‘I was playing sports but quietly studying, practicing and playing chess and falling in love with the game.’

Russell Makofsky, Mastic Beach

“I grew up in Mastic Beach, and went to Tangier [Smith] Elementary [School], where I first brought my chess board to school. There wasn’t a big chess community there, but I found a couple of people who liked the game so that’s where I first played. I also played varsity tennis, basketball and cross-country, but chess was not something that really came up in day-to-day life growing up where I lived.

“I remember watching ‘Searching for Bobby Fischer’ as a kid, seeing the images of Josh Waitzkin playing in Washington Square Park, and it captivated me. My grandmother was an avid player, and she bought me my first chess board when I was 7 years old.

“My other family members don’t play, but there was something inside of me that became a lifelong passion. My father would drive me into the city to Washington Square Park so I could play chess there like in the film, and that was everything to me. I was playing sports but quietly studying, practicing and playing chess and falling in love with the game.

“I was self-taught; I used the book ‘Bobby Fischer Teaches Chess.’ There weren’t many people around me who played chess, but I got a board in front of anyone I could. I did find a few people to play with as I grew up and ended up becoming a pretty competitive player. Even when I’d go into the city to play, I’d do fairly well.

“When I moved to Montreal for college, I would play chess there in the cafes late into the night, where students would congregate. There was sort of a subculture there for students who played chess, and I was a part of that. I attended Concordia [University], an English-speaking college, and never learned French, but I would play chess against people who didn’t speak English and it wasn’t important, because chess formed a bridge; you don’t communicate, you just shake hands and then play, and enjoy the experience.”

While I was coaching basketball, some parents had asked if there was anyone teaching chess.

“I graduated with a bachelor’s of commerce [degree] from the John Molson School of Business, and I had played varsity basketball for the college, which led to me getting involved with coaching youth basketball at a middle school. It was from that I learned about becoming an educator and a coach, which was a gateway to becoming a chess educator.

“When I moved back to New York in 2007, I started working at a Manhattan brokerage firm. I had thought that was what I wanted to do, but I found my heart was crushed. I dreaded waking up every morning. However, the financial crisis hit around that time, so I felt it was the time to make a career shift. I started coaching basketball in Manhattan school programs, and all the while, I was playing chess on the streets. I would play at 112th Street and Broadway, where college students, artists, all sorts of people would also come to play.

“At the same time, while I was coaching basketball, some parents had asked if there was anyone teaching chess. It helped me realize there was a need for a youth chess program, so I started my own chess coaching business in 2008. I’ve been coaching as a part of the NYC school system ever since.

“Then, in 2020, I founded The Gift of Chess when the pandemic shut schools down. In-person teaching collapsed, and we were forced to teach virtually. I found that the chess community we had been building began to fray, as the connection through virtual instruction was not the same. This led me to an idea of giving the gift of chess, by buying thousands of chess sets and then giving one to every city student I had been teaching, with the goal of refocusing and reconnecting them with chess.”

I’ve donated thousands of chess sets across the U.S. already, and I’d be happy to make donations to Long Island school districts so they can start chess clubs and programs.

“The move gained media attention, and a law firm asked me if we’d like to become an official charity, so The Gift of Chess became a nonprofit. My work also gained the attention of someone else who had been giving out chess sets across the world, and he asked me if I would like to go to Africa to give some. So, a year later, we flew chess sets to African countries, and the response was so great we came back three months later with more chess sets.

“The demand was incredible and, eventually, we brought 50,000 more sets back, reaching about 50 different countries, giving about 1,000 sets to each, and then helped them create their own chess communities. In effect, we’re helping create critical thinkers around the world. We’re also making change, because by doing this, they’re using chess as an opportunity to educate.

“I don’t live in Mastic Beach anymore, but I’m still a big fan of Wiliam Floyd High School sports and keep tabs on the teams. I’m proud of where I come from. I’ve donated thousands of chess sets across the U.S. already, and I’d be happy to make donations to Long Island school districts so they can start chess clubs and programs.

“There’s a mantra I put on the backs of the T-shirts we give out that says, ‘It is possible to do great things from a small place.’ I’ll always see myself as an underdog from Mastic Beach who dreams big, and I believe that if you do the work and put your heart into something, you can always grow beyond where you started.”

Interviewed by Ian J. Stark

‘I saw the esports industry was growing rapidly. Millions of people play and watch across the world, and there are billions of dollars out there in prizes, fees, and sponsorships.’

Mastic Beach

“I got into esports, or competitive, organized video gaming, about four years ago. I was working with a friend at the NYIT STEP program, [the] NYIT College of Osteopathic Medicine Science Technology Entry Program. We were working with high school kids, teaching them how to create a podcast, and I started to notice that when kids were given the opportunity to speak, they were very, very into esports and online gaming. It got me thinking, and I saw a chance to turn their interest into opportunities.

“Long Island Gaming League, LIGL, which I founded in 2019, really came from asking myself, ‘How do I reach the kids in a way that is going to be beneficial to them?’ I saw the esports industry was growing rapidly. Millions of people play and watch across the world, and there are billions of dollars out there in prizes, fees and sponsorships. I knew there was a real opportunity for anyone who understands the business side of things to take advantage of.

