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.

Debating In Your Head

I flow with commentary.
Yea, it's weird.

Back when I first started watching debate, I didn't actually understand the art of flowing, (p.s. still working on that shorthand... kinda) but then it clicked. Like one of those clicky pens, which I then used two of in rounds, like most people. Except for those debaters who use one pen, which is silly and confusing, or the hipsters with pencils. But now, I use three whenever I watch rounds, so I can add my own thoughts in another color. Neat, huh? Typically, Aff is red, Neg is blue, and I'm in black. As I'm scribbling the rough draft of this post on a bright pink Post-It note, I'm watching and commentating on a round which began with a 1AC, as is tradition, but this one desperately screamed to be turned on its head. And, rather than flowing the round all that carefully, I'm writing my own turns in the free space on the flow. It's much more fun.

I'm an in-head debater. I debate in my head. It's a thing.

I always have been, ever since watching my first ever LD round back in the day and silently urging my favorite debater to say ______, and when he didn't, I was a little bitter, even though I knew it was my first time watching and he was like, really good, so I was probably wrong and he probably wasn't. But then, after he lost the round, I thought, see?? Should've listened to me.

The curse of an in-head debater.

...no but seriously, this round is bizarre. And I'm not sure why the negative stil isn't saying what I want her to.

Oh yea, she can't hear me. Because I'm talking to myself again. Riiight.

The fun thing about debating in your head is that you always have the last word. I mean, seriously, every single argument you brought up was dropped. Also, you get to feel like you won because you thought of things none of the other debaters ever thought of before. And, you can even argue from both sides of the resolution. Can't do that when you're an actual competitor, can you?

The sad thing is they never actually respond to your arguments. And that makes me feel terribly disregarded and lugubrious.

Just the other day, at a debate tournament (yea, we already had our first one), I went up against one of my favorite debaters, that one that I'm terrified of so/because I watch him debate all the time, and I'm telling you, it was a seriously odd feeling to have him actually answer the arguments I brought up. Usually he ignores me because I'm not usually saying them out loud usually. And then, because he's awesome, I almost wished there was another debater up there to give the rebuttals but turns out that was my job. Great.

We already talk to ourselves and the wall at tournaments. I suppose it makes sense that we'd debate in our heads. Just don't do it out loud if you're not actually debating or you'll get yelled at by the judge probably. I'm just saying.

You're homeschooled, so I doubt you ever stop debating.

Value Piracy

When I first heard about this thing called “value piracy,” I knew that it must be really great and that I should try it sometime. And then I found out what it was, and I was even more convinced. (because "pirate" was in my blood and I knew I'd have to square with that one day.) See, here’s how it works for you TPers/Parli People/Interpers/Timers/relatives of mine/people who came here trying to find out stuff about pirates/other non-LDers out there:

Aff gets up and they say, “yay the resolution! The resolution is great because it leads to my value yay please vote aff yay!!”

And the Negative guy says, “Lolyeahno, actually I’m stealing your value ‘cause the resolution is bad because when we disagree with it/support the other side, then we get to that very same value whatnow. Yoho!”

Then he slaps on an eyepatch and bring his hand up from behind the podium to reveal a sharp, shiny hook and a parrot flies in the open window and lands on his shoulder, and the parrot says, “Awwwk! Wind in the sails!” and the Neg gives a couple of “ARRGGS!” before the Aff comes up for Cross-Ex.

It’s pretty great. 

I got to try it the other day. It was pretty great.

Well, what actually happened is that the girl I was up against who was going aff had a value that happened to be the same as mine on the negative, so I reworded my case a bit and got to go all piratical on her. And then in Cross-Ex she said, “Wow! We have the same value! That’s so funny!” (clearly she had made it a point to avoid familiarity with pirates. It was a shame to put a black mark on her record.) and I tried to look at the judge like, oh yea, I totally did that on purpose. Maybe she bought it. Probably not.

In organizations like Stoa and the NCFCA, stealing is generally discouraged. You're not supposed to plagiarize or anything, and when you're asking for a copy of the 1AC, you're actually supposed to give it back at the end of the round, and the same thing for evidence, and if you use the other team's timer, you should return it, and you shouldn't steal pens to use for limited preps either but should ask permission to borrow them, and you shouldn't steal someone else's shoes even if you're about to wear less-than-professional attire into the round especially if they're clearly several sizes off, and you shouldn't steal ballots belonging to another team and write "Slow down!" all over knowing that their coach will make them do push-ups as a result (on second thought, I'm okay with that one) and you shouldn't steal from the snack table unless you say "Thank you!" and you shouldn't steal someone's flowpad or debate bag either, and you shouldn't throw your mashed potatoes up against the wall. All of this of which you are likely aware. HOWEVER, it's totally okay to, from time to time, commandeer (nautical term) your opponent's value when you are debating on the Negative side in Lincoln-Douglas debate. Really. Also, it's fun. 

