Pen Drills

"Alright, it's time for everyone's favorite opening debate activity!"

A collective groan rose from the crowd collectively. Begrudgingly, we reached into our debate bags and pulled out the first pen our begrudging fingers could find while the evil alumni coaches grinned evilly. "Alright, 'Toy Boat' as fast as you can. You got thirty seconds. Pens in your mouths. Ready? GO!"

I remember my first experience with pen drills. I thought it was hilarious and yet so awkward. What kind of a person recites tongue twisters while holding a writing utensil between his teeth? A debater, that's who.

A couple of years later, at my club's summer debate camp, my next encounter rolled along. Someone mentioned it was time for "pen drills," and I vaguely remembered that name, assuming it was a sort of flowing practice exercise. I was way off. The memories came flooding back as I positioned the pen inside my mouth, trying desperately to communicate something about a chick who had shells for sale at the beach. Or something.

So no, pen drills do not help you with flowing. In fact, they make it harder. Their purpose is E-Nun-Ci-A-Tion. I always feel it necessary to carefully dictate that word. You're welcome. I'm not convinced that pen drills are particularly helpful or if our alumni just like to see us look ridiculous, but I guess when I have to run a case investing in Russian Soldier Shoulder Holsters, all that practice will finally come in handy. Though I probably shouldn't have a pen in my mouth during the 1AC at a tournament. That would be bad. I told my debate partner he's not allowed to do that either. He would though. Except he's the 2A.

It's odd, but I guess a really prepared debater in a similar (toy) boat as myself (probably one heading to Unique New York) would choose a pen to bring to debate not based on its color or level of ink content, but rather taste and texture. The gel pens I have are awful. I try not to use those. They have a weird grip that is just not an appealing taste. I go for the thinner, cheaper ones. I advise you do the same. You gotta be comfortable while ranting against all those spider smiters.

So even though pen drills may be irksome to debaters now, I'm sure you'll thank your coach when you happen to holding a pen in your mouth and someone asks how your mom is and you reply through clenched teeth, "She had shoulder surgery."

Because we all know that's going to happen.

YOU. ARE. HOME-SCHOOOOLED AND. YOU. CAN. SPEEEAK. CLEEEAAARRR-LYYY.

Awesome Tournament Names

I like fun names. I even gave this here blog a ridiculously long name because I thought it would be fun. I like to come up with fun names for posts because it's fun. Though I guess that goes without saying. But anyway. I very much appreciate when the tournament people go the extra mile and come up with an awesome name for their competition. I feel it enriches the whole registering and competing experience. Especially if they have the name on the nametags, medals, and trophies.

Did you know they have a tournament called the "Fun Tournament?" I don't even know where it is or what league it's in, but I really want to go for the name alone. Or what about the Penguin Parade tournament? You can't go wrong with penguins or parades. Both in one place? Ridiculously amazing. Between speechranks results and the Stoa calendar, I find ways to highly entertain myself with the names of various competitions.

Though they may not be quite as unique, the tournaments I go to have cool names too. Like, Concordia Challege, which sounds... challenging. Or San Diego Classic, which makes me think of classic things, like old red cars and record players. I don't know why, but it's true. And then there's IBC/ICC/Riverside/Highlands/Inland/probably a ton of other names. None of the names are particularly interesting, but I've always been fascinated that it managed to acquire so many.

It must be fun to name competitions. If I had to name a tournament, I would call it the Classic Challenge of Fun Parade. Or maybe the Competition Held At Near Distances Largely Encompassing Rome. I really like the acronym on that one. 

What about you? What is your favorite competition name? What would you name your competition?

You're homeschooled. That's fun.

Not Watching Extemp

At a recent Round Robin, my sister said the strangest thing to me. I was very much taken aback. I believe her exact words were, "I want to go want extemp." I told her, quite honestly, that I had never heard someone say that before in my life. Startled and extremely intrigued, I followed her to postings and then to the extemp prep room so we could wait outside until someone walked out and then follow them. We did just that. As I was kneeling awkwardly on the floor of a very small room listening to a real live extemper speak about some event which is current, I thought about how never in my life had I gone to watch extemporaneous, or even accidentally seen someone practice at club. In fact, I didn't even know extemp existed before my first tournament. Now here I was watching one. Much to my surprise, I liked it. So I watched another one. It wasn't boring either. Weird.

People don't typically watch extemp. Maybe if you do extemp, you'll watch so you can get better, but that's pretty much the only reason. I mean, look at me, it took me nearly three years to get around to it. For whatever reason, it seems like most people would rather watch Humorous Interps, duos, and novice impromptu prelim rounds than watch extemp. There are multiple reasons why I suspect this is the case:

1. Extempers make everybody else look bad.
Now I consider myself a reasonably caught-up person, but man. I've heard tell of speeches given on entire countries that I've never heard of. What is that about? Extemp makes me feel like I live in a cave. Under a rock. In the Dark Ages. With a dinosaur. Who doesn't know anything either.

2. Extemp is not that funny.
Fact: People like funny things. Other fact: Current events are not that funny. It's usually that sad stories that make it into the news, and even though extemp is not necessarily sad, it's almost guaranteed not to be funny. Sometimes it is, but still. Why risk it? We all watch HIs and duos which actually are very funny lots of the time.

