Merry Christmas!

Have fun opening presents, listening to Michael Buble', and giving gifts. Take a moment and remember the true meaning (I don't care how cliche' that sounds) of Christmas if you have too. Read Luke 2, watch Charlie Brown specials. And don't forget to help clean up the wrapping paper after opening gifts. And thank your parents. They do a lot for you, not just at Christmas.

Vote affirmative. That can be your gift to me. ;)

Ten Thousand

This Wednesday, after posting my Taylor Swift parody, I broke 10,000 pageviews all time history here on Kitkats and Impromptu. Not specifically that post, but all my posts. I had been counting pageviews for a few weeks leading up to this. after I hit 9,000 I knew what the next big milestone was.

I was expecting something to change.

Maybe having so many views would bump up my confidence.

Maybe having so many views would mean to beginning of my internet popularity.

Maybe having so many views would result in confetti cannons going off and balloons falling from the ceiling.

New Years, however, is still two weeks away.

Nothing has changed. I still have frizzy hair and glasses. I'm still shorter than most of my friends.

I'm not saying I was defining my entire worth off of how many views my blog had, but I guess I was expecting a small bump in value from this huge milestone. But instead I just had to figure out which button to press to take a screen shot so I could post the above picture on Facebook.

Nothing has changed. I'm still going to sit here, figuring out what songs to do parodies of and what debate related lists to make.

There are people out there who count things in the millions. I'll be here counting the dozens and hundreds and hoping to write another post with the popularity of You Know You're a Christian Homeschool Speech and Debate Kid When...

Vote affirmative. Not that it'll change anything.

I'll Flow Your Case

So I've decided to venture out from Disney parodies and try my hand at a Taylor Swift song. I do not hold the views expressed in this parody or the original song. So, without further ado...

I'll Flow Your Case - A parody of Taylor Swift's Blank Space.

Nice 1NC
Where's your flow?
I could show you my negative briefs
DAs structured perfectly
Heard you speak and I thought
Oh my gosh, look at that case
You look like my next neg loss
Debate's a game
We should partner

New briefcase
Suit and tie
I can read you like a 1AC
You have funny openers
And you know my analogies
So hey, let's trial
I'm dying to win this next tourney
Grab your aff case and my pens
I can make a novice win for a weekend

So it's gonna be the whole year
Or we'll never qualify
When the tournament's ended
We'll see if you won't cry
Got a long list of ex-partners
They'll tell you I can't speak
But you know I love debaters
And you love debate

Cause you're young and you're novice
We may not get that far
We'll make it to outrounds
Or without a new checkmark
Got a long list of ex-partners
They'll tell you I can't speak
But I've got a blank legal pad
And I'll flow your case

Colored pens
New blazer
I could show you my negative briefs
Definitions, solvency
You're the 1, baby, I'm your 2
Find out what you run
Debate that case for a month
But the tourney's yet to come
Oh no

Solvency, uninherent
I could make all the DAs turn
Contradictions in my speech
Keep you second guessing like
Oh my gosh
Signifcance destroys our case
And your speech
But I'll bring up a brand card
Cause darling, I'm 1A giving the AR

So it's gonna be the whole year
Or we'll never qualify
When the tournament's ended
We'll see if you won't cry
Got a long list of ex-partners
They'll tell you I can't speak
But you know I love debaters
And you love debate

Cause you're young and you're novice
We may not get that far
We'll make it to outrounds
Or without a new checkmark
Got a long list of ex-partners
They'll tell you I can't speak
But I've got a blank legal pad
And I'll flow your case

Judges ignore 2ARs in RFD

Don't say I didn't say I didn't warn you

Judges ignore 2ARs in RFD

Don't say I didn't say I didn't warn you

So it's gonna be the whole year
Or we'll never qualify
When the tournament's ended
We'll see if you won't cry
Got a long list of ex-partners
They'll tell you I can't speak
But you know I love debaters
And you love debate

Cause you're young and you're novice
We may not get that far
We'll make it to outrounds
Or without a new checkmark
Got a long list of ex-partners
They'll tell you I can't speak
But I've got a blank legal pad
And I'll flow your case

Things Everyone Has Gotten on a Ballot - The Third Year Chronicles #16

Having been to 17 tournaments over the last few years, I've noticed that, along with things that happen every tournament, there are some ballots that don't come as a surprise to anyone. Except novices. But they too learn of the ballots that come back every tournament.

1. Blank First

The judge ranks you first, but can't seem to find the words to express how much they loved your speech (???). One time, I got one of these ballots, then Mom (who was in ballot push) heard someone talk about how that judge saw this one speech that was amazing and apparently that was me. He really raved about my speech, but didn't write anything on the ballot.

2. Blank 5th and Below

You find this ballot and expect to at least get some good advice on how to improve your speaking. But instead all you get is a 5th and below and no reason as to why they would do that to you. You are left with no idea what to do. (See also 'Great job!')

3. Re-Ranked

One time I was last in the room, and apparently the judge had already decided what to rank me before I had even gone, based off the last speakers. Then I "kept getting better" and he went from ranking me fifth to ranking me second. Of course, there are other time that I've been ranked higher, and dropped from second or third to fifth and below. It happens even more frequently with speaker points on debate ballots.

 4. "You have great potential!"

Everyone has gotten this. Is there always suggestions on how to reach your potential? No. But the assurance that you have 'great potential' will surely bring some form of encouragement. Except probably not.

5. 1AR Slow Down

If that judge had ever given a 1AR, they would not be telling me to slow down. I guess not everyone has gotten this on a ballot, since not everyone has given a 1AR, but if you have, you know what I'm talking about.

6. Partner Mix-Up

All too often, the judge will get partners mixed up, whether in duo or TP or parli. My friends who are identical twins are partnered in TP and, despite the fact that they are sure to clarify who is who in every speech, they still get mixed up. It's unbelievably frustrating.

7. Great Job! (Just kidding you lost)

Similar to Blank 5th and Below, this kind of ballot provides no advice on how to improve. It does, however, tell you that you have a 'wonderful speech' or that you did a 'great job!' -5th and below. Super encouraging.

