Swankette the Speech Geek
Once upon a time (a very long time ago) I was a member of my high school speech and debate team. I am also engaged to someone who was once a member of his high school speech and debate team. I actually believe it's imprinted on his genetic code, because all of his siblings were also on the speech and debate team, and plans are already being made for a speech and debate team to be created at the high school one of the nephews will attend so that he, also, can participate in his high school speech and debate team. Sweetie also coaches the speech and debate team at the high school where he teaches. So, really, we do have an argument for being one of the dorkiest couples ever on the planet.
But that is not what compels me to write this evening. My fond memories of speech team combined with my fondness for Sweetie (and wanting to see him occasionally, which is near impossible during debate season) I often offer up my services as a judge at high school debate meets. Tonight was the start of the tournament which will allow students to qualify for the national tournament.
Back in the stone ages of my high school days I spent a year doing Cross-ex debate. Had moderate success, but moved onto other events after one year because I didn't like how I was going to be partnered up if I choose to continue. Because Sweetie doesn't offer Cross-ex at his school I have never been asked to judge cross-ex, which is no skin off my back because due to the evolution of the event it didn't seem much fun to judge anyhow. Nowadays it's all about how fast you can talk and finding the "killer card" or piece of evidence so amazing it blows the other team out of the water. There was some of that going on back in my day, but we also took a little bit of time to actually DEBATE, which seems nonexistent nowadays.
But tonight they were desperate. There are a series of rules involved in the national qualifying tournament to insure that teams get "clean" judges - you can't judge a team from your own school, you often can't judge a team you've judged earlier that day, and as the competition winnows itself down they have three judges in each round to guarantee that you get your fair shake. You see where this is going, don't you? They were so desperate for judges, and Sweetie mentioned that I had once participated in the event, so they sucked me into judging a round. It was a triple-judged round, so my vote was not enough for you to win - worst case it was a tiebreaker if the other two judges disagreed.
And so I judged. The other two judges had laptops that probably had special debate note-taking software installed on it. I had a yellow legal pad and two pens. Although the students were frequently talking so fast I couldn't take any notes because hell if I knew what they were saying anyway. But the further we got into the round the more I felt justified in being there. This was my way of passing on the memories from my high school debating career on to some other high school kid. Because despite what these kids may think now, in 2022 it will be more about the memories then whether or not they won this specific round.
All the rounds of debate I did that one year in high school have been distilled down to three distinct memories that stay with me to this day:
Memory #1: The first major tournament we attended my partner and I actually made it to finals. We were running a horrible case, but because it was novice division the other teams weren't able to adequately debate how horrible our case was and we were actually able to win rounds. Except we knew the case was horrible - at a previous, lesser, tournament a power house judge (who, incidentally, was a graduate of our high school) spoke to us after the other team left the room and said, "That's a horrible case. I've told your Senior team what a horrible case that is. The other team you were debating was more horrible than that case, so you won the round, but if I ever hear that case again you will lose the round." Going into finals the risk was too great, we couldn't run the crappy case, so we had to learn a new case. In an hour. Five of us spent an hour locked in a music practice room at the college we were at, with the senior members of the team drilling the case into my partner's and my heads. There were Funyuns involved. My partner was absorbing it better than I was, so it was deemed that I would read the first speech and he would give the response speech. We walked into finals, and said judge was there. Thank GOD we didn't have to run the crappy case! The other team was prepared for the crappy case, so when we started talking about Cuba instead of about education they were floored. After I read the first speech the cross-examination took place. I was asked a question that, as a debater in finals at a major tournament I was required to know the answer to. But I didn't. I responded, "My partner will cover that in his speech." And yet, despite my not having a clue, we won the round. I still have a copy of the ballot that said judge completed. We were competing against a team whose mascot was the Pirates, and there is a drawing of a pirate ship being blown out of the water.