You're probably wondering if this tactic is madness or brilliance (it's remarkable how often those two traits coincide) and I would strongly urge a ballot in favor of a double-win or something. That's an option, right? It should be. I realize it's not on the ballot, but really, the ballot rules are more like guidelines, anyway. There's simply something splendid about both debaters championing the same standard or weighing mechanism for this round, and avoiding non-fun debates about the imaginary minute differences between Human Dignity and Human Rights. And about how Justice subsumes Liberty so Justice is better but Liberty is the most important of the rights that Justice protects and it's the gold inside the safe so Liberty is what we're ultimately valuing but Justice is the safe on the outside and it's necessary to keep the gold protected so it's more important and... yea, avoid all that and talk about the resolution already, ya bloomin' cockroaches. Arggh.

That just might be, in the words of the great philosopher Jack Sparrow, "much more better."

Or at least it's preferable to simply staying home and lying around. 

You're homeschooled. Drink up, me hearties, yoho!

Debating About Debate

I'm easily delighted. I've hinted vaguely at this once or twice in the past. It's still quite true. One thing that never fails to fill me with glee is a dash of good old-fashioned irony. Just today I realized something incredibly ironic that occurred recently, and it was a little bit of an awkward situation so I didn't even notice the ironicalness at the time, but now I'm so pleased that my amusement is probably leaking out of my ears. Irony makes incredibly unfun situations funny. Like that round that I lost in TP once that I mentioned here, where the other team said the stock issues didn't matter at all and then the judge voted for them because he felt they upheld the very same stock issues. Initially, that was a hard debate to lose and I was not that thrilled about it, but man. Actually winning that round would not have been nearly as entertaining in the long run.

Now that we've covered Background Point 1, Why Chandler Loves Irony, let's move on to an important definition, because those are necessary in any debate round so the judge knows what you mean when you say "is" and "Resolved." So because there are some sticklers who live on these here Internets and insist that irony doesn't mean what most people take it to mean, I will take the time and words to define the term. The definition that I will be using in this round comes from the Collins English Dictionary.

Irony: of, resembling, or containing iron.

Resolutional Analysis: The word "irony" can be used not only to refer to things that are sarcastic or genuinely unexpected, but also to things that are odd in odd ways, because that's what most people think it means and what most people think a word means determines its definition in this blogger's opinion because English is a democracy now so ha.

Great. Glad that was cleared up. Now let's move onto Contention 2) The Content Actually Related to the Title of the Post.

I find debating about debate ironic and therefore delightful. If you think about, it makes sense that people who argue for fun would find things to disagree about in the method by which they argue, but it still seems ironic to me somehow. There are a lot of points of contention in debate land. For instance, you may think it's ridiculous that some people don't like topical Counter-Plans. You may think it's absurd that some people believe a word used in the Resolution can't be used as a value. You may think that you absolutely have to present your own case if you're Negative in LD, and anyone who disagrees is a featherbrain, or that "squirrel" definitions and unexpected parametrics are perfectly acceptable and those who say otherwise are mad as hatters. But think how much crazier life would be if we all agreed on things. Even though there's a 50% chance that it would be easier to run your favorite controversial argument (and a 50% chance that you'd never have to argue at people who run controversial arguments if that's how you roll), it would probably be less fun. More importantly, the Christian Homeschool Debate Community as we know it might cease to exist if all of a sudden debaters agreed all the time. At the very least, the Aff would win every round unless for some odd reason it was declared in the 1AC that the Negative should win. Unlikely.

I'm fascinated by debate theory, which is another reason I heart debate debates, and the great thing is, a lot of other people are, too! I've spent a decent amount of time reading up on ideas and big words that were not necessarily taught to me (the legitimacy of minor repairs in Policy and multiple values in LD tend not to come up in your first year unless you seek them out and I did) because I find them really interesting. Consequently, I've probably developed a lot of strange and potentially contradictory ideas about how debate works that I'm not really aware of because they're all bouncing around in my mind and not coming out of my mouth or fingers at the present. The reason I say this is because the majority of what I believe about debate theory seems to come from reading debate debates. Just today I caught myself eavesdropping on an Internet discussion between two acquaintances of mine and found I agreed with both of them despite the fact that they have polar opposite opinions in an area I clearly need to future research and contemplate. And I will because it's sooo fun. Thank you, other people, for fostering my love of the unofficial rules of debate.

That's why I like debating about debate. It's fun! Do you like it? Why or why not?

And of course, we haven't even touched on the most important question of all debate debates; that is, the question of whether it is better to flow vertically or horizontally.

That is the question.

Or, at least, it's a question.

You're homeschooled. That may be the one thing about homeschool debate that's undebatable*.

*not applicable if you are an alumni, parent, or came here accidentally via the Google

The First Tournament of the Year

Now, this might be you right now. Stop me if it's not. You might be thinking, "Wait. The first tournament of the year? Why is she writing about that now? It's like, mid-October. Doesn't she try to correspond the posts to what's actually going on in real life? Like, the Christmas post came in December, and the summer posts go in the summer, and the graduation post came right about when people were graduating, but this? This is just silly."

