Team Policy

12th – Upham/Upham

Lincoln Douglas

6th – Jonathan M
9th speaker – William U
7th speaker – David H
5th speaker – Jonathan M

Apologetics

SF – David H
8th – William U
2nd – Jonathan M

Open Interp

6th – Katie M

Impromptu

6th – William U
4th – Jonathan M

Humorous Interp

6th – Timothy B
2nd – Katie M

Biographical Narative

SF – Joy H

Duo Interp

2nd – Umstattd/Umstattd

Persuasive

SF – Katie M

SF – Tiffany B

Illustrative Oratory

4th – Tiffany B

Extemporaneous

SF – William U
1st – Jonathan M !!! 

Sweepstakes

10th – William U
9th – Katie M
4th – Jonathan M

Let me know if I missed something.

At the camp I taught three classes: on evidence, the constitution, and counterplans. Here are the slides (powered by Prezi) for my class “Why Quoting an Expert Isn’t Evidence: Using Science and Stories”:

Teaching highlights

It’s important to know how to prove something for yourself. You shouldn’t be dependent on quoting a bunch of other people and let them do the thinking for you. This class was designed to answer a basic question of: “how do you prove something to a judge?”

• Don’t say “I have a piece of evidence.” This phrase means nothing to a new judge and is code for “now it’s time to doze off” to an experience judge.
• Use more interesting descriptive words like quote, study, example, story, investigation, etc.
• Believe it or not, there is a template for good stories. There are three common categories for good stories: Challenge, Connection, and Creativity plots. All of these formats work by giving something unexpected; the way they are unexpected is what distinguishes them from each other.
• Good story writing isn’t as creative as you might think. The template for the plot of a good story is pretty standard: introduction, rising action, climax, falling action, and resolution. “Who, what, where, when, and why” is a really boring format. Use it to only check a story once you’ve created it using the 5-step Freytag’s plot.
• Science is both a process and a way of thinking. Science is not ruled by scientists; it is ruled by the scientific method. The mark of a good scientist is not having all the answers but actually knowing the limits of the conclusions.
• The development life cycle (the process): is the engineer’s version of the scientific method. Before a product is ready for production (or use as a case), it goes through several steps: analysis, design, implementation, testing, and evaluation. Notice that implementation comes before testing. A debater that has an expert who says “technology A is ready for implementation” doesn’t mean that it’s error-free or ready for the market. It often means that it has not been tested yet. It’s still in “beta.” (Example: Smell-o-vision in the 60s. Believe it or not, they made a Smell-o-vision movie.)
• Error margins (the way of thinking): mathematical ways to show how uncertain a result is. The easiest way to look at them is in the polls, but they also represent a greater idea: it’s important to not just know an expert’s opinion, but to also have some idea how sure they are of that opinion. So ask the other team for an error margin: how sure are the conclusions? They can’t be 100% sure of anything, can they?
• Best example to take away from this talk: is the before and after Debate Story. In this example, I took a seemingly boring quote on “foreign aid frangibility in India” and turning it into a creativity plot that could actually hold someone’s attention. Combining science and stories is a potent combination and can turn an article into evidence for your judge.

Credits

Big thanks to PHD Comics and xkcd for providing some spice to this teaching. (and some insight, too) Also thanks to Bible Art and stock.xchng for helping me find some great clip art.

Let me know what you thought about the camp or about this material in the comments below. Got a good example of a boring scientific paper that become an exciting story? Let me know.

Calling All NCFCA Debaters! You have one more week to register for the most intensive two days of debate training to hit Austin! Meet the Advanced Debate Camp. Coming to Austin, Tx August 19-20.

Daniel Gaskell, Alex MacDonald, Thomas Umstattd, Shaney Irene, yours truly, and many other names you might recognize will be lending their expertise. You are going to learn a lot from these experienced instructors; they are some of the best NCFCA alumni and coaches.

But this is a camp; not one long lecture. The whole philosophy behind the Advanced Debate Camp is to 1: learn from experience (teachers) and 2: learn by experience. That means you’re going to grow through hands-on practice and coaching. In fact, one of the goals of this workshop is to put together a student-created sourcebook. Cool, hu?