“But they had to understand that esports had to be more than just kind of playing video games. I wanted teens to think about gaming more than just, ‘How do I beat a high score?’ I wanted them to be thinking about jobs esports could turn into and what business opportunities were out there.

“Today, we work with about 150 students at Wyandanch High School. The students take our class during the school day. I went to school for business administration and marketing, so I don’t have a teaching background, so we hired teachers who are looking to work within esports. They go into the classrooms with students, and we handle the curriculum and everything else.

“The course teaches students about the history of esports. We also educate them on different facets of the business — whether it’s team development, managing, sponsorship, marketing — we kind of take them through that whole process. We have guest speakers who are in the industry who will talk to them, too. The goal at the end of the course is for every student to have a portfolio that includes a league logo they created and an esports organization in which they’ve developed. We hope they can build upon that as they continue outside of high school.”

The idea of esports and gaming is so misunderstood, but once people start coming together and really seeing the benefit…

“The first year we started, we opened the class up to students in 10th through 12th grade. It was very cool to see how they were able to work together. They’re put into teams, and we were watching how they were able to work together and create their own mini organizations. They all had to submit a final project based on their work.

“LIGL [Long Island Gaming League] does more than just work in a classroom setting. I work on building community in the esports industry overall, so we’ve worked with and reached out to local churches, local nonprofits, community organizations and libraries.

“We recently held an event at Levittown library. We had students from our high school [program] come out. We had two colleges come out, NYIT and Long Island University.

“We also talked about our esports development program that’s currently in Wyandanch High School to give other districts ideas of what they could do with the curriculum. We talked about the different types of opportunities schools can provide, like creating esports clubs and playing games competitively amongst themselves. And we talked about what happens after high school, what are some of the business opportunities around esports.

“Outside of the schools and library programs, we work with local youth organizations, in general, to educate them. It’s not just for teenagers, either. For gamers who missed playing esports in high school and who are out of college and still want to hang out with their friends in a more social way, we do what’s called a bar takeover.

“We work with a bar called Ghost in Bay Shore. Instead of being looked at as an outcast or just a gamer, they are able to see each other as like-minded people from a variety of industries — whether they might be a lawyer, a teacher or a mechanic. They can all come out and just hang out and have a good time playing some video games.

“Going forward, we want to continue to build a stronger esports presence on Long Island, working with other Long Island sports organizations. The idea of esports and gaming is so misunderstood, but once people start coming together and really seeing the benefit, I think Long Island itself can be a resource for the growing industry.”

Interviewed by KJ Bannan

‘Instead of focusing on what the girls can bring to the table, we focus on what we are bringing to the girls.’

Mastic Beach

“Growing up, we had our challenges in a very impoverished area in Riverhead. There were a lot of core values that we didn’t have time to learn, and I didn’t realize how much that played a part in my decision-making process as an adult. When I was 10, I joined Girl Scouts. I didn’t have any transportation or a fair opportunity to earn badges or go on trips because I couldn’t afford to, and because of this, I was a target for bullying. The leaders didn’t understand that I was having a really hard time at home. They didn’t believe I didn’t have a dollar for dues. I had to walk to the meetings, and by the time I got there, I was late and sweaty, and that wasn’t well received by the leaders or the girls. It made me feel inferior growing up. Then life happens and you assume you forgot these things.

“I put my daughter in Girl Scouts. I made sure she did everything they offered. She was earning badges, but then she didn’t do the work, and the leader said she could have them anyway because I paid for them. It really broke something in me and ripped off a Band-Aid because all that time, I had thought I wasn’t good enough to earn badges as a child, but it was just that I couldn’t afford them. It healed that old hurt inside of me. Then I noticed three Hispanic girls sitting alone, and my daughter mentioned they were always late and that no one talked to them. It was the defining moment — that my little angel was being raised with the very thing that ruined my childhood.

“I decided to start my own group. In 2014, I had my first meeting of the Butterfly Effect Project with eight girls at the very library I used to go to for Girl Scouts. The name has a dual meaning for me. I love butterflies. I have never seen two butterflies that look identical. But for me, it’s also reflecting my life that there was a time I thought I was this really ugly caterpillar, and then I had this awakening that started happening in my mind first that evolved to the outside. I felt like I was telling my girls that we are all perfectly imperfect creatures. The butterfly represents the constant changing of you and the appreciation of what that change looked like and that hard caterpillar stage that we go through.”

If I could talk to my 11-year-old self, I would tell her, don’t be afraid to open new doors and walk through them, that help is always on the way.

“We went from eight girls to now about 600-plus, and one chapter to about 20 across the East End, and we have a pilot boys chapter this year. Participants have the option of attending chapter meetings in Riverhead, Bellport, Northville, Flanders and Aquebogue every other week throughout the school year. We are focused on four key areas: healthy relationship development, self-care, confidence building and critical thinking. We have parents in each community who know that community running that chapter. They know what the needs are for the girls, and that’s really important. Instead of focusing on what the girls can bring to the table, we focus on what we are bringing to the girls. What opportunities can we give them to broaden their horizons? And what they need in each chapter may be different.