3. You don't get to watch the prep time.
The best part of watching someone give an impromptu is watching his face during prep time. You can see the wheels of his head turning. For two minutes, he's concentrated. Fully focused. Nothing is going to distract him. Then the timer beeps, he lifts his head up and soon begins to speak. He tells of something marvelous in an impromptu speech that he came up with before your very eyes. Yes, while you were watching creepily, he was creating a masterpiece. They do not let you watch extempers scramble madly through giant boxes and write in itty-bitty handwriting on little cards. It's a bummer.


I'm not saying it's a good thing that no one wants to watch extemp. I'm just saying, it's what happens. Now you know why.


What about you? Do you avoid extemp at all costs, or are you brave and watch it all the time and think I'm crazy?


You're homeschooled. Let's go watch more duos.

Exciting Research

At a recent debate meeting, I was put in charge of a mini-research pod and appointed the task of assigning assignments and orchestrating the orchestration of a negative brief which we would be writing. Now, I know what you're thinking: First off, you're probably wondering, "Why were you put in charge?" That's a good question.

Secondly, you're probably thinking, "That doesn't sound very exciting!" A worthy objection. But it is exciting! I started on the assignment I assigned to myself and I was pretty excited. If minds could literally buzz, mine would still be buzzing with Disads, contents of the countless articles I have open on my computer, rejected Counter Plans, Topicality arguments and so. much. more. It's really fun.

Every once in a while, a debater gets excited while researching something. The homework doesn't seem a chore any more, because now you think you've got something good. You can't wait to see what it is or how it will turn out. You can't wait to piece all your findings together in some kind of glorious puzzle of ink and paper that will someday, in some round, prove invaluable. You can't want to tell your friends, your coach, your mom about it, so you do. Yes, every once in a while, a debater remembers why he or she likes debate. And that's really super exciting.

When do you realize you've found a find that's exciting? I'm not sure. It could be as soon as you Ctrl+F an article to find the exact words you're looking for, only to have your eyes find the exact argument you're looking for right around that highlighted portion of your screen. It could be when you're trying to construct a Disadvantage, and your ideas click together perfectly in a Uniqueness, Link, Brink, Impact format. It could be when you're thinking out loud with your mom and she sheds a lot of clarity of the last hour's worth of research so that suddenly it all seems really clear. It could be, but it's hard to say. Whatever the case, the fun part comes from the excitement of exciting research that makes you so... excited.

You're homeschooled. It doesn't get much better than this.

That Other Club

My loyalties lie fully with my club, Veritas. There is no question about that. I love those guys and I would never leave. BUT. At tournaments, I spend time with other clubs. That's ok. Everybody does this. Well, throughout the entire first year of my speech career, I was kind of a Veritas-introvert who knew only one person outside of her own club, but now I do this. Competitions are some of the only times I get to see these people. One trend I've noticed among many CHSADK's is that they tend to attach themselves to another club, generally one in specific, that sort of adopts them for the tournament, not because they don't have a club, but because they like those other people too. That other club that is almost their's could be referred to as, "That Other Club."

Other clubs are fun. I have a suspicion as to which club is my other club at tournaments. If you're reading this, and you think it's your club, let's just say it is. Anyway, there are lots of reasons why it's fun to have people to adopt you. For one thing, like I said, you don't get to see them a ton probably. So when you do, you have to go crazy and give awkward hugs left and right. Additionally, other clubs just mean more people to scream and cheer and forensic clap for you and give high-fives at breaks. And you can do the same for them. You can play Egyptian Rat Slap or Mafia with your other club. You can ask them what speeches they're doing, and then go watch them. You can debate them and be not-nervous and have a great time. You can do all kinds of fun things with fun people in fun clubs!

The interesting part about having an other club is that the coach of that club probably doesn't even know you're an unofficial team member. Other clubs tend to be just between the kids. That's ok. It can be kind of sneaky. Otherwise someone might think you're disloyal to your club and things could just get awkward from there.

You're homeschooled. You can be on my team.

Coordinating Suits

In speech and debate, something about girl-girl teams, whether in duos or Policy debate, makes the partners want to have matching suits. Sometimes they just go with matching colors, sometimes the suits are identical. Why? I have no idea. I've never partnered with a girl. I'm sure it's really super fun to have the same suit as your partner, I've just never done it. Guy-guy teams don't do this, though. As far as I know. Maybe they have ties the same color, but they probably don't wear the same suits. That shouldn't come as much of a shock.

But it's not only girl-girl teams that match. Last year, my duo partner, who is a guy, and I would often coordinate colors, which was pretty easy since all of my suits were red and black. It didn't actually require much coordination. This year, I'm doing a duo and debating with two different guys who are both about 14 years old. I figured they would have no interest in matching colors, so I didn't even bring it up. They proved me wrong. My duo partner, apparently, has access to a virtually infinite amount of his brothers' and dad's ties, so he can always coordinate with me. My debate partner also asked if we would match at a recent tournament. At first I thought, really? that even occurred to you? And then I was like, ok. We both wore black, but then so did everyone else, so it wasn't really that exciting or special. Still, it's good that I have cool people as partners.

Coordinating suit colors is just fun. It's not necessary for success, but you never know, it might help. Or if not, well, you can have a good time with it and look snazzy anyway. Like those guy-girl teams that both wear pink, That's kind of cool, and sometimes those teams win tournaments. Just saying. Have you ever matched your partner before? If not, you should try it, if you have a partner. If anything, the judge might leave an extra smiley face next to the Appearance box on the ballot. Hey, maybe that box is good for something.

You're homeschooled, and very stylish.