Did you ever read that Sesame Street book with Grover begging the reader not to turn to the next page because there’s a monster at the end of the book? That’s kind of the deal with this article. I really want to tell you what your first tournament will be like, but it might be scary and there’s a monster at the end. So, perhaps you shouldn’t read any further. There are some other great articles on our blog. Maybe you can check out one of those instead.
You’re still reading aren’t you? You’re determined to know what you’re in for? Alright then, we’ll start with the first morning.
Unless you have the good fortune of a tournament in your hometown, you’ll wake up in a hotel room where your whole family has to share one bathroom to get ready in time to make it to the tournament by 7:15. You read that right! And, you can’t just stay in your jammies because there’s an honest-to-goodness, no-joke, written-down dress code that involves dress clothing. Guys will learn to tie a Windsor knot, and girls will get to wear dresses, slacks, and blouses while everyone pinches their toes into dress shoes. These are life skills, you’re told, and you’ll get to work on them before mom has enough coffee to feel up to cheering you on. (At least she can wear comfy shoes and clothes!)
Mom will follow the GPS through an unfamiliar town, and you’ll all know you’re in the right spot when you see a cluster of BIG family vans in the parking lot. Yay, Mom! It’s 7:10 when you start marching toward the ominous building.
Inside, some students are practically hovering with excitement while others look fully grounded and just as terrified as you feel. They will turn out to be your new friends by the end of the day. Moms and dads are standing along the walls with laptop bags and travel mugs, while a few volunteers (who woke up and dragged their kids out of bed even earlier than you) hand out name tags with shocking good cheer. If you’re a debater, they’ll also give you a full-sized piece of cardstock with your name printed in two directions, and you’ll take special note of the word negative on one side–yikes. Later you’ll find out it’s a debate tent and the opposing team in your first round will show you how to set it up like a pro, but you won’t feel like a pro, at least not yet.
At 7:30 the Tournament Director will call everyone to attention and introduce the devotion speaker. You can take solace in the fact that the dad who got volunteered to speak is probably just as nervous as you are because, by now, it has dawned on him that he’s about to address a room full of people who study, coach, and judge public speaking for a hobby. No pressure, right? When he finishes, the Tournament Director will be back to make some announcements and remind you about protocols which you’ve already learned because you diligently watched the Family Orientation Video. But the reminders are still good, and the longer she talks, the longer you have before things get really scary.
Are you ready to stop reading yet? I really think you should, because competition is about to start and the rest of this day is going to be a blur. And, there’s still a monster at the end of this article.
You’re still here. Okay, fine. No time to argue because it’s 8:00, and we gotta get this tournament rolling.
The moment announcements are over, a full-on commotion erupts in the room and dozens of kids crowd around a lady wearing a roll of blue painter’s tape like a bangle bracelet while she hangs pieces of paper on the wall. Others are checking their phones and then heading off down the halls like they know what to do. If you weren’t so stubbornly reading this article, you’d be feeling lost and eyeing the exit door, but since you’ve been this brave, I’ll explain what’s happening. Those pieces of paper on the wall are called “postings,” and they’re also available on everyone’s electronic devices. They tell all of the competitors which room they will be debating in, which team they will be facing, and whether they will be affirmative or negative in the round.
All of this means it’s time to head to your debate round. In case you’re the first one in the room, I’ll offer you this tip: if you’re affirmative, you’ll sit at the table on the judge’s left as they face you, and if you’re negative, you’ll sit at the table to the judge’s right. So at least you know where to sit. (You’re welcome.) As far as the rest of the round, I think the best way to understand what’s going to happen next is probably for you to watch the orientation video that new debate judges also watch to find out what they’re in for. There’s also a judge video for your style of debate (Lincoln-Douglas or Team Policy), and you should watch that too. About those judges: you should try to keep in mind that they really are nice people and some of them are just as nervous as you are.
Believe it or not, you’ll survive the debate round, even if you come out with your head spinning. You’ll hustle back to the hangout room only to find there’s no hug waiting from mom because she’s working on filling out a ballot for the round she just judged. As a dedicated parent, she’s doing her part to make things happen for the tournament, and she’s breaking through her own comfort zone right along with you. About the time mom finally reappears, that lady with the blue tape is also back, and she’s hanging a new set of papers on the wall.
That means, it’s about 10:00 am, and it’s time for the first speech round. If you’re registered for any of the speeches in this pattern, you’ll find your name on at least one of those pages along with your room number and time you’re scheduled to speak. You need to be present and ready when it’s your turn, but chances are you’ll have some time while you aren’t speaking during the round, and you can treat it like theater tickets. Go watch other competitors! You may have to step around some kids talking to walls, but you can walk into any competition room between speeches and quietly have a seat. You’ll need to stay put until the speech is over–no coming and going while a speaker is speaking–but otherwise, you can move about freely. This is where I should tell you that this is a great way to learn from more experienced competitors, but you’re already in the learning dunk tank, so I won’t harp on it.