8. Foreign Language

The ballot that you spend the majority of the ballot discussion at the ballot party attempting to translate. But, as hard as you squint and stare and tilt your head, you can't make out what they're saying.

9. Random Smiley Face

Some judges think that putting a smiley face at the end of a degrading sentence will lessen the impact. This is actually true. But often it's the only legible thing on the ballot. (Smile faces are pretty great, actually.)

10. Excellent and Good

I'm not sure what this means. Is it almost excellent, but not quite? Or is it really excellent? Or were they just indecisive? I DON'T KNOW.

If I wanted to, I could go through and count all my ballots, but that would take forever. The folder containing all my speech ballots from last year is almost an inch thick. I've read so many ballots and gotten every possible rank (even eighth.) I've gotten crazy, infuriating ballots. I've gotten ballots that made my tournament.

I've cried and laughed over ballots, but in the end, they're not what matters. They won't be what we remember once we've graduated. It's the relationships and friendships built over our years in speech and debate. Maybe not all of those friendships continue after we graduate, but regardless, they are worth treasuring and worth fighting for.

And I just turned a post about ballots into a post about friendships. You're welcome.

Vote affirmative, even if the judge didn't.

(This post is part of a series called The Third Year Chronicles. Click here for TTYC #15)

((*DISCLAIMER* for the record, I know judges are the reason we can have this event. I'm undyingly grateful for the time they spend watching us and judging us. They can be frustrating sometimes, but so can we, as the competitors. Don't get me started on the crazy things people do in rounds.))

Every Tournament - The Third Year Chronicles #15

This past weekend I attended my seventeenth tournament. This was one of the... most interesting tournaments I've been to. It was one of the few tournaments I've been to without my club being a huge presence. There were only about 11 of us, aside from the juniors. The order of rounds was divergent from the average. It rained. It was foggy and cloudy. But regardless of this, there were some things that were the same as at every tournament.

Over the last couple of years, I've noticed these things are unchanging at nearly every tournament.

1. Mispronounced Names

During breaks and awards, the tournament director, no matter who he or she may be, mispronounces at least one name. Every. Single. Time. Often, the whole tournament has to shout the correct pronunciation at the director. (i.e. Wasilewski). Even if this person wins everything, the name still gets said wrong. Every tournament director does it, and we get over it.

2. Postings Stampede

Postings go up. Everyone charges the wall and surrounds the postings person. Feet are stepped on. Debate boxes are tripped over. Most debate related injuries occur here.

3. Fake Postings Stampede

Someone yells POSTINGS over the noise of the student area, and sometimes they get a group to go with them to to postings wall. But, in reality, it's just postings from the last round. People are deceived. People are angered. Those responsible for the fake rush are frequently sent to the Debate Dungeon.

4. New Embarrassing Tournament Stories

For instance, during prep before the first parli round, I was chewing gum. The judge arrived before the other team, and while we were waiting for said team, I figured I should spit out my gum. I stood up and walked behind the judge to the trash can. I bent over and, before I spit the gum out, hit my head against the whiteboard. I dropped my braided hair and it fell back over my shoulder and I spit my gum out and it landed in my hair. I tried madly to get it out, but, as you may know, gum and hair is not the greatest combination. So I had gum in my hair and on my hands and it was gross.

5. Ballot Party Insanity

The ballot party on Saturday was small, and ballots weren't discussed much. Rather, we talked about the atrocity of the Hobbit movies and even more insane tournaments and other stuff I don't remember because I was exhausted. As always, we got a little loud (mostly Katie. She was loud.) and we got shushed by a member of the hotel staff, and we discussed how cliche such an act was.

(From Thirty Seconds Used)

Also, I asked people to vote affirmative. But that doesn't actually happen every tournament. It does, however, happen every blog post.

So yeah... You should do that.

(This post is part of a series called The Third Year Chronicles. Click here for TTYC #14)

Thanksgiving

Time for the obligatory Thanksgiving post!

You probably won't read through the whole list, but it was fun to make. So, here we go.

Things I am Thankful for:

• The grace given to me
• Speech and debate
• Tournament season
• People who comment on my blog (you should do that)
• The freedom to listen to Christmas music without judgement
• Negative briefs
• Go Teen Writers
• Purple trophies
• Awesome impromptu topics
• High quality Christian music
• Food
• Cheesecake
• Jamie Grace's songs that describe my life way too well
• Drawing references so I can fool everyone into thinking I can draw well
• Tiny pumpkins
• Rain boots
• Rain
• Snow before Thanksgiving
• Umbrellas
• Hair spray
• Bobby pins when you need them
• Friends who loan you bobby pins when you need them
• Cold weather
• Winter clothes
• Lists about things I'm thankful for
• My parents who read my blog posts (*waves* Hi Mom!) as well as do many amazing things that are amazing.
• Fiction
• Clean love songs
• Friends who encourage me
• Friends who get and laugh at my jokes
• Friends who help me clean at club
• Chicken and Dumplings
• Judges with legible handwriting
• Judges who get my Taylor Swift references
• Extemp questions I know something about
• Writing ability
• Pinterest (it's a gift and a curse)
• Friends who don't judge my adoration of cookie dough
• Wearing my own nametag
• Parli resolutions that aren't weighted
• Bright pink heels
• Smooth terrain for walking in the aforementioned pink heels
• A clean room
• Pre-written parli cases
• Band-aids
• Fingers that don't get hit by pool balls
• Colorful pens
• Not getting last place in impromptu
• Cheesy hallmark movies
• Remembering to wear my retainer
• Long showers
• Sleeping late
• People who read this blog
• People who read my blog and tell me they have done so
• People who watch my speeches
• Chocolate chip cookie dough ice-cream
• Skater skirts and leggings
• Debate dance parties
• Pretending to be able to dance
• People who vote affirmative

No really. You should do that.

