Phyllis Siegel may not have coined the phrase “Once a teacher, always a teacher,” but she certainly embodies it. Twenty years into retirement after a 30-plus-year career teaching French and sixth grade in the Mehlville School District, the 74-year-old now spends her time teaching bridge and mahjong across the St. Louis area.

“What can I say?” she says with a laugh. “I just love teaching. I love playing. I love bridge, I love mahj — and I love teaching them both.”

Siegel is passionate about both games, though for different reasons. “Bridge is a partnership game, while mahj is individual,” she explains. “You can learn mahj in one night — then it’s all about practice. The rules stay the same. But with bridge, there’s a whole series of concepts to learn before you can really start playing.”

Siegel and I met recently when I joined a weekly mahjong class—a band of seven brave women, armed with snacks and no idea what we were doing. Our timing was impeccable: we started just as the 2025 “official” mahjong card dropped. As an approved seller, Siegel hooked each of us up with a card for $15 (its cost). No sharing allowed — it’s copyrighted, sacred, and apparently more legally protected than most streaming accounts.

After giving us a crash course in the basics—plus some illustrated cheat sheets that made us feel mildly competent—Siegel lovingly tossed us into the deep end. One minute we were nodding along, the next we were rolling dice, Charleston-ing like the dickens and racking tiles ready (or not) for the game to begin.

The 2025 card features 71 hands, but somehow there are 1,002 possible combinations. Also, there are “concealed” hands, which are basically stealth mode for your brain. Oh, and there’s a mistake in this year’s card —but Siegel, ever the calm sensei, told us not to worry. It wouldn’t ruin our fun.

She was right. Before long, we were crakking, bamming and dotting with reckless joy — and yes, some consternation —eventually shouting “Mahjong!” like seasoned pros. 

Bridge, mahjong and masterpoints

Siegel grew up in Queens and Great Neck, N.Y., then made her way to St. Louis to attend Washington University — where she earned both a bachelor’s and master’s in education. She decided to stay in St. Louis so she could live on her own — she says her parents wouldn’t have understood if she returned home and didn’t live with them.

It was at WashU where she picked up bridge, thanks to a few dormmates who needed a fourth player. “We’d go to dinner, then play bridge until they kicked us out,” she says. “I just loved the game. I caught the bridge bug—and it turned out I was actually good at it.”

Her leap from player to teacher came courtesy of a friend’s husband who ran a continuing ed program in Mehlville. He needed someone to teach bridge at night, and Siegel thought why not? “I wasn’t exactly qualified,” she admits, “but I figured — I teach school, I play bridge, I can teach bridge.”

After she retired, she dove deeper into the world of duplicate bridge—where everyone plays the same hands but at different times. Once she started competing in tournaments, masterpoints fell into her lap like confetti at a tickertape parade.”

“I got my Life Master in five years — that was the easy one,” she says, casually. “Then I went for Gold Life Master. You need 2,500 points for that. I got it. And honestly, if I never reach another level, I’m good.”

She eventually became certified to teach bridge, joined the American Bridge Teachers Association and now serves as a regional director. Every summer, she heads to the ABTA’s national convention — this July it’s in Philadelphia, but she’s already excited about next spring, when the event comes to St. Louis.

Learning — and teaching — mahjong also came about after Siegel retired.

“One of my friends invited me to a Dixie Chicks concert with another friend of hers,” she recalls. “When I asked (that friend) what she did, she said she played mahjong. I told her I always wanted to learn. My mom played when I was a kid, but she never taught me. I still have her set.” 

That conversation led to an invitation to join a Monday mahj game at a retirement center in Creve Coeur. Siegel picked the game up quickly just by watching — and before long, she was winning.

“The thing with mahj is that you have to have the ability to find hands and the ability to change hands if things don’t work out,” she says. “There’s a certain amount of luck in the game, but also some skill, strategy and socialization.”

Teaching, traveling and giving back

Like bridge, Siegel started teaching mahjong by happenstance. While leading bridge classes at The Lodge Des Peres, several members requested to learn mahj. Once again, she reasoned: I know how to teach, I play mahj, I can teach mahj.

Divorced and game for most anything, Siegel later found herself teaching mahjong on a cruise. A friend was onboard as a bridge instructor, and when the ship needed someone to teach mahj, Siegel stepped up.

These days, she’s all in. She teaches bridge and mahjong six days a week at places like the Affton Community Center, St. Louis Bridge Center, Chesterfield Community Center, Oasis, Clarendale Clayton and The Lodge — and on Sundays, she runs games.

She also gives back, organizing bridge and mahj tournaments to raise money for causes close to her heart, including the Harvey Kornblum Jewish Food Pantry, the National Council of Jewish Women’s Back to School! Store and the St. Louis Breast Cancer Coalition. Her next fundraiser? Social bridge and mahjong play on June 28 at the Bridge Center benefiting the Alzheimer’s Association.

But for Siegel, it’s not all cards and tiles. She’s a world traveler who has visited all seven continents, and a tennis enthusiast who has attended all four Grand Slam tournaments. She slows down her teaching in the summer to chase adventures and see more of the world.

Teaching young people and embracing lifelong play

Siegel is also dedicated to ensuring that bridge and mahj thrive into the future. She once taught bridge to kids at local schools and at Youth Bridge Camp in Carlinville, Ill. “The camp died during COVID and hasn’t been reactivated,” she says. “Unfortunately, the average (age) bridge player is 70. If we don’t get young people learning, the game could eventually disappear.”

And that, she says, would be a real loss. Bridge sharpens the mind — it’s all about strategy, decision-making and problem-solving. Or as she puts it with one of her classic “Phyllis-isms”: “I never lose at bridge. I either win or I learn.”

Mahjong, on the other hand, is having a moment. It’s attracting younger players and riding a wave of renewed popularity. As actress Julia Roberts, a proud mahjong devotee, once told Stephen Colbert: “The concept of mahjong is to create order out of chaos based on random drawing of tiles.” Is that a metaphor for life or what?

Like a parent not wanting to choose between their kids, Siegel devotes equal time to both bridge and mahjong. Just peek into her closet for proof.

“I’m a total bridge and mahjong T-shirt junkie,” she says. “It used to be you could only buy them at conventions but now I can find a lot online.”

In closing, here’s another Phyllis-ism I’ll leave you with, a philosophy that applies whether you’re playing casually or in it to win it: 

“Learn the game first. If you want to compete, compete. Or just play socially for fun. As long as your mind’s working, you can play forever,” she says. “You don’t stop playing because you get old — you get old because you stop playing.”