When news came that Dyhemia Young had been invited to a prestigious chess tournament, the 16-year-old San Franciscan had vanished. Her mentor, founder of the Hip-Hop Chess Federation, was worried.
July 23, 2011
When Dyhemia Young was invited to compete in a prestigious all-girls chess tournament, at first it looked like the biggest hurdle would be raising the money to get her there.
The Susan Polgar Girls’ Invitational takes place each year at Texas Tech University in Lubbock, and the price tag for flights and accommodations was around $1,600 — a hefty sum for a 16-year-old from San Francisco’s hard-knock Bayview District.
The top-rated girl from each state is invited to the annual event. Polgar, the first woman to earn the title of grandmaster, also issues two “wild card” invitations to gifted players who haven’t cracked into official competition. It’s a world some liken to preparing for the Olympics, with its need for money, lessons and dedicated parents.
But when Adisa Banjoko, founder of the Hip-Hop Chess Federation and Dyhemia’s mentor, tried to call her in mid-June to tell her the good news, he realized the money would probably be a lot easier to find than the chess player.
Dyhemia, the very definition of wild card, had disappeared.
None of the phone numbers Banjoko had for her worked anymore, and he hadn’t seen her since school let out. No one at John O’Connell High School, where he is a security guard and Dyhemia was a student, had seen the striking junior with the almond eyes, bright smile and sharp mind.
“I reached out to other kids who had gone to O’Connell on Facebook,” he recounted. “I figured between Facebook and people who worked there, if that’s not going to pull it off, that’s bad.”
Banjoko describes his protege as “a really good girl with a tumultuous home life. She’s a very delicate plant in very harsh weather conditions. It’s not whether or not she’s a good flower. It’s ‘are we going to get the conditions right to help her bloom?’ So far we haven’t.”
Dyhemia has played chess on and off since fifth grade, when her social studies teacher taught her how to navigate the 64 squares. She played for a year with Banjoko and the Hip-Hop Chess Federation in ninth grade, and he was struck by her skill. Last year, though, she began to back off.
The federation melds music, martial arts and the game of kings to teach young people the skills to help them through their difficult lives — traits like patience, planning, thinking ahead. Banjoko runs the West Coast operations; Lisa Suhay, a children’s book author from Norfolk, Va., leads the East Coast effort.
With Dyhemia scarce and time running out, Suhay hit the computer. A Google search of the girl’s name went nowhere, but a check of Google images June 24 gave Suhay and Banjoko their first lead: a missing person’s poster from 2008.
“Missing Juvenile,” its headline blared, above black-and-white photos of a wistful 13-year-old. “LSW: Blue jeans, possibly with a red jacket. Hair is in a pony tail.” And finally, a phone number for the San Francisco Police Department.
Suhay emailed the poster to Banjoko. “Missing persons on her from ’08,” she wrote. “This our girl?”
The answer was yes, and Banjoko’s heart sank. “I’m not ready for her to come up missing,” he said. “I’m not ready for her to be out of state or end up dead.”
Suhay dialed the number and was transferred to Det. Joseph Carroll, with the missing person’s unit. “I’m going to make the strangest request you are going to get all week,” she told him. A half hour later, he called back. “I’ve got a line on her,” Carroll said. But it would take nearly a month for them to connect.
Dyhemia has been in and out of the foster care system for the last three years. Recently, it turned out, she had done a brief stint in juvenile hall — officials will not disclose why — before being sent to the East Palo Alto Teen Home on June 30. That’s where Carroll tracked her down last week.
Cinderella and the Chess Queen
By Lisa Suhay
Cinderella is alive, black and living in San Francisco’s foster care system right now.
Her name is Dyhemia, age 16, a talented chess player currently dug so deep in the system it took a top police detective to track her and pass on the news that she was selected to compete in the prestigious Susan Polgar Girls’ Invitational in Texas which begins July 24th.
I know this because this girl is a Hip-Hop Chess Federation player, selected on the recommendation of her mentor, HHCF Founder Adisa Banjoko and myself. We run free chess play, lessons and Life Strategies mentoring for at-risk children as unfunded volunteers.
Susan Polgar told me she has a single remaining Wild Card invitation to give to a deserving, unknown player. I remembered all the tales Adisa has told me over the years about Dyhemia.
It seemed like such a simple good deed to help facilitate. I called Adisa he gave agreed this was a great choice. Polgar and her board issued the invitation. All that was left to do was give her the good news and find someone to buy a plane ticket and donate the $500 for room and board for the 6-day intensive chess training and competition where girls learn to improve their game and then play for scholarships to Texas Tech University, plus prizes.
If anyone deserves a shot it is this girl who has known too many people interested in hurting, or renting her body, but few willing to invest in her mind. She has been a runaway and victim, never a winner.
Sadly, after a week Adisa called to tell me the girl could not be found. Everyone she knew was stumped and the Foster system was proving impenetrable. All was lost.
The weight of responsibility was crushing as I sat down to call Polgar and decline the invitation. Instead of dialing I sat at the computer and shook Google until, searching image files, a three-year-old missing child flyer from the San Francisco Police Department fell into my virtual lap. Adisa confirmed it was the right girl. She was known for running from foster homes, a walking lost and found. Not an uncommon occurrence in any system.
I called the number on the flyer and was transferred to Head Detective Joseph Carroll of the Missing Persons Unit. “I am going to make the strangest request you are going to get all week,” I said. He laughed.
After hearing all about this Cinderella story the hard-bitten city detective, who has seen more than his share of unhappy endings, came to a decision that changed the game, “I am going to find this girl. Let’s see if we can make something happen.”
Within 30-minutes he called and said, “I have a line on her.” Two days later I was talking to the head of Social Services who, after expressing much skepticism at the notion of a street-smart teen attending the nation’s most prestigious chess event for girls, agreed to allow her to attend. Multiple systems are in place to keep her safe, sound and mentored by women throughout the trip.
Cinderella can go to the ball, but…she needs a fairy Godparent to pay her way.
I believe God is a chess player and He didn’t run this whole gambit without a solid closing strategy. Problem is The Lord plays Blitz chess and the clock is ticking.
Someone reading this story right now is the one who is supposed to make the next move that makes this girl a winner. Maybe it’s a “simul,” the kind of game where one Grand Master simultaneously plays dozens of players at once. In that case we’re all in this game. We’re all invested in the outcome so let’s each invest a dollar in Dyhemia.
*A special Cinderella Fund has been set-up at The Susan Polgar Foundation: 6923 Indiana Ave., Suite 154, Lubbock, Tx. 79413. This is a 501(c)(3) non-profit corporation.
Lisa Suhay is a children’s author and volunteer with the Hip-Hop Chess Federation.