Reference

Tournament Exhaustion - The Third Year Chronicles #14

It's the third day since the end of the tournament. I still can't wake up at a decent time (for this I have post tournament sleep disorder to blame). I have yet another tournament the first week of December, and I refuse to acknowledge that that is next week (Ahh!). Surely I can't have another tournament so soon?

Actually, I have two tournaments next month. And I had two this month. At least I'll get to listen to Christmas music free of criticism and judgement from certain parties. (Hey, Hallmark has had Christmas stuff in the front window since September.)

So where will that leave me?

Tired. Really tired. I barely have a free week between now and Christmas, and very little time to recover from tournamenting so hard and so long. At least I finally cleaned my room, which had grown in disorder since September and the end of my free time.

Don't get me wrong, I'm really looking forward to the tournaments coming up in the next month, but sleeping until 1:00PM sounds pretty appealing right now. Unfortunately, my brain has got it in its head that I need to wake up 6:30. Every. Day.

But that's cool. I'll just read the first chapters of books I really want on Amazon. If you wanted to know what to get me for Christmas, the answer is books.

Vote affirmative. I'm too exhausted to think of a creative reason why.

(This post is part of a series called The Third Year Chronicles. Click here for TTYC #13)

My Speech - The Third Year Chronicles #13

I didn't think much about one of our senior's absence at club on Thursday. Her nonattendance wouldn't directly affect me. Only it did.

Every week at club, between speech and debate, we have what's called the IF Moment (IF standing for Invictus Fides). It consists of parents/coaches and older students giving a devotional/message thing to the rest of the club. This last week, the aforementioned senior was supposed to give said devotional. However, she got sick and her attendance would've risked spreading the illness.

As extemp dismissed for the IF moment, Mrs. H commented that she didn't have someone for the IF moment. Apparently, in the seconds that followed, I lost all ability to think before I spoke. Now, even if I had thought about it, I probably still would've responded the same way. But the words kind of just came out of my mouth unimpeded.

"I can give my speech."

I had finished memorizing the OO I wrote in August not 24 hours prior to the club meeting. (Yes, it took me three months to memorize a ten minute speech.) When I wrote the speech, I thought that it would be a good speech to give as the IF moment, I just hadn't gathered the courage to ask if I could do it.

So when the opportunity arose, I took it. Then I freaked out because there's like a hundred people in our club and I memorized my speech literally the before. I sat down in the front row as Mrs. Martin made announcements. My parli partner criticized me jokingly for having my script with me for back up.

My hands shook as Mrs. Martin called me up. I stared back at the crowd of IF-ers and I gave my speech. Then I went to debate and everything was normal.

Anyway I'm going to go freak out about the tournament this weekend. You should vote affirmative.

(This post is part of a series called The Third Year Chronicles. Click here for TTYC #12)

People - The Third Year Chronicles #12

I arrived at the tournament facility early. My mom works in ballot push, so I showed up a half hour earlier than everyone else. I sat at a table near the judges' area and pulled out Pride and Prejudice. A few people from Action, the debate club hosting the tournament, were there early to help set up. I set the book down after reading a chapter and start greeting my few friends who were there.

Then people really started showing up. It was, of course to be expected. But, for some reason, I wasn't expecting it. Maybe I was too busy trying to get my really buddy to calm down about LD, or because I was too excited about parli to think about it. But when the tournament came I wasn't expecting the abundance of people. I recognized many of them, and met more.

I can't believe I forgot about my favorite part of tournaments. The hanging out and talking and laughing and the friendship. It's rare to find a group of people who have camaraderie like we have in Stoa, or at least in StoaSouth.

Debate is awesome and speech is great but we tend to forget that one of the best parts of this whole homeschool forensics thing is the friendships. Tournament would be stressful and boring if we focused only on the competition and ignored the fellowship.

Vote affirmative, and don't forget.

(This post is part of a series called The Third Year Chronicles. Click here for TTYC #11)

The First Tournament - The Third Year Chronicles #11

Tomorrow I am leaving for the first tournament of the season. At least, the first tournament for me. There are some states that had tournaments as soon as possible. Why they would do that is beyond me, but other states are crazy (in the best way).

So now a bunch of us are freaking out because omigoshthere'satournamentintwodays. There are briefs to print and cases to tweak and whatever LDers do to do. It's a debate only tournament, so there aren't many speeches to memorize. But that's just an excuse not to memorize my speech that I wrote in August.

Now is the time we should be freaking out, right? I mean, we have 36 hours before the tournament and that is clearly not enough time to do everything we were supposed to do a month ago. And if you don't get all your stuff done you won't win any rounds or get any speaker awards and you certainly won't get a green checkmark. You'll get up to the lectern and spew out gibberish about email privacy or freedom of speech or whatever that parli resolution may be. All that hard work you did at the last minute gone to waste.

It's natural at this point to panic. You're drowning in piles and piles of briefs and flow sheets and suits and check lists and insanity. There's all this work to be done and no time in which to do it.

Stop. For like, two seconds, just stop. That card isn't going to vanish into the void. Your heels will not go missing moments before you pack them. Calm down for one second and listen to me.

You don't have to have everything together. You don't need to have every brief in its exact spot. The tournament will go on regardless of whether or not you remembered to bring eyeshadow and mascara. You may have to use a hotel printer or buy shoes from Wal-Mart. You may have to borrow someone else's tie.

You don't have to have every last thing perfectly lined up. You don't have to give the best speech you've ever given every single round. You don't have to take home trophies or medals or green check marks. You don't have to break to finals or win every round. If those are the reasons why you're competing, then go ahead and freak out and panic and quadruple check every last thing.

It's okay to be nervous. But don't stress yourself out over one tournament. This is the first tournament and you don't have to have it all together. Which is good because I don't think we could.

So calm down. Take a deep breath. Then you can do all the things you need to do and actually survive until the tournament.

Vote affirmative, and pleasedon'tfreakout.

(This post is part of a series called The Third Year Chronicles. Click here for TTYC #10)

The First Tourney This Season - The Third Year Chronicles #10

(Inspired by for the First Time In Forever, from Disney's Frozen, as well as the upcoming tournament season.)