At some point, it will be your turn to speak. You’ll walk into the assigned classroom and three judges will be waiting for you. They might even smile. You’ll tell them your name and get started. If you’re not sure about something, one of them will know how to help because they watched the judge orientation video and read the parent judge instructions. You may feel like a bug under a magnifying glass, but those adults are absolutely in your corner! They are sitting there because they are excited that you’re standing in front of them doing this big scary thing called public speaking, even if you’re shaking in your shoes.
Eventually, the speech round will end. Bravo! Give yourself a pat on the back! You did what you came to do. Now, you just have to make it through this cycle five more times over the next couple of days. Piece of cake. Speaking of cake…
Your stomach is hangry because you were too nervous to eat breakfast, and it’s screaming for food. Good thing the action will stop soon for lunch, right? Wrong! There are NO meal breaks in speech and debate tournaments. Yes, I’m serious, but I promise you won’t starve. There’s time to eat; it’s just not on the schedule. You’ll have to grab your calories between speaking times because that lady with the blue tape will be back every couple of hours until she has mercilessly posted the last debate round of the day—well after dinner time—which was also not on the schedule. This is why a team of volunteers works to coordinate a lineup of the most affordable meals they can find to be delivered right to the tournament for parents who want to push the easy button by ordering food in advance. Pay attention to the deadline because they run a tight ship and don’t order extras.
I wasn’t exaggerating about the rest of the day being a blur, and the next ones will be too. The rounds will keep happening, and before you know it competitors will be talking about breaking. Are you getting scared now? No need. Breaking doesn’t mean Digital Presentation competitors will be smashing their devices or that wheels will be ripped off of debate boxes. It means advancing from preliminary competition rounds into elimination rounds to compete for top placings. Good news for you though! You’ve already won by showing up at your first tournament–even if you don’t advance to elimination rounds in anything. You won’t get a participation trophy because that’s not how we roll, but we really are proud of you!
When it’s time for breaks to begin, you won’t miss it. You could power a small city with the nervous energy rolling off of the veteran competitors. They’ve drawn on levels of research and preparation you didn’t even know sane teenagers would consider doing, and they’ve done their best to compete with integrity and grace, but only some of them will make it into elimination rounds.
This is where the monster lurks!
You can stop reading here, and you won’t have to see it, yet!
But, of course, you’re still reading, so here’s the story of the monster.
Once upon a time, each of those experienced competitors was brand new, just like you. Somewhere along the line, they got bit by what looked like an innocent little speech and debate bug, probably at one of their first tournaments. That bite made them serious about learning skills that will last them a lifetime–yes, yes, of course–but for the meantime they are focused on competition. They want to compete with excellence, and they want to win!
The little speech and debate bug has grown into a pet monster, and their job is to humbly and prayerfully train that competition monster to behave like a friendly companion and not like a scary hobgoblin. When the monster is disappointed, it may want to kick, stomp, pout, gripe, gloat, taunt, and even quit–and it will try all of the above–but it needs to be trained in the nurture and admonition of the Lord, just like all other forms of childishness.
On the last page of The Monster at the End of this Book, Grover finds out he is the monster (so sorry if I just spoiled this page-turner for you). Similarly, one of the best lessons we can take away from competition is learning how to look the inner competition monster in the face and remind it of who’s in charge. All of us, even moms and dads, need to look in the bathroom mirror at each tournament and confront the competition monster with the reason and grace of the Word of God which repeatedly tells us to humble ourselves and to love and encourage one another in all circumstances.
Conveniently, everyone has a designated opportunity to flex their encouragement muscles one last time before heading home. After the last elimination round, we all gather for the Award Ceremony. It may be late at night, but please, don’t skip out even if you’re feeling overwhelmed! Being there will erase at least three hours from your level of exhaustion; I promise. It won’t be long, stuffy, or boring. Award ceremonies in NCFCA are fast-paced, exuberant celebrations of the way that iron sharpens iron. The outpouring of genuine excitement, enthusiasm, and encouragement that flows between students after three days of fierce competition against one another is a marvel of Christian community that you just shouldn’t miss. But, watch out! Speech and debate bugs will be hiding under every seat, and they’ll bite while you’re focused on mastering our famous forensics CLAP!
May the God of endurance and encouragement grant you to live in such harmony with one another, in accord with Christ Jesus, that together you may with one voice glorify the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ. Romans 15:5-6 (ESV)
Cheering you on in the love of Christ and His great gift of communication—with one big, heartfelt CLAP!
Lisa Schumacher is the NCFCA Director of Communications and Marketing. Her family has been involved with NCFCA since 2013.
