Inspired by the Nashville Forensics Tournament.
I've been judging for the past few days. I've mostly done Lincoln-Douglas debate judging, but I've had some poetry and one informative speech break from the grind. I've spotted myriad pervasive problems in presentation, but they all come down to one umbrella problem: lack of audience awareness.
Of course, we teach audience awareness to everybody. Or do we? I admit to skimming over it from time to time because it's...common sense. Isn't it? I mean, when you're talking to your mother, you use different words and gestures and facial expressions and references and even different sentence structure than you would when you speak with your friends. Or your commander. Your brother. Your professor. A little kid on the street. Your priest. And so on. Obvious, right? Know who you're talking to, and alter your presentation accordingly. How much emphasis do we really need on this point?
A LOT. That's how much.
This year, I took the time to educate myself about Lincoln-Douglas (LD) before the tournament. (Had I known what a highly-structured, rules-laden activity it was before, I'd have done this last year. However, I was reassured my purpose at the tournament was to be an "uninformed" judge, to teach the students to communicate their ideas to anyone, so I didn't, and I was lost the whole time.) There are a couple of theories regarding the goals of LD debating: it's a game OR it's a learning activity. Those who train to play the game (like college basketball, really) learn the rules and seek to win with judges who have also played the game and understand the rules. These are the students who use a plethora of debate argot throughout their presentations and talk so fast that they must audibly gasp for air from time to time, not unlike my eighth grade history teacher (we'd get winded just listening to her lecture; she'd talk until not a drop of oxygen remained in her lungs, frequently to a random word in a sentence--not a natural stopping place--then she'd audibly draw breath and continue). Such students (I know now) expect judges to determine the win by the rules. That is, I was supposed to know that if the negative effectively through doubt upon the relevance (called "topicality") of the affirmative's proposed plan, then I must rule for the negative. Stuff like that.
Nobody told me anything. I could rule by who was wearing the nicer suit if I felt like it. Now I know better. When I rule in favor of the guy with the nicer suit, I have to throw in some debate-related "reason" for why that guy won.
I've learned to announce to the debaters--and I began doing this last year, with limited effect--that I'm a lay judge and need to be reminded what the argot means if they're going to use it. Also, as an English teacher, I place importance upon presentation and audience awareness. They're trying to convince me they're right as opposed to winning by strategy.
Let me explain. The affirmative presents his plan in the opening 6 minutes. The whole plan is carefully composed, worded, researched, organized and practiced. Winning by strategy involves what I call the Blizzard Approach. In that opening 6 minutes, the affirmative spews forth his case and all his arguments as quickly as he can in the hopes that his opponent won't be able to take notes (called "flow") of all his arguments, miss one or two important ones and therefore fail to respond, so the affirmative can claim his opponent's failure to respond means I must vote for the affirmative. Technically, he's right.
I'm of the opinion that if the position is researched as it should be and is, in fact, a good plan, the aff will win on the strength of his plan--not on a technicality. My approach does away with rapid fire delivery. I've come to interpret opening rapid fire delivery as a sign of the aff's lack of confidence in his position, as a matter of fact. Plus, it just irritates me, which is a bad first impression to make on your judge.
Every round I've judged this tournament, the students have asked my background and preferences, which is good. But they also frequently ignored my response. Their failure to be and remain aware of their audience often cost them the round--not because I was punishing them for forgetting to talk like a normal person, but because I couldn't understand them.
If I can't understand your arguments, you can't win. Stop me if I lost you anywhere.
One contestant I judged yesterday had a cleft palate and a bit of a lisp. I was mesmerized by the way his lower lip worked overtime in an effort to enunciate. But after asking me what I wanted, he proceeded to rapid fire. It was unintelligible. I stopped him and said, "Are you speaking English?" It sounded almost German, I swear. He got the hint and slowed down for about 20 seconds, then promptly forgot again. I didn't interrupt him again. I let him waste his breath.
Their coaches are teaching them to deliver like that. Why?
Here's another habit that's pounded into them which I abhor: When they are certain they've trounced their opponent on any given required point in the debate, they'll say, "So you have to vote affirmative/negative" or some variation thereof.
I what? I HAVE to? I don't think so.
I've graded a couple of interpretation of poetry rounds, too. Again, we frequently have a "lack of audience awareness" problem, resulting in lots of poetry about detailed sex acts, lots of poetry with excessive vulgarity, and an inexplicable predisposition for shouting at some point in the presentation, none of which strikes me as particularly...poetic. But maybe I'm just old.
That's my point, actually. Audience awareness, remember? Do they really think their judges will be as enamored with hearing a teen recite poetry about sex (ew!)--usually excessively detailed with lots of anatomical words I've never considered particularly poetic--excessive cursing, and being YELLED AT? (They seem to think screaming is de rigeur for "drama"; I hope someone tells them more human emotions which are more interesting and enjoyable to watch are available. They're like 4-year-olds who think happy, sad, angry and tired are the only emotions we have; they stand in front of us, say something resembling poetry, and point to the angry face.)
I saw another presentation last night--a duo drama interpretation--which was cram packed with jokes aimed specifically at other literature interpreters (I know, because all their peers were laughing at the presentation, but not the judges), and references to popular culture which, needless to say, went over my head with ease.
Audience awareness. It isn't just for freshman composition anymore.
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