Registration is open, the schedule's announced

I didn't think they'd tell us this that fast

Who know we'd need 8,000 TP briefs?

For months I've researched for extemp

Why have give an OO with no judge?

There are already people on the waiting list

There'll be actual real debate rounds

Not just practice at club

But wow am I so ready for those breaks

At the first tourney this season

There'll be extemp and duo

At the first tourney this season

I'll be giving my OO

I don't know if I'm just nervous and anxious

Or if I'm actually prepared

But at the first tourney this season

I'll be with my friends

That night imagine me standing up

Waiting for them to call first place

The picture of nerves and excitement

I'm suddenly standing all alone

Everyone else from finals called on stage

I want to freak out, cry, but I keep face

And then I walk and take my trophy

Which is totally amaze

Nothing like the medals from last year

At the first tourney this season

I can read first place ballots

At the first tourney this season

I can take home big trophies

And I know it is totally crazy

To think I'll even place

But at the first tourney this season

At least of I've got a chance

Don't let them in

Don't let them see

Give the platform you always have to give

OO, extemp

Do persuasive

Give one interp and everyone will know

But there's only four weeks left

(There's only four weeks left)

It's agony to prep

(It's agony to prep)

Tell me when there's only one day left

(One day)

At the first tourney this season

I'm getting what I've waited for

A chance to give my brand new speech

A chance to see my friends

And I know it all ends that Sunday

So it has to be that week

Cause at the first tourney this season

The first tourney this season

Nothing's in my way!

For the first time in forever, vote affirmative.

(This post is part of a series called The Third Year Chronicles. Click here for TTYC #9)

If People Asked Questions Like Debaters

If you have ever attended a lecture dedicated to the topic of cross examination, you probably know that, in order to utilize your CX time to its fullest, you should ask close ended questions. While an admittedly excellent strategy in debate rounds, questioning of this nature is not an effective way to communicate in real life. But what if we did ask questions like debaters?

Normal: We're out of cereal.
Debater: Would you agree that, under the status quo, we are in need of Lucky Charms?

Normal:  The dogs used the bathroom in the living room.
Debater: Were you aware that the dogs have failed to relieve themselves, you know, outside?

Normal: You've been playing video games for a long time.
Debater: Isn't it accurate to say that you have been playing video games for seven consecutive hours?

Normal: Go pick up all your stuff from the bathroom floor.
Debater: Would it be fair to say that you really need to clean our bathroom?

Normal: How are you?
Debater: Is it your contention that you are doing well today?

Normal: We should have frisbee next week.
Debater: Would you agree that we need to have frisbee next weekend?

Normal: Do you want to hang out on Saturday?
Debater: Is it fair to say that you are free this Saturday?

Normal: Can I have one of your Starbursts?
Debater: Were you aware that there are currently no pink Starbursts in my possestion?

Normal: Vote affirmative.
Debater: It's for all these reasons I strongly urge an affirmative ballot at the end of today's debate round.

Well, that one's kind of weird anyway. I mean, who goes around asking people to vote affirma--Oh. Yeah...

Vote affirmative, because you ask questions like a weir--I mean DEBATER.

Tournaments Are The Greatest

October: The month in which CHSADKs panic about the impending tournament season and stress out over everything. Right now we are very concerned with finding evidence and writing cases and memorizing/actually writing speeches, We stress out about the news because who knows what whacko question we may get in extemp. We have nightmares about buying the wrong type of flow pen. Our printer has nervous breakdowns because of the excessive brief printing. We have a nervous breakdown because it's 9:30 Wednesday night and you have five pieces of evidence to find before midnight.

But let's slow down a minute. At this time of year, it's super easy to start stressing out about assignments and speech memorizing and case finding. Between everything we have to do to get ready for tournaments, we forget about the amazing things that come along with tournaments. This post is dedicated to that very subject.

1. Something to do on the weekends

Admittedly, I have pretty much no life outside speech and debate (deal with it Hans). Occasionally, we'll do something like frisbee or Main Event, but most times the weekend is spent filing extemp articles and researching some obscure case only one person in the country is running (forage fish, ft-dubz).

2. You see all your people

Despite having no life outside of speech and debate, I have plenty of friends. Unfortunately, not all of them are from my club. Not all of them are from my city. Not all of them are from my state. This means I see these people only at tournaments. This means that I over-react when I do see them and I may get a little... excited.

3. Talking to walls is normal

Under most circumstances, talking to walls is considered socially unacceptable. This changes at tournaments. You'll walk down a hallway and spot an interper making weird facial expressions and consistently shifting body positions, or a platformer reciting their lines with all the passion of a platformer. But they aren't giving their speeches to other competitors or parents. They are reciting their speech at the wall. After observing this occurrence, you proceed to turn towards a nearby corner and begin to give your speech, whatever it may be.

4. Awesome ballot parties commence

Admittedly, not all ballot parties are totally stupendously amazing. Occasionally, there will just be a bunch of debaters hanging around a hotel lobby saying unintelligible things that no one remember come the morning. But then there are the ballot parties that go down in history as ballot parties that changed ballot partying as we know it. (Okay, those don't happen very often.) Most times it's just a lot of fun to hang out with your friends without worrying about being on time to extemp prep.

5. Breaks

When doing postings at club, there are always a few people who try to start the forensic clap after every team name, myself included. We usually (always) get shut down. But during a breaks at a tournament, they can't shut us down. But the forensic clap isn't the only great part about breaks. I love watching people's reactions when they break, and I love hearing my friends names. Even if I can't sleep the night before because of all the nerves.

6. Blog post inspiration

After tournaments, I'm always overflowing with inspiration for blog posts and I have to restrain myself from posting five things in one day.  Thus, there is a post boom during tournament season. You're all welcome.

I could go on, but I'll hold back so you can get back to e-ring.

Vote affirmative, because you know how great tournaments are.

Things Change - The Third Year Chronicles #9

(People do these a lot, right? Letters to themselves, what they wish they'd known two or five or ten years ago. This one is to little novice me, specifically in October of 2012, about a month before the first tournament.)