Memory #2: We came across a team from Roseburg High School at several different meets. Every time we faced them we were always on the affirmative and they were on the negative (dumb luck). And every time we faced them it came down to the same basic argument - they were offering a different definition of the word "in" than we were, and depending on whose definition you took would determine how the round went. And every damn time it went their way. After each tournament we would prepare new arguments to counter them, they definitely caused us to raise our game to another level, but damn if that kid didn't know how to define the word "in."
Memory #3: Back in my day there was a rule that you could request a copy of your opponenets case to allow you the opportunity to double-check evidence they had presented. The opponents had to oblige, and had to provide you with a copy of the case identical to the copy they read. We used to joke that we would memorize our case and print it in symbol font to screw over any teams that asked. Nowadays kids just hand their case to the other team as they finish reading each page. Or the opponents will reach up if you've set a page on the table and take it if it has something they want. But that wasn't the rule back in the day. You had to ask. And once my teammate and I did ask. There was a piece of evidence in the case that was completely specious and by looking at it we were able to obliterate our opponents arguments. But the judge gave the round to the other team, comenting that debate is an ORAL activity and it was completely inappropriate for us to ask for a copy of their case. Any loss hurt, but if we had won that round, OR scored 4 more speaker points (out of a possible 60 points combined) we would have broken into the octofinals and continued on in the tournament. We followed the rules, but the judge didn't like it and therefore we lost.
What do these memories have to do with anything? Well, this is what remains of my high school debate experience. Yeah, it was nice that we won at the one tournament, yeah, we did OK at some other tournaments, but these are what linger. These are the stories I can share with people when we're reminiscing about the past. These are when I started to learn that life isn't always fair, that you have to take the chips as they lie, and that sometimes it can come down to something as stupid as the definition of the word "in."
As I was entering the debate room tonight I was thinking I owed the students an apology for being forced into a situation with a clearly inept judge. But now I think they should thank me, because even if they don't make it to the national tournament, I'm giving them good fodder for stories for years to come. And maybe, just maybe, in 2022 one of them will find themselves judging a debate tournament and the event will have turned into something completely different, and then they'll finally know what it's like to walk a mile in Swankette's shoes.
But that is not what compels me to write this evening. My fond memories of speech team combined with my fondness for Sweetie (and wanting to see him occasionally, which is near impossible during debate season) I often offer up my services as a judge at high school debate meets. Tonight was the start of the tournament which will allow students to qualify for the national tournament.
Back in the stone ages of my high school days I spent a year doing Cross-ex debate. Had moderate success, but moved onto other events after one year because I didn't like how I was going to be partnered up if I choose to continue. Because Sweetie doesn't offer Cross-ex at his school I have never been asked to judge cross-ex, which is no skin off my back because due to the evolution of the event it didn't seem much fun to judge anyhow. Nowadays it's all about how fast you can talk and finding the "killer card" or piece of evidence so amazing it blows the other team out of the water. There was some of that going on back in my day, but we also took a little bit of time to actually DEBATE, which seems nonexistent nowadays.
But tonight they were desperate. There are a series of rules involved in the national qualifying tournament to insure that teams get "clean" judges - you can't judge a team from your own school, you often can't judge a team you've judged earlier that day, and as the competition winnows itself down they have three judges in each round to guarantee that you get your fair shake. You see where this is going, don't you? They were so desperate for judges, and Sweetie mentioned that I had once participated in the event, so they sucked me into judging a round. It was a triple-judged round, so my vote was not enough for you to win - worst case it was a tiebreaker if the other two judges disagreed.
And so I judged. The other two judges had laptops that probably had special debate note-taking software installed on it. I had a yellow legal pad and two pens. Although the students were frequently talking so fast I couldn't take any notes because hell if I knew what they were saying anyway. But the further we got into the round the more I felt justified in being there. This was my way of passing on the memories from my high school debating career on to some other high school kid. Because despite what these kids may think now, in 2022 it will be more about the memories then whether or not they won this specific round.