“We do a lot of community service. They learn life skills like how to sew, how to be respectful, how to set a table, how to agree to disagree. They learn about politics and the power of their voice. We don’’t have badges; we have shirt colors. There are no dues. We’’ll have a room of maybe 30 girls ranging from 6 to 18. When people say to me, what do you think [is] the best thing that you’re doing for the girls and for the people in the program, I say I’m allowing them to be on the same playing field with everyone else. I’m allowing them the opportunity to see themselves bigger and better than their environment they’re in. I’m allowing them to understand, accept, respect where they come from, understanding that that’s really just your launchpad. I’m creating synergy in our community.

“In 2017, I quit my job and decided to do this full time, and it was hard, but a lot of people in the community stepped up in ways I would never have envisioned to make this a reality. There were times where I sat at home in tears trying to figure out how we’re going to get to the next month. And even now we still struggle. If I could talk to my 11-year-old self, I would tell her, don’t be afraid to open new doors and walk through them, that help is always on the way, and that mankind, regardless of what we see in our direct situations, there’s always someone who has one purpose and that is to help you out.”

Interviewed by Liza Burby

‘I grew up with my father, my grandfather and my great-grandfather telling stories about the bay.’

Mastic Beach

“I’d already been playing basketball in Europe for 10 years before the WNBA started, but there were whisperings about something happening in America.

“My teammates who were overseas with me were all a very tight group: Teresa Weatherspoon, Cynthia Cooper, Jennifer Gillum, Cindy Brown. We all came back to America together and were so excited to play in the WNBA.

“Playing for the New York Liberty was a huge success. We were so lucky to be in that spot, and we were determined that the league was going to last. We spoke with fans after games and realized how important this movement was to so many women. It was a magical time.

“I knew that every season could be the last one. I played until I was 36 years old, and basketball was the only thing I’ve ever known. I coached and had a startup business. I was dedicated, but I wasn’t passionately engaged.

Who knew I would end up liking my little oyster farm?

“I discovered my passion to work on the water. I feel fully engaged in oyster farming. That’s where my soul fits. Most of my friends are still involved in sports in some way, but I think what we all still have in common is that we’re pursuing something that makes us feel alive.

“Who knew I would end up liking my little oyster farm? Aquaculture, which is the breeding and harvesting of fish and shellfish, is reinventing the bay’s ecosystem. My hope is it makes the bay so healthy that we have a resurgence of baymen, that we have abundance again in the water.

“Most people that are in aquaculture are interested in restoration. We have a Mastic Beach Conservancy here, and our hope is to have parkland, eelgrass plantings, oyster restoration sites and citizen scientists.

“I’m optimistic. I believe in humans. Obviously, they can do super destructive things, but we’re so smart collectively that I think we can figure out any problem. And above and beyond, Mother Nature is a genius. She will fix herself if we don’t figure it out.

“I grew up with my father, my grandfather and my great-grandfather telling stories about the bay. Their love was demonstrated by, ‘Let me tell you a story about this.’ I think by telling me those little intimate stories, they were saying, ‘This is yours and it’s what I loved. I hope you love it, too.’”

Interviewed by Maggie Melito

‘Growing up with such an obvious physical difference made other people see me as less of a real human being. I think a lot of people feel that way.’

Mastic Beach

“I grew up in suburban Chicago as a disabled, queer person, who was an actor. I understood that I was disabled because I had to deal with surgeries; at 13 I became a right leg amputee and began dealing with prosthetics. I don’t think I realized it at the time, but growing up with such an obvious physical difference made other people see me as less of a real human being. I think a lot of people feel that way. They focus on whatever they feel is different about them, even if they are not necessarily disabled.

“However, I was never considered limited because of my disability. I was able to audition for every role. I went to a great college for a theater degree and had a ton of performance opportunities, but once I got into the real world I started to notice that people saw me as limited. What I’ve learned over the past 12 years of being a professional disabled actor is that there’s a huge disparity in representation. Almost 25 percent of the people in the U.S. are disabled, but only 2 percent of characters in all media are disabled, and of that, only about 15 to 20 percent are played by actual disabled people.

I realized that I had placed a lot of my self-worth on my successes as an actor and other people’s perception of me.

“Decision makers need to understand that there’s a wide variety of disabilities and that all disabled people should be considered for all roles. There needs to be more representation because it leads to legislation that helps disabled people. I’ve been lucky to make appearances in ‘Broad City,’ ‘Amsterdam’ and ‘Homeland.’ I was also in wonderful projects like ‘Othello’ with Daniel Craig and Rachel Brosnahan at New York Theatre Workshop, where, before the pandemic, I was about to start rehearsals for ‘Three Sisters’ with Steve Buscemi.

“When the pandemic hit, life got so much smaller. I moved to Mastic Beach and found myself removed from my family and friends, as well as my coping mechanisms, a lot of which included achievement, trying to book the next job, and proving to myself that I am worthy and have value. I realized that I had placed a lot of my self-worth on my successes as an actor and other people’s perception of me. In contemporary society we’re not taught that we have value unless we are successful. I’ve learned that I can feel good about myself no matter what happens.”