Dear Hadley,

It's your novice year. The start of your speech and debate career. The start of many friendships. You're starting to overcome your fears. You shake when you stand up to give a speech, and, I'm sorry to say, you still will in the years to come. But that's okay. It's mostly adrenaline anyway.

You're afraid. You don't want to disappoint all the people who keep saying you're going to do well this year. Don't let the pressure get to you. Listen to what your coaches say and you'll do fine. You won't win every round or get first place on every ballot. You may have to wait a year or so for trophies, but that's fine. Trophies seem so big and unattainable right now. Hold on to that. Let 1st place ballots matter. Don't treat them like they're ordinary. Someone ranked you  above seven other competitors. That's not something small.

Right now, a month before your first tournament, you're still wondering why you got yourself into this. The elephant in the room hasn't gotten much smaller than it was at debate camp. You barely know the difference between solvency and significance, and the word 'parametrics' makes you dizzy. The thought of giving an impromptu speech makes you want to curl into a ball and weep. That feeling will go away--mostly.

And, oh, the people. So many people. Right now it seems as though you know everyone's name, yet no one knows yours. That will change. Soon, people will run up to you, calling your name, greeting you with all the enthusiasm of Daniel Martin. Your days of pathetic friendlessness are over. You'll make many friends this year. However, not all of them will stay your friends. That's okay. You'll find new friends--or they may find you. The people you think you'll stay friends with for a long time won't always do as such. People who you think you won't ever be close to may surprise you.

Things won't always be this way. No year is the same as the last. Things change, and they change quite a bit at times. Some things get easier--impromptu speeches, debate research, speaking in front of others. Some things get harder--keeping friendships, staying within time limits on all your speeches, Things get stressful and crazy. Sometimes they may break your heart.

You'll learn how to overcome your fears and your pride and your insecurity, though those things never truly end. You'll learn how to face failures and face successes. But you know something that I seem to forget: it's not about the stress, the trophies, the fifth and belows. You're not focused on those things right now. You've heard stories of success and stories of failure. Losing stories and 1st place trophy stories. The point of all of those stories: the trophies and medals and 1st places don't matter. What is important is the people. The people in the stories. The people in your life. Make time for people--not things.

Things change. Hold on to what you have now. Hold on to moments. Embarrassing ones (there are lots of those), awkward ones, devastating ones, wonderful ones. Do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit, rather, in humility, value others above yourself. (Philippians 2:3. A good verse there, lovey.) Remember that, when everything seems chaotic, that God's love will always remain.

It's my third year. Things here are different than they were two years ago when I didn't know what permutation was (still trying to figure that out, actually). I watch novices like you as they start to grasp what this whole debate thing looks like (though some have a pretty good idea already.) They ask questions I immediately know the answer to--then I realize that I asked the same questions when I was a novice; when I was you.

Parli, extemp, duo, DI, finals, medals, trophies, green checkmarks, humility, laughter. Stress, headaches, e-ring, clean up, emails, insecurity, tears. It's life in speech and debate, and it gets crazy sometimes. But crazy is good, right? So don't be upset that things are changing. There is beauty in change, even in heartbreak. There it beauty and wonder and sometimes pain.

Hold on to right now. Don't cling to it as a comfort zone, but remember it. I was you only two years ago, but things have changed. They'll change even more in the future, I'm sure. But, wow, it hit me hard this year. Don't be afraid, even if things do change.

Yours truly,
~Hadley Grace

(P.S.- Remember to always, always vote affirmative.)

(This post is part of a series called The Third Year Chronicles. Click here for TTYC #8.)

Expectations - The Third Year Chronicles #8

I paced back and forth across the floor of my narrow bathroom, feeling trapped and alone. It wasn't like I was locked in the bathroom. No, it was just summer. A summer that seemed as though it would drag on until I died of loneliness. People can die from that, right?

Speech camp felt as though it would never come. I sat on the ground, and, unable to stop them, let a few tears roll down my face.  I wanted summer to end, and I wanted it to end now. Once the summer ended,  I would write and practice speeches. I would learn about the new resolution. I would learn how to parli. But most importantly, I would see my friends. I couldn't wait. I couldn't wait. I could not wait.

But I was also worried, afraid, apprehensive, other synonyms for concerned. While I wasn't expecting the coming year to be totally and completely divergent from my first and second years, the fear that perhaps it would be bit at me. But I pushed it away. Everything was going to be fine. Everything was going to be perfect.


I'm really bad at predicting the ending of stories. So I usually don't try. Actually, I try not to. I let the story play out, never trying to guess at what will happen next. Because of this, I rarely think of books or movies as predictable--unless they are so grossly predictable that even I, in all my poor foreseeing abilities, can tell exactly what is going to happen next.


However, I am not at all like this in real life. I don't think I do it intentionally, but I find myself trying to figure out what will happen next week or next month or next year. But, as I am with fictional stories, I'm no good at predicting what will happen in my actual life. Alas, I am a dreamer. I enjoy looking ahead to the future, even just the near future. This leads to expectations. Expectations lead to disappointments.

I was going to see my friends. It was a month after debate camp had ended. I would be going to the first club meeting of the year in mere minutes.

Despite arriving only a few minutes late, I managed to walk in after announcements had started. No problem. I would just have to enthusiastically greet all of my friends after the club briefing ended. I sat anxiously through the meeting, waiting for the moment of release and socialization.

I expected my second year of speech and debate to be significantly different than my first. And, sure, there were a few changes. I made new friends and lost a couple of others. The tournaments I went to varied in population from the previous year. But overall, it wasn't all that different than before. Subtracting the massive disappointment of not attending NITOC.

So after last year's unremarkable differences, I was expecting this year to resemble last year in most ways, with the same sort of differences. Differences that wouldn't appear until tournament season was in full swing. I'm really bad at predicting things.

