in expensive places every day, or at least every week. They saw other children who were exposed to nice restaurants and excellent environments. That also told them, “You have eaten here once; you can do it again.”

      I realized it was important for our children to have that experience. It’s no accident that most of those young people present at that dinner are in college now.

      More recently, Demetrius was nominated for the National Collegiate Honor Society. At the time he was going through a most difficult period in college—his Aunt Francine had died. She had raised him as her son. It was a tough time for Demetrius but that young man had already overcome so much.

      That’s the power of self-discipline and personal influence.

      Denise Pickard, who became famous for defeating Arnold Schwarzenegger in a chess match, is now in college. She followed her chess buddies Demetrius, Earl, and Nathan to Kutztown University in Pennsylvania. Anthony Harper, another student who played chess for us, has become a phenomenal basketball player, and he still plays chess. He’s in college in West Virginia. I learned recently that he had been offered scholarships to about fifteen four-year colleges across the country. Thomas Allen, who played the 1999 Nationals in Ohio without losing a single game, is in college in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. Latoria Spann, who knew the French Defense better than any boy to ever touch a chess piece at Vaux, is in college in Philadelphia studying nursing.

      Those were all children who started playing chess and were exposed to environments where they could see the benefits of getting educated. I saw how important personal influence was. Those students have accomplished many great things and I am proud of every one of them.

      When I was offered additional money and authority to leave Vaux Middle School, it didn’t take me a second to turn down that money. The transfer had nothing to do with money. I refused because some of those young people depended on me. The children didn’t know, but this worked both ways: I also needed them.

      This isn’t a job where I simply spread my arms and do all the giving. I have also received—more than I can possibly explain. I draw a lot of my inspiration from the passion of my students and their families. When I talk to their parents and see the earnestness in their eyes and hear the concern in their hearts, I am proud they allow me to influence their children. They believe their children can become successful—or at least they want them to try.

      Part of my concern is that people sacrifice their relationships—that is, they don’t recognize the power of their personal imprint. They don’t spend enough time with their spouses or their children. I’m guilty myself and I’m committed to making changes. Some of us are so busy doing things in the community or putting our energies into our work that we have nothing left for the most important people in our lives. I almost lost my family because of my inability to see how much they needed me. On many occasions, my wife and children would be home while I was at the school or some community event. The life of the spouse of an educator can be lonely. Our work requires so much time spent away from home. Several times Shawnna told me that I was ruining our relationship by spending so much of my time at school and chess tournaments with the students.

      When I took the chess team to Parsippany, New Jersey, I made that trip without my wife’s blessing. Officials had scheduled the tournament on Valentine’s Day and my wife had eagerly looked forward to spending the day with me.

      I begged her to allow me to take the students on the trip and celebrate with her at a later date. Shawnna didn’t argue because she wanted to support my work in the community. But I knew—even then—that she preferred to have me home to be with her. I failed her. She asks so little of me.

      The students played successfully, and it was one of our great triumphs. However, by the time I returned to Philadelphia, I had admitted to myself that I was wrong. Almost as soon as I walked inside our house, I said, “I’m sorry. I was wrong. I shouldn’t have gone. I could have sent someone else.”

      Shawnna forgave me. She understood my passion for the children and my dedication to the community. I’m grateful, but this was a matter of priority. I had failed. Shawnna is my wife, the person I love most in the world. She also needed to know that I had a personal commitment to her—a commitment that came first. By going to Parsippany on Valentine’s Day, I had placed my career and personal interest before my family.

      “I won’t make that mistake again,” I promised. “You’re too important to me.”

      3

      The Influence of Parents

      As a single parent, my wonderful mother raised eight children. For her, the children always came first, and we