Ranking Speech Categories According to Coolness- Ian Caffarel

(This guest post is from Ian Caffarel who's been competing in speech and debate for two years. He says it's very cool and is a huge part of his life, and he also enjoys classic rock. Enjoy! Want to write a guest post? Click here.)

So I’ve competed for two years in Speech (I started debate officially last year, before that, I did some Parli classes [knock knock]). I’ve done five of the 11-12 events Stoa has to offer (DI, Expos, Extemp, Impromptu, and OI), however, I didn’t really excel in them. Yet, I sort of felt that all 12 events being offered had some cool factor about them, and, after giving it some thought,  I now came up with this list, with each category getting it’s place for a reason or two explained, and see if you notice a trend.

So now, here we go:

12: Storytelling. Sort of cool, but it sort of bridges between limited prep and interp, so it is hard to decide which it fits into.

11: Persuasive. Due respect, it’s good in persuading. It’s in it’s place because there are some cool speakers, however, they are on the dark side in debate (LD, due respect to them.)

10: Original Oratory. For most of the reasons as Persuasive.

9: Dramatic. This is the first one listed that I did last year. It’s run by cool people, however, due to the difficulty of finding a piece (or coming up with one yourself) that will warrant the use of the tissues carried on the audience, it gets ranked relatively low.

8: Humorous. Cool? Maybe, as people usually gather by the crowds to watch them. However, it gets its ranking due to the difficulty finding a funny piece.

7: Mars Hill. It is cool reaching out to the nonbelievers around us, so it would deserve a higher place, but it won’t breach the top 6 due to the fact it is now being substituted for Impromptu D:

6: Duo. Great, as they are usually cool and people flock to watch them. Need I say more?

5: Open. Cooler, as they are usually great, a ton of my cool friends do them and, as if that didn’t already make it cool enough, you can write/adapt your own! Can that get better?

4: Expository. Smaller, but still run by awesome people, and I gave it runs last year and the year before that. I plan on doing better, and possibly anyone else great that will do one next year.

Now, here are the top 25%, and tell me if you notice a trend.

3: Apologetics. The defenders of the faith. These speakers have a very important job to do, so that drives the category to this high a spot in the rankings.

2: Impromptu. Cooler, as you don’t know what topics you’ll get until you set foot into the room and see them. And then you get to talk about anything you can think of that relates to the topic (for me, I usually have this rule of thumb: When in doubt, use the war, as in WWII.) Sure, the category is dead, but that won’t knock it out of it’s spot, just below the coolest speech category ever offered:

1: Extemp. Talks a lot about the news. Sure, it involves a ton of hard work, but who cares?  Because there is a HUGE cool factor that comes with it. And at the final prelim tournament last year, I used a song that I heard on YouTube as an intro. There is nothing like Extemp. Once an Extemper, always an Extemper.

So there you go, the different speech categories according to their coolness.

You’re homeschooled, and that’s cool.

Getting Registered- Jared Curry

(Introductions: Everyone, Jared Curry. Jared Curry, Everyone. Jared considers himself a nerd, thinks ADD is cool, hopes to be an author someday, has been homeschooled for a long time, and is in his second year of competition in Stoa. He wrote this post after missing registration for a tournament. Take it away, Jared! Want to write a guest post? Click here.)

As the great ship sailed across the rough and wild seas, a young man by the name of Jared Curry sat on the main deck talking to his friends. He glanced over at his friend and Duo partner, Elijah Adams, as he leaned over the edge of railing. He wasn't sure why, but he suddenly had the feeling that something bad was about to happen. He started walking over toward his friend, and as the boat went over a particularly large swell in the sea, Elijah fell over the railing! Jared started running. He grabbed a large flotation device with the words, “Registration Reminder” printed on the side, and threw it to his friend, who was trying to stay afloat in the enormous waves. His friend reached for it once, and missed, but the second time he reached for it he grabbed it and held tight. Jared pulled his friend back aboard the ship and gave him a towel. The S.S. Paradigm had been crossing the Sea of Registration on its way to the San Diego Epilogue. Jared knew the perils of the journey, but not everyone understood what it was like to be stranded. Suddenly, Jared heard another splash. He ran to the edge, hoping to get a Registration Reminder out in time, but it was too late. Many islands dotted the Sea of Registration, and there were friendly dolphins in the area, so whoever it was that had fallen overboard would surely survive, and would be picked up on the return ship. But still, Jared couldn't help but think about how that poor soul would not reach his destination. He would be totally isolated until the ship returned. Jared looked at his friends who had stayed safely in the center of the deck. Surely, if they knew how many fell overboard each trip, they would help. But how could they? They had never experienced the loneliness of being stranded, lost in the process of registration.

A few nights later, Jared lay awake in his room aboard the S.S. Paradigm. They had crossed the Sea of Registration, and from this point it was smooth sailing. But still, he couldn't sleep. How many had fallen overboard on this journey? Yes, his Duo partner had been saved, but others would never make it to the San Diego Epilogue 2013. Finally, he gave up trying to sleep. He opened his suitcase and pulled out an old, worn journal. It had only been a few months, but the memory was so fresh in his mind, and he had read the journal so many times that it appeared to be older than it actually was. As he always did when he took out this journal, Jared opened it to the first page, which he had left blank. He looked at the blank page, and he thought back to what had happened on the first day.

It was early in the year, and Tournament Season had just started. There had been a general announcement earlier telling everyone to stay away from the railing and to remember to register, but our foolish young hero thought that it was all a formality. Nearing the edge, he peered over the side to look at the waves below. Before he knew what had happened, he was falling down into the water below.

Back in his room aboard the S.S. Paradigm, Jared turned the page. He stared at the second page, which had also been left blank. He looked at this page, and thought back to the horrors that had awaited him the second day.