I had never felt this stressed before. And I've had to print of briefs and script forms at 11:00pm the day before a tournament. But this was something else. I had skimmed over the many emails I had received whilst in Arkansas prepping my case with my TP partner. But now I was back from Arkansas and I had all sorts of things to do before club tomorrow afternoon. My e-ring was due (quite graciously) before club the next morning. There were things on ISIS I had to watch and read and learn. I had to send emails to the loop about cleaning. Oh and I was feeling especially inspired to write in my novel that evening. Great timing, inspiration. Also, there was this thing called sleep that I kind of sort of needed a lot. Maybe staying extra days in Arkansas was a bad idea. Maybe I should've waited for a less stressful time.

It's not just the research and emails that I've been stressing out about. Something happened this summer (I won't go into details) that changed my perspective on my friendships. Suddenly, my relationships didn't seem so permanent and didn't seem as meaningful. Almost every week after club for the past four weeks, I've found myself questioning my friendships. I'm worried that I'll lose relationships I really value. Maybe none of these fears are founded, and I'll move past this. But right now I don't know what to expect.

Maybe I should stop trying to predict what will happen next. As I stated earlier, it will lead to disappointment.

So far this year has not been what I expected it to be. But God doesn't operate by our expectations. I guess I just have to trust Him and His plan and not my own suppositions. Maybe it's better that way.

Vote affirmative. It's the expected response.

(This post is part of a series called The Third Year Chronicles. Click here for TTYC #7.)

I Do Parli - The Third Year Chronicles #7

(Inspired by 'I See the Light' from Disney's Tangled and my participation in parli this year.)

All those days researching one topic

All those years, with one single rez

All that time, printing off TP briefs and doing e-ring

Now I have fifteen minute prep time

Now I have dozens of flow sheets

Prepping here, it's oh so clear

I'm where I'm meant to be

And at last I do parli

There's no cross-examination

At last I do parli

And it's like the rez is new

And it's fast paced with no prep

And my partnerships have shifted

All at once the resolution's different

I'm partnered with you.

All those days dragging my debate box

All those years madly printing briefs

All that time wishing I could knock during my partner's speech

Now we're here, writing down contentions

Now we're here, suddenly I know

Debating here, it's crystal clear

I'm where I'm meant to go

And at last I do parli
There's no cross-examination
At last I do parli
And it's like the rez is new
And it's fast paced with no prep
And my partnerships have shifted
All at once the resolution's different
I'm partnered with you.

(This post is part of a series called The Third Year Chronicles. Click here for TTYC #6.)

I Can Go To NITOC - The Third Year Chronicles #6

(Based off I Can Go The Distance from Disney's Hercules.)

I have often dreamed of a tournament
Where a great big trophy will be waiting for me
Where the crowds will cheer when they hear my speech
And the judges keep saying that I win first place

I will write my speech, I can find a thesis
My great speech topic will make judges shed tears
I know every ballot, will leave me ranked first
I would practice for hours 'til I qualify for Nats

I just wrote my speech, I can give my thesis
Tournaments are long, but somehow I'll be strong
I know every coach will help me do well
I will go to tournaments until I qualify

***

Yes, I have often dreamed of such a tournament. I will indeed write my speech, along with a thesis statement to go with it. I will practice and my coaches will help me. However, not all of my ballots are going to rank me first. I may not go home with giant trophies that are perfect for eating unhealthy servings of ice-cream. I don't know if I will qualify for NITOC. But Nationals shouldn't be the goal. Yes, it's a great and wonderful thing, qualifying for nats. Yes, I would totally like to go to NITOC in all of my events (and I have a crazy amount of events).

But those two coveted green checkmarks aren't what we should be competing for. As we go into this speech and debate year, we need to be reminded of that. We won't win every round and we won't win every tournament and we may not even go to NITOC. Does that mean that all the hard work we poured into our speeches and into our beloved cases and briefs is wasted?

NO!!!

If your reason for competing in speech and debate is trophies and medals and glory, then, as Jordan Taylor would say, you're doing it wrong! The hardware is fine. Win trophies, get checkmarks, go to NITOC. But please, please remember why we love speech and debate so much.

It's the nerves we feels during breaks, wanting desperately for our friends to break. It's the cold lunches we share with our people at tournaments. It's the friendships we develop at tournaments and club meetings and the time in between. It's the reaction your friend has when they get their first 1st Place ballot. It's the clapping and cheering during awards as our friends walk across the stage. It's the adrenaline rushes and excitement before every round and every tournament.

There are so many things I love about speech and debate, but most of all, I love the people. You guys, my people, my friends, my family.

I want to qualify for NITOC. I want to win trophies. But those things aren't my goals this year. This year I want to show love to other people. I'll pray for my fellow competitors, not just right before rounds, but between tournaments, because we all have our struggles, and we all need prayer. I want to encourage other competitors, not tear them down. I want to be known for showing God's love to everyone around--judges, competitors, parents, juniors. I want our club to be known for showing God's love. I want Stoa to be known for showing God's love.

Trophies are nice, and it feels good to have medals dangling around your neck. But don't let those things, or a NITOC qualifying checkmark become your goal.

Vote affirmative, but, more importantly, show love to others, and remember why we do this crazy thing called forensics.

(This post is part of a series called The Third Year Chronicles. Click here for TTYC #5.)

Ice Breakers - The Third Year Chronicles #5

(My words. Not her's. But she's pretty much the best.)

No, I'm not talking about those big ships that go up to the arctic and literally break ice. I'm talking about the little 'games' we play before the lectures and stuff start. My fabulous debate coach (the one so accurately depicted above) makes all her debaters give everyone else their name and a random fact about themselves. The goal is to get conversations started later after club when we socialize. Like, if someone tells you that the FBI knocked on their front door, later you can ask them why the stock issues they did that.

Whenever Mrs. H announces that we're doing this exercise, I instantly start raking through the last fifteen years of my life for something even remotely interesting to say, and I don't think 'I'm Conner's brother' is gonna cut it. 'I wrote the first draft of a novel this summer by hand,' seems like I'm bragging. 'I have the best debate coach, like, ever (thing Taylor Swift),' also seems like I'm bragging. (Even though both of these things are true.) What can I say that won't make them think I'm bragging?

