More than mom’s night out: A new generation embraces the beloved tile game.
by Ken Garfield
I thought my lasting image of mahjong would be my Grandma Betty playing at Shorehaven Beach Club in the Bronx, New York, some 60 years ago.
I was wrong. I have a new lasting image. Six kids, ages 6 to 12, are gathered around a mahjong set. Together, they are happy to explain why this exotic game invented in 19th-century China, introduced to America by immigrants in the 1920s and embraced years ago by Jewish women, has found a home among children and youth around SouthPark and beyond.
The only difference between Grandma Betty and 6-year-old Eliza Butler is that one smoked during her games and the other doesn’t. However, as Jack and Jillian Butler’s daughter so succinctly put it, there is a common goal. “Winning.”
The mahjong gang, from left: Rowe Wilson, Addie Rose Reardon, Jackson Altieri, Eliza Butler, Holden Altieri and William Altieri. Photo by Ellen Wilson.
Mahjong clearly has expanded from the Borscht Belt bungalows and resort hotels of upstate New York to, well, everywhere.
In April, Forbes wrote that the game is powerful enough to take on societal forces: “In an era where digital burnout and loneliness are rising, mahjong offers a tangible antidote.” The National Mah Jongg League (there’s more than one way to spell it) has 350,000 members. Charlotte’s Jill Graham, who teaches the game through her Queen City Mahjong business, gave 736 lessons in 2022. She’s on track for 1,200 lessons in 2025.
Women still dominate. But the fact that there’s a “junior” version says a lot. The four SouthPark area moms who jumped at the chance to scoop up their kids and sing the praises of mahjong agree. It won’t be long before school mahjong clubs compete with other extracurricular activities for participants.
For the uninitiated, the game is played with 144 tiles, each one a little work of art. Think rummy. The goal is to create “four melds and a pair,” or as one of the moms put it, “Complete a line.” For more details than this, go online or take a lesson. We need to get to the kids.
Eliza already told us why she enjoys the game. Let’s hope the mahjong Gods protect her from counting on a payday when she wins. Like most modern-day pursuits, you can bet.
Rowe Wilson, 8, likes mahjong because he can play with his parents, Ellen and Scott Wilson, and 11-year-old sister, Miller. Miller enjoys the game even if she feels the need to get up and do a handstand during a match. A kid can only sit for so long. (FYI, Rowe and Miller are two of the writer’s four grandchildren.)
Danielle and Michael Altieri’s three boys – Jackson (12), Holden (10) and William (7) – all play. Their mom learned first, then in her best pleading voice asked the boys, “Will you play with me?” They said yes.
Eliza and 6-year-old Addie Rose, daughter of Jordan and Schuyler Reardon, are friends. One Saturday night while the men and boys were at a Charlotte FC soccer game, the mothers and daughters sat at the dining-room table. At one end, Jillian and Jordan played mahjong over a glass of wine. At the other end, Eliza and Addie Rose played over a glass of milk.
It’s more than fun and games. (The kids couldn’t talk about this part. They were busy lining up tiles and knocking them over dominoes-style.) The moms agree that mahjong and other games played by kids, from UNO to Yahtzee to Rummikub, come with meaningful side benefits.
You’re not just staring at a screen.
You have to master the rules of a complicated game.
You must focus your attention.
You get to be with your family, handstands and all.
You can talk while playing, not just about the game but about why Mom won’t let you walk around the mall with your friends, unchaperoned.
What else in this world can claim all that?
I wish my Grandma Betty was here to see it. SP
Ken Garfield is a freelance writer and editor in Charlotte.