With the aid of some dolphins, Jared managed to keep afloat for a whole day, unable to see land. Finally, he came to rest on the small, once heavily populated, but now deserted island of Facebook. Looking around, Jared found a large city, but it seemed to be abandoned. He was haunted by the silence in this place. He managed to find food, an empty journal, and a pen. He took these with them as he searched for a place to spend the night.

On the S.S. Paradigm, Jared focused on the third page, which bears the title, ICC, Day 2. The first day on Facebook had been bad enough, but the second day had been almost unbearable. Such silence... Not the silence of peace, but of being alonce. He closed his eyes for a second and took a breath. Then, after a few seconds, he opened his eyes again and began to read.

ICC, Day 2.

I am stranded on a deserted island with no way of contacting the Paradigm. I knew people from other ships headed toward ICC. S.S. CONTROL, S.S. Set Apart, S.S. Veritas, and many other ships, but I have no way of contacting any of them. Since I come from Speech&Debate City, the quiet here is almost enough to make me go insane. In the city, people were always talking, laughing, having fun. I moved to Platform Boulevard this year, but Interp Avenue with my old home was just around the corner, and I had many friends there. Limited Prep Place was on the other side of the city, but I would make Impromptu visits down there at least once a week, sometimes more. Storytelling Theater had just gone up on the corner of Interp and Limited, and I had found that it was quite a fun place to go. I'd visited Lincoln-Douglas Lane a few times, and I was considering moving down to the Debate section of town next year, but I wasn't sure. There are so many places in Speech&Debate City that I can't even name them all. But now I'm here on this island, and my friends from the Paradigm are at ICC. I'm not sure I'll ever make it off this island. I can only hope my friends will send out a search party on their way back from ICC. It's so quiet here... I miss the conversations, the "Blip!" of my doorbell when friends would visit me, the letters and comments sent back and forth... I think I saw some smoke on the other side of the island, though. Tomorrow I may hike over there and see if this island isn't totally abandoned. Maybe a few have remained behind for some reason, and if so, there may be hope.

Jared sat in his cabin, remembering the terrible isolation that had been there. He shuddered involuntarily, then looked back at his journal. He hesitated, then turned the page and began reading about the third day of his isolation.

ICC, Day 3.
Early this morning, I found a sign near what appears to be a town hall. It said, “Facebook City,” so I assume that that is the name of this place. Why it was deserted, I don't know, but I imagine it had something to do with the ICC. A little later, I saw some smoke coming from the same place as last night, and decided to hike over there. It was a very step trail, and it took about forty-five minutes. Upon arriving, I discovered some Native Philosophers. I philosophized with them for hours, and then they asked what brought me to their island. I told them about ICC, and the Paradigm. Then I spoke to them of the wonders of Speech&Debate City. I told them of my friends who worked at the Extemp News Station, and I told them of the Apologetics Church. I revealed to them the wonders of the Expos Museum. I explained to them why it wasn't strange at all that we had named our city park, “The Campus.” I told them about details that had seemed small at the time, like the Open house on Interp Avenue. I talked about how I would take long walks around The Campus with my friends, and watch people play Ultimate Frisbee in Frisbee Meadows. That evening, we sang songs around a Choir-Fire. They assigned me to the Bass section, and we sang such songs as Hallelujah Chorus, Cicut Cervus, and Gloria by Vivaldi. After all, it makes sense that Native Philosophers would sing classical music. As the sun started is descent, they told me that I must leave their land. They welcomed visitors during the day, but no stranger could be on their territory after sundown, and I would have to return to Facebook City. So I hiked back. As I returned, the dark silence haunted me. For a few hours, I had had some company, but so quickly it was gone. Even though I was homeschooled, living in Speech&Debate City had taught me to be social. Now, the crowds of people pushing to see postings were elsewhere. If only someone had thrown me a Registration Reminder, I might have made it to ICC, I might have been spared the pain of this isolation.

Jared turned his attention to the fifth page. The fourth day of his isolation.

ICC, Day 4.
Once more I hiked over to Camp Philosophy. Upon arriving, I discovered that they were partaking in a sacred ceremony that they called a Choir Recital. All who were present were required to participate, so once again I sang Bass in their Choir. The ceremony lasted only a couple of hours, and then all strangers were required to leave their land, even though the sun hadn't yet fallen. So I hiked back to Facebook City, where I spent the evening. The solitude was torture. I wanted to run from room to room in Pattern Mazes A and B. I wanted to run up and down stairs in the Competitor's Obstacle Course. I tried to pretend I was at ICC, but I couldn't ignore the fact that I was alone, when I looked around and saw no debaters with their rolly luggage, no Duo teams in their matching suits. And I could do nothing.

Jared turned the page and smiled. One more page had been left blank. This one as a reminder that he had been rescued. He closed his eyes, and remembered that day.

As Jared kept track of the days, he realized that the ICC trip was over. If he was ever to be rescued, it would be today. He walked down to the shore. Then, he sees a ship. The S.S. Set Apart. Then another, behind it. The S.S. Veritas. Soon, the whole Stoa Fleet is there, heading back towards Speech&Debate City. The S.S. CONTROL. The S.S. CHAT. The S.S. SCARLET. And there, the S.S. Paradigm! He found a Status Update Flair and posted it into the air. The Paradigm changed course, and they sent out a rescue party to bring him back aboard. The whole day he celebrated with his friends. The next day, Monday, he was returned to Speech&Debate City. Once again, he could attend meetings and practice speeches.

Aboard the S.S. Paradigm, Jared closed his journal. As all are eventually, he had been rescued. But the rescue couldn't erase the isolation. Now, whenever he crossed the Sea of Registration, he watched those on the railing, hoping to save as many as he could. But he couldn't do it alone. He had reminded his Duo partner, but how many others had fallen overboard? And not just from the Paradigm, but from any ship in the Stoa Fleet. But for now, the Sea of Registration is behind him. Smiling, Jared lay down in his bed, and as he closed his eyes, he thought of the San Diego Epilogue, and all the other tournaments that were still to come.