Eventually, I decided to tell everyone that I have a speech and debate themed blog called Kitkats and Impromptu (then I ended it with a desperate plea for people to read it to boost my self confidence, so if you're reading this (which you are), thank you. Seriously. Thank you.)

I'm a third year. I shouldn't be afraid to stand up and say like, two things, right? I shouldn't get nervous and flushed whenever I think about having to talk to people, right? My stomach shouldn't get filled with butterflies, much less the feeling of humming birds flying about in there. I shouldn't start sweating bullets. I shouldn't panic internally about what I should say. Right?

Right???

Evidently, wrong.

Even as an experienced speaker, I still get nervous and scared before debate rounds, and speech rounds, and even when I get up just to say my name and a random fact. I wring my hands and pace outside rounds to hide my shaking. I fan myself with my trembling hands to keep from turning the color of a ripe tomato. Even in normal, everyday conversations, I fear that a misstep in my words will cause everyone to think that I'm an idiot. I fear that no one will hear what I have to say - or worse, that they won't care.

So yes, I've been doing speech and debate for two years. I've given countless speeches in front of countless people. I've read ballots that make my spirits soar and ones that crush my soul. I have a lot of friends (I'm not bragging. I just have a lot of friends). I have conversations with people. And I still get nervous.

But it's not about being nervous or being completely calm. It's about taking those nerves and pushing them aside. It's taking that fear and saying, 'Jesus has overcome the world and He will help me overcome you.' It's speaking through the shaking and through the crying and through the fear. Maybe I won't give the speech that wins NITOC this round. Maybe I'll bumble through a piece of evidence because I haven't read it before. Maybe I'll give a speech that moves judges to tears. Maybe I'll go down the flow in a way the judge will comprehend completely. But if I let fear stop me from doing something I love, none of these things will happen. I'll never qualify for NITOC. I'll never make friends. I'll never inspire judges.

I don't know how many years you've competed in speech and debate. I don't know what league you compete in. I don't know if you've ever competed at all. But there is something I want you to know: I'm a third year debater, and I'm still afraid of public speaking. I still get nervous. I often times fear what others think of me. But...

I still speak. I still write. I still make friends.

Vote affirmative, and don't let fear stop you.

(This post is part of a series called The Third Year Chronicles. Click here for TTYC #4.)

The First Club Meeting of the Year - The Third Year Chronicles #4

This afternoon we had the first club meeting of the year. We met in the sanctuary of the church where we meet for club and our various coaches went over the club's basic information and guidelines. And, being perfectly honest, I knew pretty much knew all the stuff already. But I didn't care. I sat there, listening to the words being spoken, because after the coaches were done and everyone had turned in their registration forms, I knew that I would finally get to talk to my friends.

Summer is great and all. There are popsicles and swim parties and long, boring days spent wishing the debate season would start. That last one isn't so great, but it is true. I spent a lot of time waiting for club to restart and now it's finally here.

I was a few minutes late to club today, so pretty much everyone was already there when I arrived. But I couldn't really talk to anyone because the meeting had already started. So I sat down in the back (and I like, never sit in the back. I don't like being late.) and waited for the socialization to start.

And start it did. There were people. Like, everywhere. My heart jumped into my throat (not literally. I'd be in serious trouble if my heart relocated to my throat). I restrained my excitement and tried not to run around hugging everyone in sight. It was a struggle, seeing as how I hadn't seen most of those people in over a month, which may not seem like that long, but since, aside from speech and debate camps, I had a people-deprived summer, I was ecstatic.

Thankfully, I managed to channel my excitement-charged energy into intelligible conversation. I communicated with my people (I call my friends my people. It's a term of endearment, I promise). I managed to say words with real syllables and real meanings rather than spewing gibberish at an excessive pace and a volume capable of bursting eardrums.

And so I socialized for the first time in forever. We didn't do any speech or debate work, but I saw people and I love people. I'm really tired now. I love people, and they energize me and they also drain me. But they are still awesome - especially my friends. I missed y'all, and I'm super excited that I get to see y'all once a week. (At least most of y'all. But I still love my non-IF friends. You're just as great as my IF friends. <3)

Vote affirmative, because you're awesome and club is back.

(This post is part of a series called The Third Year Chronicles. Click here for TTYC #3.)

In Season - The Third Year Chronicles #3

(Based off In Summer from Disney's Frozen.)

Sometimes I like to close my eyes and imagine what it'd be like when tournament season does start.

Speech written, LDers writing their values
And I'll be doing what TPers do in season
A case in my hand, a debate box and brand new Post-it notes
Probably getting gorgeous trophies in season

I'll finally watch a speech written to inspire the judges
And find out what happens to extempers in extemp prep

And I can't wait to see what the judges all think of me
Just imagine how great speeches will be in season

Speech and debate are both so intense,
put 'em together and do extemp

Summer's a good time to have camp and frisbee
But put me in season and I'll be a--HAPPY SPEECHER

When my friends are gone I like to hold on to my dream
Relaxing at tournament,
Just waiting for breaks

Oh the lunch will be cold
And my friends will be there too

When I finally do what TPers do in season

IN SEAAAAASOOOON

What TPers do in season

((This post is part of a series called The Third Year Chronicles. Click here for TTYC #2)

I'm Short

I draw myself as a stick figure. A lot. It's not because I'm insecure about my weight or anything. It's because I'm too lazy to draw more than lines and a circle with some hair on paint. It's impossible to make anything look good on there. If you've been reading this blog for awhile, or if you've stalked through my 59+ blog posts, you know that I draw stick figures a lot. Perhaps you've realized that the recurring stick figure with dark brown hair is me. Perhaps you've noticed that the stick figure depicting me with a huge amount of accuracy is almost always shorter than the other stick figures.

