What About Us?
We all know someone who cares far too much about speech and debate. That one teammate, who can’t seem to talk about anything but geopolitics, or the debater who incessantly asks you if you would look over their case? Sometimes I fear that nuisance is me–and I’m not alone. Speech and debate does a powerful thing: it allows thousands of students across the nation to tell their stories, regardless of race, gender, orientation, or most importantly, social standing. Unfortunately, though, while I’ve never had a judge give me a loss for being a loser, speech and debate is still exclusive. What is, in some cases, the only area a student feels safe can also be one of their most toxic environments. You will read and hear students constantly explain what arguments are more moral to run or how we can help damaged communities in our cruel world, yet frequently we overlook the largest sector of speech and debate: ourselves.
We’ve all experienced local circuit beef. Even the kindest people I know admit that they have someone on a rival team that they just can’t stand. Whether it's because they stole a piece, were rude to you at awards, or ran some wacky theory shell that’s inconceivable before round, we all have someone like that. But we rarely ask why. The reason is simple: even though we are competitors long before we ever make our way onto a judging panel, we’ve been adjudicating each other from our very first round. “That question in CX was uncalled for and rudely phrased.” “Even though she won, she didn’t need to celebrate like that!”
Week after week, we make faulty assumptions about others that wouldn’t exist if we’d met them under normal circumstances. Would you be that upset at the debater you hit in the semi-finals if she was your lab partner in chemistry class? Or what about the extemper who always beats you by one mark–would you feel this same kind of envy if he was just another kid walking down your school's halls? The answer is likely no. Yet we still end up feeling this way because speech and debate is inherently adversarial. “If they win, I lose.” These are words every debater embodies, and it’s evident every week.
When people are crying outside of their rounds, they aren’t being “too emotional” or “weak”. This activity can captivate you in a way that is both beautiful and dangerous. Your competitors, just like you, have become enveloped in winning, so much so to the point that it consumes their entire minds. Whether they win or lose, they may not act the way they should. I’ve watched people I considered friends give my case to my opponents before a round over something as trivial as PO’ing the next congress round. We seem to forget our morality the instant we walk into the doors of the tournament's school. And sometimes, I wonder if it was ever there. During my freshman and sophomore years, I sat on the floor of my team's classroom with packed snacks while nearly every other debater on the team went out to lunch together. Even though we’re some of the brightest young adults in the nation, we haven’t moved past excluding the “weird kids” from our activity.
It’s not just me. Every single circuit has that one kid whose 1st place win gets celebrated less than another kid's 6th. We notice that when some debaters have 10+ spectators, a debater from the same team has none. Coaches, students, and judges play favorites all the time–not based on competitor quality, but bias instead. The same activity meant to better the lives of students continues to ostracize and ridicule their every move.
What can we do about it? There’s no way to force students to like each other or to overlook their inherent biases. What we need to do is treat speech tournaments like what they are: speech tournaments. Simply a fun opportunity to express ourselves in a way we normally wouldn’t get the chance to. Losing debates is upsetting, but it certainly is not the end of the world. Someone using a piece you don’t like doesn't make their voice any less valid. We've become entirely enveloped in the adversarial aspects of speech and debate without stopping to consider our fellow competitors. This isn’t just on a personal level, but also seen in the way we critique others in debates. I recently discussed with some teammates regarding feminism kritiks and theory arguments. Their responses shocked me: they called these arguments “dumb” and “irrelevant.” Even though kritiks can be frustrating and hard to debate, we aren’t the debate police. If women feel that this argument is applicable, they should feel empowered to run it.
Still, traditional debaters shut out progressive debaters, despite the credence of their arguments. Every week, I hear someone making fun of someone else because of the answer they gave to an extemp question. Yet that’s the beauty of extemp–it allows you to express political ideas and opinions in an area where you won’t be ridiculed.
We need to make it a priority to ensure that ALL of speech and debate is like this, because tournaments are an avenue to help, not hurt. Next time you're in CX, maybe don’t phrase the question in a manner that destroys someone else's self-esteem. Or ensure that you're engaged with that girl’s piece in your POI round, even if it’s boring. We are incredibly focused when flowing our opponents' case, but can’t even care to be there for them outside of the round. This has to change, so that not just one person, but our whole community can win.