And as he fell asleep, a single sentence ran through his mind.
You're homeschooled, and you like being registered for tournaments.

Myths about Speech and Debate that Novices Believe- Stephen Roe and Brandon Banda

(Stephen and Brandon are two of my favorite Stoa alumni. They're hilarious. I'm sure you'll agree after reading this post. Want to write a guest post? Click here.)

IEs

#1 The judges laughed hysterically at your HI because they thought it was funny.

#2 Writing your speech the night before the tournament means you won't break.

#3 Memorizing your speech the minute before the round means you won't break. :)

#4 Giving a 15 minute speech means you won’t be ranked first.

#5 Having 3 apologetics cards means you have no chance of getting those questions in a round.

#6 You can't break with a script.

#7 If an interp is by Shakespeare, you automatically move up one rank.

#8 Expos is a great extra event to add the week before the tournament.

#9 Expos boards can't be made the night before the tournament.

#10 You have to give a speech word-for-word... Or else!

#11 In impromptu, it doesn't matter what you say as long as you talk for five minutes.

#12 If you are first in room, you have to show up right away.

#13 A judge has never given a speech on abortion lower than second place.

#14 Giving a good apologetics speech involves using as many scripture references as possible.

#15 During an impromptu speech, you should stuff the prompt in your pocket. You’ll remember it at the end of the speech.

#16 You should only say “I have three points” at the beginning of an impromptu if you actually have three points ready.

#17 If you are last in a room you don’t need to show up for a while.

#18 If an HI isn't very funny, or a DI isn't very dramatic, you should just move it to OI.

#19 Impromptu is a speech event where you try to come up with three related stories in two minutes.

#20 Extemp makes a perfect fifth speech event.

#21 Speech outlines are for noobs.

#22 Fifth & below is probably just a fifth.

Debate

#23 The judge will vote for you if you tell them you’re a novice at the beginning of the 1AR.

#24 Advanced debaters never lose to novices.

#25 Novices never beat advanced debaters in outrounds by a 3-0 decision.

#26 Good debaters spend hours rehearsing the delivery of their 1AC.

#27 Most debaters have active social lives completely unrelated to debate.

#28 The more debater terminology you use in a round, the smarter you sound!

#29 LD is just about speaker points. You don't need to prepare.

#30 The bigger the evidence box, the more intimidating you look.

#31 Debaters in the other league/state/region are pretty weird.

#32 Flowing is what judges do best.

#33 In TP, most judges expect you to run topicality.

#34 American flag pins subtly express the undying patriotism of your case.

#35 The "we reserve the right to clarify upon this plan in future speeches" clause means you can pretty much say whatever you want for the rest of the TP round.

#36 When a judge says the round was close, they are just saying that to make the losing team feel better.

#37 When you bring up a counter definition your opponent is doomed to accept it.

General

#38 Wearing a cartoon character tie aids your credibility.

#39 Food and sleep are necessary to survive a five day tournament. 

#40 Tab lounges around until about five minutes before breaks.

#41 The "cute factor" is a myth.

#42 Reading your ballots during the after party is a good idea.

#43 The judges will notice if you accidentally wear slippers or tennis shoes into a round.

#44 The timer is infallible.

#45 If you are last in a room you don’t need to show up for a while. 

#46 Spending 9 hours in the car with your family driving to a tournament will be a bonding experience.

#47 Finding buildings and rooms on a college campus is pretty easy

#48 Dress shoes and running shoes are fairly equal when it comes to walking.

#49 Ballots are the pinnacle of human achievements in penmanship.

#50 Matching suits will make you win in team events.

Becoming a Geeky Debater- Annabelle Tague

(Annabelle Tague is a fifteen year-old junior in highschool, who is rocking speech competitions in her second year and *spoiler alert* loves to debate too. She also loves drawing and her family, and has an amazing heart for Christ. Want to write a guest post? Click here.)

So....we’re all super excited about this year right? Well, I’m here cause I wanted to talk -- honestly and openly -- about the struggles of well, being a first year debater.

It all started before Concordia Debate Camp this summer, while I was frantically trying to complete my assignment (not to mention my brother’s assignment too -- he was out of town and wasn’t coming back till the day before we left). You see my brother is a second year debater, so even though I’m a noob, I got to debate in the Open track....and, you guessed it, do the Open homework -- for both of us! Woohoo. I was totally lost. After calling a debate friend (at 11:00 PM ::cringe::), I got my act together and finished up in time -- barely.

Anyway, that’s how my season started. I was definitely not a debater, and didn’t want to become a debater. FYI, my interpretation of the word “debater,” was based on my experience from last year: those weird people I pass in the hallway on the way to my IE events, talking at 100 MPH about...well whatever revenue generation policy it was they just hit, and the nineteen disadvantages they used to absolutely destroyed the poor AFF team, and it seemed like their sentences just wouldn’t stop because they’d never ever pause to take a breath because they really just needed to....yeah.

Sorry, I didn’t mean to step on anyone’s toes there. That’s just how I saw it all. I was a speecher, not a debater.

But fast forward a few months -- it’s February, and I’ve officially competed in a whopping four debate tournaments.

Huge confession: I loved them. I did. I definitely wasn’t one of those “weird debaters,” but I had fun.

So now I’m in the groove, right? Research....foreign policy...it’s all good. At club this week, I was told to write a general negative brief on cyber-war. Awesome! I started researching, going through the motions -- then there was that one piece of evidence that I really, really wanted. And I found it! Haha! I chucked an evil chuckle, looked at my sister and said, “Ha! I just found the perfect piece of solvency evidence for me general neg on cyber-warfare.” 