I never stand in the back row of group pictures (unless everyone else in the picture is younger than eleven). Dresses that would be too short reach acceptable length for modesty (this is a bonus). I have to stand on my toes and occasionally a chair to reach the top shelves of our cabinets. I get neck cramps from having to look up at people all the time. It's really hard to be intimidating when you're 5'1, but I make it work

I wonder how people see me sometimes. Do I stick out in a group? Do people notice my height (or lack thereof)? Do they realize that almost all my friends are multiple inches taller than me? Because I don't usually notice those things. I make fun of myself for being short, sure. I notice that it's awkward when people go down for a side hug instead of down. (Seriously people, just go up.)

I wonder if the judge notices I'm only 5'1 and think I'm a twelve-year-old.

I wonder if the fluffiness of my hair compensates for my lack of stature.

I stand really close to people to see if I'm taller than them. (The answer is no.)

I stand on my toes to see if I will be taller than them if I do as such. (The answer is still no.)

However...

I don't feel insulted when people call me short. It's merely the truth.

I am not insecure about my height. I actually like being short.

I do not have to worry about finding a husband who is taller than me. (Yeah, as it turns out, most guys are actually taller than 5'1.)

I don't wear heels to feel taller. That is just a bonus.

God designed me to be a short, fluffy haired, braces-needing, glasses-wearing, off-key singing, book writing, blogging, speeching, debating, and stick-figure drawing girl.

Vote affirmative, because you're short. Or at least I am. But we've clarified that already.

Pen Drills - The Third Year Chronicles #2

With little more than a week until speech and debate club starts off, competitors are in a rush to find cases, write speeches, and stop saying marine natural resource policies. Tournament Withdrawal is turning into Tournament Fever.

I wrote a speech a couple of weeks ago, and after I wrote it I let it sit on the back burner while I worked on my novel (as it would happen, the stove wasn't actually on and it got cold.). But the other day I figured that since club is less than two weeks away, I'd better get practicing.

I started off with some pen drills. You see, most people use pens for writing speeches and flowing debate rounds (or cards). But when practicing your speeches, they take on a new purpose: tongue twister drills.

After you say 'toy boat' so many times that it starts sounding like 'toe boyt', you take the saliva covered pen out of your mouth and do it again. (Same results, really.) And then you move on to the next tongue twister. And from a distance, the normal people of the world stare at you like you've lost your mind (mostly because you have).

I've tried to avoid the pen drills for the last couple of years. Because, well, I didn't want to look like an idiot. But once I started wearing full tournament attire just to practice my speech, I realized that I look like an idiot most times. Besides, pen drills save me from sounding like I have a pen in my mouth in actual rounds. How that works out, I'm not entirely certain.

Vote affirmative. And eat pens. (Wait, that's wrong...)

(This post is part of a series called The Third Year Chronicles. Click Here for TTYC #1)

The Colors of Interp

(To the tune of Colors of the Wind, from Disney's Pocahantas.)

You think I'm a ignorant speecher
And you've won so many outrounds, I guess it must be so.
But still I cannot see, if the speecher one is me
How can there be so much that you don't know?
You don't know.

You think you own whatever tourney you win
That patterns are just a dead things you can waste
But I know every interp, platform, IE
Has a round, has a pattern, has a name

You think the only speeches that are speeches
Are the speeches with three minute cross-ex
But if you read the script of a persuasive
You'll learn things you never knew you never knew

Have you ever seen a DI where they cry a lot
Or ask an HI giver why they grinned?
Can you speak with all the passion of a platform?
Can you act with all the colors of interp?
Can you act with all the colors of interp?

Come run the hidden hallways of a pattern
Come watch an HI done by your partner
Come cry and weep and wallow during DI's
And for once never warrant your interp

The duos and the apols are my events
The DI's and OO's are my favorites
Though TP and LD are both amazing
IE's rule over the awards ceremony

How long can an expos go?
If you never watch, then you'll never know
And you'll never see a DI where they cry a lot
For whether we interp or we debate
We need to speak with all the passion of a platform
We need to act with all the colors of interp

You can win a round and still, all you'll win is debate 'til
You can act with all the colors of interp.

This one goes out to all those debate-only people.

Being a Third Year - The Third Year Chronicles #1

(This is the first in a new series called the Third Year Chronicles, in which I document the coming year as I, a third year speecher/debater venture through it.)

Ah. Novices.

August.  The month where we can finally call the coming speech and debate season this year, and confidently refer to the previous season as last year.  The month of writing speeches 3-4 months in advance.  The month debate club starts up again.  The month in which we clear out our debate boxes and speech binders, the month we create new files on Dropbox for this year.

The month I realize that I'm a third year now.

At the beginning of my second year, I admittedly still felt like a novice.  The stock issues were foggy, I didn't get a TP partner until October, and I still had a hard time finding cards. This year is totally different.  I have a (more than slightly amazing) partner.  I know the stock issues better than the back of my hand (I mean seriously, who has memorized the back of their hand? Who has time for that?).  I wrote a whole speech before August 4th, something I only planned to do last year.

There shouldn't be this big of a difference between second years and third years, but there is.  I learned just as much my second year as I did my novice year.  I'll probably learn a lot this year too, but it won't be the same.

Weird parts of being a third year:

1.  I can't remember which speech/debate camp from whichever year is which speech/debate camp.  (As in, I get things that happened at 2013 debate camp and things that happened at 2012 speech camp mixed up.)
2. My debate coach doesn't put me in the same lecture room as novices and 2nd years.
3. I know and can explain what all the stock issues are. (Even inherency. Shocking, I know.)
4. I prefer certain flow pads over others. (Forget legal pads. Short ones are where it's at!)
5. I can find six pieces of evidence without crying.
6. I am well acquainted with the walls at certain tournament facilities.

Cool parts of being a third year:

1. I get to teach novices.
2. Novices will look up to me.
3. I get to mentor a novice.
4. I get to help turn novices into unstoppable forces of debater-ness. 
5. Basically, novices will love me.
6. I understand permutation and parametrics.

In conclusion, we have seen that being a third year in weird and cool and different.  Novices will love me, and maybe 2nd years will too.  (Wait, all the second years are already my friends.  So I guess novices loved me last year as well.)

It's for all these reasons I strongly urge an affirmative ballot at the end of today's debate round erm...  blog post.