By: Morgan Topol

My grandparents live a quiet, retired life in a small town off the Florida coast, in the one-story house they’ve lived in since my father was a young boy. When I think of “home” I think of here, but admittedly, the town is a little boring – we constantly ask ourselves what to do when we’re down there, and rarely do we come up with a revolutionary answer.

However, there’s always one way to pass the time during our visits, rooted in a decades-long family tradition. Most family traditions don’t involve gambling, but I’m thankful mine do.

In my father’s family, learning how to play poker is a sacred rite of passage. My cousins, brother and I all learned how to play Hold ’em as elementary schoolers. The four of us would sit with our Nana in the den as she’d play her online games, strategically showing her beloved grandchildren when to fold, call, bet, raise and bluff.

As I got older, my father’s childhood home would become filled with objects to show our family’s affection: chips with my grandfather’s initials, a poker table for our tournaments, and a stack of books in the TV Room with titles like “Omaha: Understanding Winning Play” and “Playing No-Limit Hold ‘Em as a Business.”

At the poker table, my family members become my competitors. It’s a good thing we love each other as much as we love winning – it makes for exhilarating games, full of suspense and just as much laughter. Remembrance, too. When someone in my family wins big with jacks, you’ll always hear my Nana exclaim “Papa Jules is in the house!”

Like my cousin Jenna before me, I began accompanying my grandparents to Club 52, their local poker room, once I turned 18. For me, sitting at that table for the first time was an accomplishment, a clear marker of adulthood indicating I was finally a true contender in the world.

I’ve been fortunate enough to meet some fascinating people at Club 52. This past November I met Hugh W. Harris, the former Director of Public Affairs at NASA’s Kennedy Space Center. Notably, Hugh detailed both the pre-launch and launch announcements for the Challenger as they took place on Jan. 28, 1986 – the day of the tragic explosion, the one witnessed by both of my parents as teenagers.

My Nana spotted Hugh at the table next to ours and told me to ask him about his former role, and I excitedly obliged once they told me about his experience in mass communication. I introduced myself and told him I was Mady’s granddaughter, and he warmly agreed to talk to me once his hand was over.

Both whip-smart and deeply kind, Hugh, now 91, told me about his time at NASA. What I admired most about this younger, recounted version of Hugh was how he effectively communicated important messages to the public, even amongst unanticipated catastrophe.

Like most people, I sometimes question my own ability to succeed in my ambitions, and occasionally have trouble trusting my own capabilities. This is even the case with poker – when I get in my own head, I play too tight. However, talking to Hugh that day helped me understand that I’m only a true contender if I have the confidence to be one.

When playing cards, sometimes you’re up and sometimes you’re down. This is also true in the professional world, particularly with high-stakes jobs where lots of eyes and ears are on you, like Hugh’s. Risks are inevitable, and you can’t win every hand. Sometimes, even disaster strikes. But if you lack the confidence to take your seat and gamble, you’ve already lost.