Then it hit me. Oh. No. I was a debater. I’d finally become one of those people I used to pass in the hallways. I had just completely violated Annabelle 3:16, “For Annabelle so loved speech, that she dare not become a geeky debater.”

I immediately consulted an experienced debater-friend, who replied, confirming my diagnosis. I am not longer a normal person. I am a nerdy, debate researcher.

How did it come to this? Is this how it happened to all the STOA debate legends? Probably. Oh well. But it’s fine, cause as much as I hate to admit it, it’s totally awesome.

You’re homeschool, and you know what I mean.

How to Avoid the Timer Lady- Abby Davis

(Abby is a senior who's been homeschool for forever. She's also the first guest poster from NCFCA, which is pretty spiffy. She's pretty great, and you can stalk her further on her blog. Want to write a guest post? Click here.) 

Tournaments. Lovely, lovely tournaments. The place where we get to go live out our nerdiness with equally nerdy people. Where it's totally cool to talk to yourself (or even better, the wall). Where it's the norm to drink mega loads of caffeine while sitting around discussing due process or personal freedom (for fun!). As we all know, however, every silver lining has a cloud. Or something like that. Even tournaments, which have been proven to significantly increase happiness, can't be ALL fun and games. 

And that, my dear friends, is why God created the timer lady. 

Now don't get me wrong! I absolutely love every timer lady I've ever encountered (all two of them). They have a special skill of being patient but persistent, and somehow combine the necessary traits of Mother Teresa and Hitler to convince kids to go support their fellow competitors through timing. 

But for exhausted, brain-fried competitors, the last thing they want to consider along with giving their own speeches or fighting through their own debates is having to time someone else's. And when the lovely timer lady is making her rounds to grab those unoccupied kids, there just seems to be no way to escape.

That, readers, is why I'm here to help. Believe it or not, there are several simple yet foolproof strategies for those moments when you're just worn out and can't expend any more energy, mentally or physically (hey, raising your hand like that so much can get exhausting!). Of course, being the model student I am, I maybe probably sort of never ish would try these things. I've just heard they work. ;)

So here they are. Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you: three tips for successfully avoiding the timer lady.

1) The Bathroom Ninja 

This one is pretty basic. When it gets close to time for the next round (that you're not in) and you see the timer lady get up from her table with a binder in her hands, calmly but swiftly make your way to the bathroom. If you're a girl, take the opportunity to fix your makeup and straighten out all your clothes as if you were giving a speech or debating in this round. For guys...well, do whatever y'all do in the bathroom. Subtle slowness is the key here. NOTE: it is vital when you're leaving the room to head to the restroom that your path out the door doesn't coincide with the timer lady's route among the tables in the student center. This is all about strategy! Plan accordingly.

2) Go With The Flow

No, I'm not talking about debate here. Although, if your method of escaping the timer lady is going into a debate round and flowing the entire thing, I commend you. In this case, however, I'm talking about the mass exodus that occurs every time a round begins. Postings go up, and a flood of kids goes to read them and walk to their rounds. It's just part of the circle of life within tournaments. But for the poor ones who have nothing to do, nowhere to be during this long round, it's almost inevitable that you'll stick out like a sore thumb after everyone else leaves. Whatever do you do about this?! It's quite simple: just leave with the rest of the crowd! Go hang out in the halls or in a room until you're positive the rounds have started and you're safe, then just make your way back to the student center. It's foolproof. NOTE: This technique is especially helpful if you've already tried #1 and the timer lady is still on the hunt. Yes, I know the whole reason you're avoiding her is because you're tired and don't want to have to exert yourself any more. But at this point, you either have to spend a little energy going to and from the halls where the round is being held, or spend an entire round's worth of energy timing. It's your call.

3) Playing Possum

For the ones who are simply too exhausted to consider any kind of escape plans which require physical activity, this one's for y'all (don't judge; I'm from the south). All it requires is a pair of earbuds or headphones. An MP3 player of some sort is optional, but does increase the pleasantness of this method. Find yourself a nice, comfy corner somewhere, plug them in, close your eyes, and you're good to go...absolutely nowhere. Because the timer lady is obviously much too nice to bother you while you're sleeping (wink wink). NOTE: If you don't have your ear devices actually plugged into anything, try to stick the cord into a pocket somewhere. Otherwise you might just look really stupid.

May your tournaments be filled with peace, joy, and minimized timing.

P.S. - While this is a satire blog and thus none of what I say should be taken seriously, I felt I should put out a message to those who might be worried that I'm a horrible person who never times and wants to discourage others from timing. I've done my fair share of timing at various tournaments and believe everyone should. These tips are intended only for those who are at that point of exhaustion where timing would hinder them from performing well in their next rounds. What you do with this information is in your hands. ;) 

Getting the Judge You Want- Katarina Amerding

(I can so relate, and I'm sure you can too. Enjoy the latest guest post from Katarina! Want to write a guest post? Click here.)

We all know we love speech tournaments, speech tournaments mean ballots
and ballots mean killing the battery in the car on the way home reading them, which
mean exclamations of “So and So judged me!” followed quickly by, “OOhh, what did
he/she say?”

Now, for any of who do not debate, a debate ballot looks like this:

No pluses, checks or minuses here! Just good ol’ hard numbers to tell you
what you did well and what you need to (REALLY) work on. Trust me, it used to
look more intimidating than this. I was told back in the stone age it was a scale of
eight dots. Who uses dots nowadays? Ahem…I digress, under the Affirmative and
Negative bar will be an empty space (cue spacey music) to fill out an RFD which you
I.E people are already familiar with. The focus here is the judge!
We all know there are several types of judges.

Debate Moms- You try to smile while you kill your opponent in front of them.
They want you to be nice and usually write very constructive comments.