Well, guess what, you hypothetical reader, you? If you're not located in SoCal like I am aware many of you, in fact, are, then I ought to tell you that even though I told you last time that non-Californians are weird, the truth is Californians are weird too, and you ought to know that we had a tournament last week. There. I said it. A legitimate qualifying, checkmark-distributing, speechranks-official competition in stinkin' October because we're insane. I'm serious. I'm not teasing. And we're excited also. Oh, so excited. And competitive. Really, really competitive. But it turns out Oregon had a tournament too, and at least some of the people there were non-Californians. So I guess it's not just us.

The first tournament of the year is a marvelous invention. Without it, no other tournaments could come about it. Literally. When I was a small child (non-unique) I used to use the phrase "There's a first time for everything" as an excuse to get my timid friends to go on rollar coasters and do other stuff they'd never done, but even when I was in early elementary school I was aware that there was not necessarily a first time for everything. The other kids didn't know that. Anyway, my point is, when it comes to tournament seasons, there's a first one for every year, and that is actually necessary for said tournament season to exist. Point B is that this tournament is great. Why? Because it's fun to get back into the swing of things and see people again and warm up our forlorn voices and get judged and all that good stuff. You know that feeling of exhilaration that inevitably accompanies a competition, no matter how unprepared everyone is? Yea, you get that too, and that's cool.

Additionally, if you go to an early tournament, you have really good odds of being one of the top people on speechranks. I'm on the "first page" (top 60) right now, and all I have is one measly checkmark. Never mind that there are only 2-and-a-half pages, I'm on the first one! That's a big deal, you guys. Please pretend to be excited for me. Plus, I'm halfway qualified to NITOC in impromptu right now. A lot of people are halfway qualified in something. And we've got like, forever to earn that second recherché check. So excuse us if we're feeling super terrific.

You know what being done with the first tournament of the year means, right? It means another tournament is just around the corner. Tonight, while we were washing dishes, my charming sister reminded me that we have a real, live debate qualifier in less than a month.

Lovely.

First things first: you're homeschooled, and this year is going to be fun.

Peculiar Arguments

Here's the scenario:

It's at night. It's kind of late. It's been a long day at a long tournament and I'd rather be in bed than be debating that case again. You know how every year there's a case that a ton of people run? Cases like JVA, Death Tax... that's all I can think of. (I haven't actually been in debate that long.) So yea, it was death tax. Excuse me, estate tax. We're debating an out-of-state team. The interesting thing about out-of-state teams is that Californians are convinced that all non-California debaters are weird. As a general rule. It's not true all of the time, but I guess there are enough abnormal stories for the stereotype to stick to some degree. And it's not even like there aren't weird debaters in CA (and this steoreotype probably isn't held in my home state exclusively either). There are. But there you go. Back to me: it's late and I'm tired and sick of going neg against the Estate tax case and the judge lost his glasses so he was wearing prescription sunglasses indoors and that was throwing me off. I'm thinking about how sick I was of death tax and how I was tired and sunglasses and blog post ideas probably because I usually do in debate rounds and meanwhile my partner is cross-exing an out-of-state twelve year old and I hear the other half of my team ask, "Are the stock issues important?"

"No."

My head jerks up.

"Not at all?"

"Nope."

"...okay."

Fun fact: Judge voted Aff because they upheld the stock issues. Ironic.

Regardless, you know those arguments you hear, or remarks in Cross-Examination that are just so peculiar, sometimes all you can think is, "Huh. That was odd." It was one of those times.

Maybe they just don't understand what they're saying. Maybe they didn't know that when running Topicality, you have to say why something isn't Topical, not just that it's not. Maybe they didn't understand you in Cross-Ex when you asked how their plan would solve for the harms and they said it wouldn't. Maybe they didn't really mean to turn the impact of your DA entitled "Death, Destruction and Dismemberment."

Then again, maybe they did. Maybe they knew exactly what they were getting into. Debaters are weird, you guys. We say weird things all the time. We even say things we flat-out disbelieve for the sake of the debate. And sometimes, the arguments we make sound plain peculiar to the outside world, no matter how much sense it makes to us. And I'm thinking the bizarre arguments that are made cognitively must make sense to someone. Right? Otherwise, why run them? One time I heard about an LDer whose value was math. Seriously. True story. Math. (This is the part where I say, "He was from a different state." and everyone nods and says, "Ohhh....") I can't tell you how long I giggled over that one (especially trying to picture the face of his opponent as he said, "The value I will be upholding in today's debate round is... math. Man, that was probably hysterical.) but I can tell you that I would have laughed a lot longer had everyone else in the room filled with people not been trying to pay attention to a debate lecture. A similar circumstance occurred during the talk where one young man reminisced about a counter-plan he once ran. Also in LD. And he won that round.

The fun thing about peculiar arguments is that they certainly keep us on our toes. I'm sure I've run one or two. None come to mind because I probably didn't realize they were peculiar at the time. Once I almost used an analogy that would have essentially said that the affirmative team's mindset supports keeping chains of assassins in business, but fortunately I said something else. That certainly would have been odd and probably bad also. For the time being, let's pretend I never say silly things in debate.

Ha.

You're homeschooled, and the inevitable lack of socialization must account for any and all peculiarity.