All the rounds of debate I did that one year in high school have been distilled down to three distinct memories that stay with me to this day:
Memory #1: The first major tournament we attended my partner and I actually made it to finals. We were running a horrible case, but because it was novice division the other teams weren't able to adequately debate how horrible our case was and we were actually able to win rounds. Except we knew the case was horrible - at a previous, lesser, tournament a power house judge (who, incidentally, was a graduate of our high school) spoke to us after the other team left the room and said, "That's a horrible case. I've told your Senior team what a horrible case that is. The other team you were debating was more horrible than that case, so you won the round, but if I ever hear that case again you will lose the round." Going into finals the risk was too great, we couldn't run the crappy case, so we had to learn a new case. In an hour. Five of us spent an hour locked in a music practice room at the college we were at, with the senior members of the team drilling the case into my partner's and my heads. There were Funyuns involved. My partner was absorbing it better than I was, so it was deemed that I would read the first speech and he would give the response speech. We walked into finals, and said judge was there. Thank GOD we didn't have to run the crappy case! The other team was prepared for the crappy case, so when we started talking about Cuba instead of about education they were floored. After I read the first speech the cross-examination took place. I was asked a question that, as a debater in finals at a major tournament I was required to know the answer to. But I didn't. I responded, "My partner will cover that in his speech." And yet, despite my not having a clue, we won the round. I still have a copy of the ballot that said judge completed. We were competing against a team whose mascot was the Pirates, and there is a drawing of a pirate ship being blown out of the water.
Memory #2: We came across a team from Roseburg High School at several different meets. Every time we faced them we were always on the affirmative and they were on the negative (dumb luck). And every time we faced them it came down to the same basic argument - they were offering a different definition of the word "in" than we were, and depending on whose definition you took would determine how the round went. And every damn time it went their way. After each tournament we would prepare new arguments to counter them, they definitely caused us to raise our game to another level, but damn if that kid didn't know how to define the word "in."
Memory #3: Back in my day there was a rule that you could request a copy of your opponenets case to allow you the opportunity to double-check evidence they had presented. The opponents had to oblige, and had to provide you with a copy of the case identical to the copy they read. We used to joke that we would memorize our case and print it in symbol font to screw over any teams that asked. Nowadays kids just hand their case to the other team as they finish reading each page. Or the opponents will reach up if you've set a page on the table and take it if it has something they want. But that wasn't the rule back in the day. You had to ask. And once my teammate and I did ask. There was a piece of evidence in the case that was completely specious and by looking at it we were able to obliterate our opponents arguments. But the judge gave the round to the other team, comenting that debate is an ORAL activity and it was completely inappropriate for us to ask for a copy of their case. Any loss hurt, but if we had won that round, OR scored 4 more speaker points (out of a possible 60 points combined) we would have broken into the octofinals and continued on in the tournament. We followed the rules, but the judge didn't like it and therefore we lost.
What do these memories have to do with anything? Well, this is what remains of my high school debate experience. Yeah, it was nice that we won at the one tournament, yeah, we did OK at some other tournaments, but these are what linger. These are the stories I can share with people when we're reminiscing about the past. These are when I started to learn that life isn't always fair, that you have to take the chips as they lie, and that sometimes it can come down to something as stupid as the definition of the word "in."
As I was entering the debate room tonight I was thinking I owed the students an apology for being forced into a situation with a clearly inept judge. But now I think they should thank me, because even if they don't make it to the national tournament, I'm giving them good fodder for stories for years to come. And maybe, just maybe, in 2022 one of them will find themselves judging a debate tournament and the event will have turned into something completely different, and then they'll finally know what it's like to walk a mile in Swankette's shoes.
posted by Swankette at 11:21 PM
2 Comments:
You did CX, even for a year? Whoa. I bow to your mad skillz. I never had a prayer of making it in CX or LD. (And as I recall, our coach decided not to put effort into CX because he didn't like the same "throw it all out there as fast as possible" technique. you mention.)
Yep, I did CX for a year, and by the end of it I was even able to kind of "spread" (which, at least at the time, was debate-speak for talk as fast as you can).
I contemplated LD my senior year, but would have been sacrificing myself to the lambs, and what would have been my debut tournament got snowed out so I gave up before I began.
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