Debate Dads- Prefer a little more aggression. They want to know why
military occupation of Slovenia matters or why they should worry about angry birds
harvesting their data, IMPACT people IMPACT!

Alumni- these unique individuals toe the line between college debate
superiority and aching nostalgia. Expect to see constructive feedback, lectures or
simple one sentence RFDs for technical reasons on your ballot.

Community Judges- These wonderful people are thrown into our world,
where we try to teach and crush our opponent at the same time. Expect comments
lauding homeschool awesomeness or votes toward clarity people clarity!

But, really, we all love the judge who is rumored to be retired district
attorney for that debate club that wins everything. Or that-dad-who-writes-the-
most-epic-ballots! Or that-mom-of –of-the-best-debater-in-the-league. You can
arrive in a room checking out your opponent and then….you see him (or her) and
say “YESSS! So-and-so is my judge! (in your head of course). This is gonna be a great
round! You know they will write constructive comments, make you a better debater,
and plus, you can learn from what they wrote to your opponent. You do not even
have to worry about the round, you are simply embodied by the promise of a good
ballot on the way. Ballots like those are so helpful, you frame them, say thank you as
you read them, and say proudly to your parent or coach “So-and- so said this about
my 1AR, or he/she really liked it when I brought up F-16 Fighter Jets.” Comments
like these are the best, they tell you what you can work on, nothing like an unhelpful
ballot (cue sad doggy).

Yes, we love getting the judge we want because it means “EPIC BALLOT ON
THE WAY!” So go ahead and kill the car battery for those (or not).

You’re homeschooled, you got the judge you wanted…kachow.

Tabulous Tab- Michael Sheetz

(Michael is back, which shouldn't really surprise you because he just won't stop writing awesome Guest Posts. If this doesn't make you laugh, then you probably didn't read it. Happy Guest Post week!)


I'll just come out and admit it: As a novice in TP three years ago, I didn't know tab existed. And then when I found out it did exist, I thought it was some sort of horrible monarchy of the royal families of Stoa who all apparently hated me (especially in speech). And then when I found out that Mr. Kuhlmann is actually tab, I realized everything was going to be ok and that tab isn't evil, it's just overworked. (Note: Mr. Kuhlmann actually being tab may or may not be true. But either way, tab is longer evil. Most of the time.)

Now, if you're wondering at this part why I thought, being new to toliet paper and all, that a royal family of large Roman coverings (or, in reality, one man) controlled the amount of alcohol people consumed and hated me because of how I spoke, then you're probably on the wrong blog. Or maybe not. Tabulation (named tab by non-lay-SAD-people) is what gathers, organizes, and spits back out all of the results during and after a speech and debate tournament. And in the case of most tournaments in the SAD league Stoa, tab is run by parents who either:

A) have too much time (Note: This doesn't exist)

B) are really intense, awesome, sacrificial parents

or

C) have an addiction to SAD and working tab

No matter what, tab is one of the most talked about parts about debate at a tournament. How tab is running a tournament (both in the style and on-time-ness) is almost constantly talked about, sometimes even well after awards. But, speaking of awards, one of the most dependable parts of awards is when the tournament director(s) do something to stall for tab who is feverishly trying to figure out results and sort ballots. There's been plenty of tactics, including MC's with bad jokes, praise and worship, photo slideshows (which usually happen anyway), and awarding timers (because those guys are so awesome, they don't need tab). But my personal favorite was when, two years ago, the tournament directors had Stephen Roe and Evan Smith do their individual interps on stage in front of everyone. It gave tab almost a solid half an hour, in which everyone got to enjoy some of the best in the nation entertain everyone (many of who might have wanted to see those speeches, but wouldn't have got to otherwise). So to all you kids who have tournament director parents, I highly recommend you try this.

But I digress. The thing about tab is, no matter how essential to the tournament they may be, they're constantly overlooked. Sure, at most tournaments tab is thanked during the awards ceremony. But what I'm talking about here is how it seems you rarely hear about how awesome tab is for sacrificing so much and working so hard. I've never once heard someone thank a parent during a tournament that is involved in tab. I'm just as bad as everyone else, as I've never done this myself, but I'm definitely going to strive to in this next tournament season. So when you see that parent you know is working tab (aka, Mr. Kuhlmann), give them a passing greeting and compliment! Or maybe a venti quintuple shot espresso. Or, if they're not running too fast to the tab room, a hug! 

You're homeschooled, and Tabman needs to be a superhero.

Lunch- Katherine Kwong

(Katherine's back with another awesome Guest Post, with something we can totally all relate to. Enjoy!)

On the campaign field of Concordia University Irvine, you take a welcome respite from your last fight er… TP round. All fighting (speaking) stops for the one welcome respite: Lunch.  Whether it is a PB & J sandwich thrown together at 5am in the morning or a Trader Joe’s Salad, we can all agree that lunch is paramount, a nice break and a great way to talk to people.

As a debater would say, Lunch is paramount. After debating and speaking since 7 am, the food you talk about in your interp or impromptu (if you happen to use those kinds of examples) is starting to sound really good. You finish your after round chit chat and then prowl around the judges lounge to liberate your lunch from the car. Or you arrive at the club table to see a neat package of food * cue heavenly music ahhhhhh!* Our moms are awesome. They provide the food we need to keep our voice boxes working and our jaws flapping. Lunch is paramount!

As much as we all like speaking and debating, it is nice to have a little break in between rounds. If you don’t feel that way, go starve yourself (just kidding). Grab a Subway footlong, your headphones and some tunes then the club pop-up tent becomes a melodious cabana. Or grab your TP partner or your LD buds and break out the flow sheets and chili! That is why I love speech and debate, even the food makes a tournament a tournament (even when the food is not so good).

Finally, there is nothing like sitting down with your clubmates and friends and saying, “Hey how did your round go? How was your extemp? Man, those impromptu prompts were way out," or even, “I messed up so bad in the duo, but I don’t think the judges noticed,” and intermittently getting, “Mfffm, errrr if waf good! Mhhhmmmmmmm, gasp….choke Hmmmmf hahahaha,” for an answer because you caught your friend with a mouthful of food for the tenth time. Ahhh, lunch: the welcome respite amidst crazy speeching and debating!

You’re homeschooled, enjoy your lunch!

The End of Life as We Know It- Carey Vandewalle

(I'm sure you all remember Carey from her evil ploys of posts past, but in case you didn't recognize her because she looks a little older and wiser, it's because she's old now and is the first ever alumni person to write for SCHADKL! She's also the first author for the first ever SCHSADKL Week or So of Guest Posts! Yay!) 

Hi everyone! Surprise! I know, I know, you must all be a little shocked to hear from me. I mean, I graduated and am no longer eligible to compete in Christian Homeschooled Speech and Debate. OH NO!!! This must mean that I have nothing left to live for and am now dead. Bother.

Haha, just kidding. I am very much alive and well and if you want will give you an enthusiastic hug to prove it. After you have gotten over your shock (the hug probably helps with that, too) pick up your comfort object (I’d assume it’s a flow pen or maybe one of those cool rolling debate cases that I never had) and hold tight because I’m about to blow your mind further. This is my attempt to explain to you why this post really does belong on a blog of Stuff We Like.

Graduation from debate is actually a ton of fun. 

It might be hard to believe that there’s possibly any life worth living that doesn’t include competition as a CHSADK, but really, there are all kinds of awesomeness waiting for you just around the corner. Two years ago, I was devastated to realize that my time competing wouldn’t last forever and begged my parents to allow me to super senior. They refused. Now, the time has come. My name will no longer be heard in breaks (well, my first name at least :D), I’ve walked across the stage and received my final award; I’ve prepped my last impromptu, given my last rebuttal, explained for the last time why personalfreedomoughttobevaluedaboveeconomicsecurity, thanked the timer and shook the judge’s hands for the final time. Yes, the tournament had its nostalgia. I mean, it’s natural to be a little sentimental. This activity literally changed my life, my relationships, and me personally forever and I will be forever grateful. BUT. I’m not here to be sad. You obviously have a lot of prep to do for NITOC tournaments that won’t be happening for several months but it’s always good to get an early start, right? So let’s get straight to the fun stuff: the fantastic parts about graduating. These are things that I’m really, really, really, really, really really excited about for next year. Think that was enough reallys? I don’t!

1.Coaching 

In all humility, alumni have learned a lot. Now, we don’t have our own events to practice every day so there’s nothing to do but bottle up our enthusiasm and energy and save it all to pour it out on you guys every week at club. I can’t wait.

2. Judging

Seriously, I’m pretty sure the first time someone at ballot push (like maybe my mom, who works there a lot and is great at her job) hands me my first, real, grown-up ballot, I’m going to start jumping up and down uncontrollably with joy. Hopefully they won’t take that as a sign that I’m not old enough or anything, because I’m stoked to judge. The way I see it, as a competitor, I could help one person improve their speaking and thinking skills: me. As a judge or coach, every round I’ll get a chance to help sharpen the skills of, at the very least, two fantastic CHSADKs and I plan on judging/coaching lots and lots, so that’s dozens of you wonderful people that I get to help. I already have lots and lots of ideas about how to make judging and ballot writing more fun. You should hope I judge you. Or maybe not. >_> In any case, I’m absolutely thrilled.

3. The Judge’s Lounge

This hardly needs explanation. We’ve all heard of this magical place where cookies grow on bushes and there are little waterfalls of coffee and lemonade, and you can listen to the licorice birds sing while the muffin squirrels give you chocolate kisses as you blissfully write sweet notes and circle all the 5s in speaker points and 1s on IE ballots. I’ve imagined how it must be over and over and I’m sure I’m right. I’m not sure where the 5th and Below ballots get filled out but probably not in there. Anyone with experience can correct me if I’m wrong, but you risk dashing all my wildest dreams, just so you know. You’d turn me into a Disgruntled Alumni. Now that I’m graduated, I may be allowed to enter this paradise. So maybe it is like dying, just a little bit.

4. Not Having to Wear a Suit

Wearing a suit is definitely cool. It’s very classy and looks awfully sharp. But you have to admit, they aren’t the most comfortable of attire. Guy, you may legitimately complain about your ties. A little. They look too fantastic to merit much protest. Girls, I know far better how we have been forced to suffer, with stockings and heels and worst of all, no pockets. After graduation, you no longer have to wear any of that and can arrive in jeans and comfy sweaters. You might have already experienced this after you’re finished competing for the day and you know how good it feels. In addition, I’m the kind of person that makes friends with people who have much longer legs than mine. With the exception of one near and dear person whose legs are actually shorter. It’s a lot easier to run around and have fun with tall people if you don’t have the additional disadvantage of wearing a skirt and heels. 

5. Adventuring at Tournaments

Unfortunately I haven’t done as much of this at tournaments as I would have liked. I always had, you know, debate rounds and stuff that I had to hang around for. As an alumnus, I’ll be able to spend rounds I’m not judging either watching speeches and debates or exploring the campus. Both can be great adventures. If you want me to come watch your speech, let me know. I’d be happy to come. 

There’s nothing to be sad about concerning graduation. SAD is happy. It’s the best thing that ever happened to me. But there’s plenty to be excited for about being an alumnus and I probably just got started. Is there anything you’re looking forward to especially? Maybe hearing all of my younger siblings names called at breaks and awards over and over and not just for timer recognition? :D Or making friends with me so that I save you some of my candy from the magical paradise that is the judge’s lounge? I’m telling you, it pays to make friends with alumni. I know this from experience.

I can’t wait to see you all at tournaments next year!

You’re homeschooled, but not forever.

Debaters and Their Rolly Luggage- Katherine Kwong

(Katherine is super and awesome, and she wrote the latest super awesome Guest Post! Yay!)

When I first joined speech and debate, which was in 2009, our first impression upon arriving at a tournament was, “WOW, look at all the blacks suits!” our second impression was, “What is all this rolly luggage for?” “Oh, those people are debaters,” my dad answered (he is quick to notice those things). 

Technically, I know, “rolly” is not a word. However it adequately describes the black luggage a debater rolls around. Here are several things I have noted about debaters and their rolly luggage. If you are a debater, then take pride that your rolly luggage accomplishes at least one of the following things.

1. It makes a queer noise. 

You know that sound of wheels in hall or on a sidewalk, kinda roll, roll roll shooooooogghghghghghghghghhgghhshooooghghgoo, *click  *clack…..stomp, stomp stomp stomp stomp, *shick  *click , roll, roll roll, roll. That was a debater with rolly luggage walking down a sidewalk, hitting bumpy cobblestone, going down stairs and then walking on another sidewalk (it helps to say the sounds out loud.) If you’re a speaker you know the sound of rolly debater luggage going by your speaking room when you are trying to say your fantastic speech. Not only do the wheels make funny noises but the handle does too. I was in a hallway that was absolutely quiet, when I heard this ominous *schick *click *clack. I was ready to throw my hands in the air and say, “no officer it was not me!” When I looked behind and thought, “Ohhh….it’s just a debater collapsing the handle of her rolly luggage." Rolly luggage makes a queer noise, 'nuff said.

2. It makes you get out of the way.

When you hear the queer noise of the luggage behind you, you are best advised to step aside lest you be crushed under the superior ball bearing wheels and reinforced bottom of some debater’s rolly luggage. Debaters take up the majority of any sidewalk with their luggage, so stay at least a block a head of them. Seriously, debaters should have their own crosswalks. 

3. Rolly luggage gets in the way. 

If you have tripped over a debater’s rolly luggage, they merely pull them close and say, “sawy.” The other much more annoying thing is when postings are up. In the ubiquitous posting mush-pot, you notice a space in one of the best vantage points to see the precious postings. Upon inquiry (and a shove) as to why no one is standing in that prime spot, you realize that, “Oh, a debater’s rolly luggage is in it.” The debater with his luggage is so busy looking for his friend’s posting that apparently he has no idea he is an inconvenience. Simply put, his luggage is in the way (also he does not even have a speech, he looking for his friend’s speech). 

4. Debater’s are protective of their rolly luggage. 

A debater’s rolly luggage is much like his second arm, or leg, or maybe brain (on account of the 15lbs of TP evidence and briefs in it). Debaters are CONSTANTLY seen with their rolly luggage. At postings, at rounds, at coming back from rounds, at lunch! They lean their arms causally on the top handle as if it were a portable armchair. They almost never leave their luggage alone; for fear it will be lost in the 10 dozen other luggage bags that resemble it. When a debater loses (God forbid) his rolly luggage, immediately, 3 club moms will branch out in search parties to reunite their tearful debater with his rolly luggage and precious evidence. Simply put, place a nametag on your luggage.

4. Debater’s rolly luggage is like Mary Poppin’s carpetbag. 

One upside to debater’s rolly luggage is the fact that they can carry SO much. Not only can they fit files packed with evidence and briefs in them, but also they manage to fit, water, post its, pens, lunch, (and for girls) hair care products, another jacket, or whatever it is, you name it!

You’re homeschooled, you own rolly luggage, *click!

The Student Snack Table- Hannah Socolofsky

(Pleaaasssee welcome, one of my good friends who is not only fantastic, but one of this here blog's very first readers: Hannah Socolofskyyyyy!)

The student snack table at tournaments is the light of my existence.  And the bane of my existence, too.  But we won’t go there.  *herm*

If you’re a CHSADK, you’ve probably at least seen, if not taken advantage of, the student snack table.  I mean, come on!  Who doesn’t like a table that has tiny cups of food on it and smiling ladies sitting there behind it???  You’d have to be crazy not to occasionally hang out by The Table.  

There are five types of people at tournaments:  

1.The Glutton

Another name for this person is . . . well, me.  This is the person who takes way too many little cups of Cheez-its and pretzels and red vines . . . simply because they are there.  You’re not necessarily hungry.  You’re not necessarily bored.  You see food.  You nab it.  It’s an instinct.  

2. The Sharer

This is the person who oh-so-very kindly takes only one or two dixie cups of food and gives one to a friend.  This just about makes the day of the person on the receiving end.  Also, the less food you take from The Table, the more there is for others.  See?  Sharing skills.  

3. The Food Snob

This is the person who doesn’t even know that the snack table exists, and even when they do, don’t take advantage of it.  They have a cooler full of yummy snacks they’re familiar with.  There’s a Jamba Juice around the corner.  Who needs infinitesimal cups filled with unhealthy junk food?  

4. The Stalker

This person usually has radar attached to their head.  Whenever the student snack table moves, they freak out until their radar locates it again.  Once The Table is found, their peace of mind is back.  (NOTE:  See # 1) 

I have yet to meet a stalker, but I’m sure there’s one out there.  I mean, I have a momentary heart attack every time I see the snack table gone.  My mind goes into panic survival mode as it gasps for lack of junk food.  Surely I’m not the only one.  Right?  RIGHT??  *sighs* Ratz.  

5. The Sneaker

No, I don’t mean the shoe.  This is a different sneaker.  It’s a sneak-er.  This is the person who always feels slight guilty going to the snack table because they know that their mom would have a heart attack if she knew what they were filling up on.  Because they never get these snacks at home, they gorge on them at tournaments.  Do you do this?  Viola.  You are a Sneaker.   

The student snack table was a brilliant idea.  There is food.  Kids work hard at tournaments.  They need sustenance.  Hence, the student snack table.  The ladies kindly sit there in the hot sun refilling Dixie cups all day simply for the benefit of the students.  How kind is that?  

Next time you see the student snack table, go up and thank the ladies for what they do.  Where would you be without them?  Yes, that’s right.  You would be rummaging in your cooler, eating HEALTHY stuff.  Blecchhkk.  

You’re homeschooled.  Eat yourself into a food coma.  

New-clear Wahr- Michael Sheetz

(Michael is attempting to impede the literary genius that is me by nefariously sending me humorously-written guest posts so that I have no choice but to post his rather than indulge in my own creativity. But he's cool, so it's ok.) 

Most people who are passionate about something they do will have a few key words and phrases that light them up like a Christmas tree. And boy do they know it. For example, if you say "New Material" to a public teacher, they'll groan and rant about how the state administration is crazy. Or "Aluminum-alloy suspension forks" to a mountain biker, they'll start comparing brands and costs. Or "Commute" to someone who lives in Orange County but works in LA, you'll get a face full of complaints about traffic and pollution. (I've always wanted to walk up to a Congressman and say "Debt", but I'd expect they'd just shuffle their feet over to the nearest over-stuffed arm chair, muttering about the last administration). But I digress. 

There are 4 basic reactions in the speech and debate community to the words "n-u-c-l-e-a-r w-a-r", or "It that shall not be named". 

For TP'ers, you get the reaction of "YES! IT THAT SHALL NOT BE NAMED IS THE BEST THING EVER! Those Disadvantages are the best!?!? Have you heard my it that shall not be named counter-plan? If we use it that shall not be named to destroy everyone on the world, then we save billions of lives in the future! It's brilliant!" (fill the next 30 minutes listening to lots of ridiculous numbers and how it that shall not be named can be linked to malaria killing children in Africa)

For LD'ers, you get "That's an incredible desensitizing issue that the TP'ers are always linking to everything. No one can possible value it that shall not be named." (fill the next 30 minutes talking about how much more important to society LD is)

For Speechers (that aren't in interps), you get, "I'd rather just use Hitler as an impromptu example than it that shall not be named, but it that shall not be named is SOOOO MUCH FUN for Extemp. Haven't figured out how to tie into Apologetics yet, but I know I can."

For Speechers (that are in interps), you get this:

Basically, if you ask any speech and debater, you will get a very passionate answer. And you will lose the next 30 minutes of your life. (Unless you actually like hearing about it that shall not be named, in which case we have the Debate Dungeon ready for you)

But if you are SAD person (it's kind of like MAD, but different) like me, then you know just how awesome it that shall not be named is.

You're homeschooled, and how Bush pronounces it that shall not be named always annoys you. 

Obsessing Over What to Wear for Tournaments- Carey Vandewalle

(Carey is attempting to commandeer my blog. This is evident by the numerous guest posts. But her posts are so funny that I have no motivation to foil her devious plot.)

Hey guys.

Guess what.

There’s a tournament tomorrow.

Yea.

I know.

It’s crazy.

I hope you’re ready. I hope you’re excited. I hope I’ll see you there, and I hope I’ll see you onstage at awards.

Onstage at awards?! In front of all Stoa?! Yep! Relax. Because you have your suits all planned out, to look your schnazzy best all four, long days.

It’s very important to take a break from frantically scouring the internet to make sure your case did not go inherent LAST NIGHT, and distractedly printing every brief you can find against Death Tax, and calmly and collectedly putting the finishing touches on your case explaining why personal freedom ought to be valued above economic security. Heh. No bias here.

But that break must be taken to open your closet and consider your options.

Maybe it’s just me. But I suspect that we all spend quite a while pondering the important question: which blouse looks best with which skirt? What shirt color would best set off this tie?

Me: “Mom, does this work?”

Mom: “Hmm, because that shirt is cream-colored, it doesn’t go with the white in the skirt”

(4 outfits later, I think she’s just telling me ‘yes’ so that I stop asking her).

Friend who does debate: “So, I’ve been wanting to experiment with some new shirt/tie color combinations. Do you have any suggestions before my mom takes me shopping?”

Some girls are lucky. They have a guy for their duo or debate partner that they get to advise on what to wear. I am without either. So I leapt at the chance to give my friend all my great ideas I’d be saving without a person to give them too.

Deciding what to wear for the tournament is very important. Maybe this is your first year and your suit is already perfectly pressed, ready for you to rock. Maybe you just have to decide which of your two suits to start the every-other-alternation with. Maybe you’ve been doing this forever and have an entire closet of options. But whatever it is, you have spent a good amount of time pondering how to look your best. If you’re like me, that is.

There are a couple of reasons why it’s important.

First, suits are just plain awesome! One of my favorite parts of tournaments is looking around at everyone looking so pro in their suits. Really. It’s great. And you are awesome, so you deserve to look great, too.

Second, your appearance really does matter. There’s a little box on your ballot for ‘professional appearance’ and here I could tell lots of horror stories of very particular judges with high expectations. It pays to look good, trust me. Judges have been known to vote on which guy’s tie they liked better. I’m pretty sure my partner and I only won a few of our rounds because of his tie. Almost every mom judge we had made some kind of comment like “Wow! You looked great! Wonderful tie/shirt combo with your coloring!” Maybe once every five ballots someone would say “pretty pin!” to me. It was funny. You can laugh. I don’t mind.

You’ve worked so hard on your AI (Awesome Interpretation) and practiced your impromptu so many times. Now it’s time to brush your hair, don your suit, straighten your tie, add a pretty pin, and take on this thing. You’re going to be amazing.

You’re homeschooled. I like your suit/blouse/shoes/tie.