Interested? Go ahead and register today. This is literally the best debate camp you’ll find for the price.

What is there to say? It’s difficult to really sum up the past three years I’ve spent in the NCFCA. (Well, the first year is easy to sum up: tears and agony. The end.) God has used a seemingly simple extracurricular activity to change me radically—to shape me into the person I will be for the rest of my life.

Ironically, I don’t think most of that radical change came through learning how to speak. Sure, cultivating my ability to command the platform has boosted my confidence and allowed me to share important messages and think through deep issues. But most of my training in communication happened on a much more personal level—and I have a feeling that that’s what will stick with me.

NCFCA was long car trips poring over unmemorized scripts and unread evidence.

NCFCA was ice cream socials on Thursday nights, running around the auditorium to find the friends you hadn’t seen in weeks.

NCFCA was waking up at terrible hours of the morning and putting on a suit.

NCFCA was getting together as a club every day, cheering each other on.

NCFCA was Mountain Dew, Starbucks frappuccinos, and Jamba Juice.

NCFCA was walking into that first Apologetics round and drawing the topic for which God had already given you words.

NCFCA was high heels and blisters.

NCFCA was whispering in the hall–but not really.

NCFCA was being asked, “Can I pray with you before your round?”

NCFCA was walking across the gym floor to accept a shiny trophy.

NCFCA was setting that same shiny trophy on a shelf back home, where no one really sees it.

NCFCA was awkward moments in Original Oratory, but beautiful ballots expressing thanks for speaking the truth.

NCFCA was that second of sheer insanity when you register for an unwritten speech.

NCFCA was watching outrounds with friends–”flowing” more than just the debate round.

NCFCA was coming out of a competition room and crying.

NCFCA was stressful days before the tournament, hastily constructing boards for Illustrated Oratory.

NCFCA was ballots parties late Saturday night, when everyone’s a little crazy from exhaustion but wonderfully happy in spite of it.

NCFCA was bittersweet break announcements.

NCFCA was lessons about pride and humility.

NCFCA was talking, laughing, smiling.

NCFCA was people.

People. They are incredible. Used as vessels of God’s perfect plan, they are truly awesome.

That’s what I got out of NCFCA.

And that’s what I’ll miss.

More pictures would probably be here…except I’m tired. Sorry. But with this fancy new Mac of mine, I’m having huge amounts of fun playing around with iMovie…so y’all can probably expect a wonderfully long video blog at the end of this trip. (Good enough?)

Who tips $6.85? Would it hurt that much to round it to $7.00? Just a thought. Not that I’m [really] complaining…

It’s been a whole lot of days since I posted on this blog. (I had something a whole lot deeper planned…but I decided to let it marinate in my mind just a little longer.) {Marinate. Yes.}

Boston is incredible, and I can’t wait to go there next month!

Speech and debate wears me out. Period. As much as I enjoy all this, there’s something in me that’s beginning to feel a bit restless.

Those adorable little foster kiddos I’ve mentioned for the past year? They’re becoming Maisanos. Or, as Hayden informs my mother, “YOUR-sanos!”

I did an [almost] 360 on a wet road two weeks ago. Thanks, God, for small towns with no traffic (either to come in contact with my car…or to see me freak out afterwards.)

Hayden came into my bedroom yesterday and said [and I quote]: “Oh, Beth! This is beautiful!” …he apparently liked my shirt. I appreciate three-year-old compliments.

It’s been too long since I’ve been able to go riding.

My bestest friend, the amazing Hopie, placed 7th in Team Policy at her Regional Championship. I’m kinda proud of her. (Actually…she got me into speech and debate.)

College is in three and a half months! I’m scared of this whole “pot-luck roommate” thing…but excited too. However that works.

Some days…I really want to write again. This summer, maybe? Yes? Hopefully?

Okay. I’m not one to ramble on here, but hey, I had to do something to fill y’all in on the past month and a half. Don’t complain.

[And don't worry...I'm stopping now.]

Resolved: A government’s legitimacy is determined more by its respect for popular sovereignty than individual rights.

Legitimacy

…is usually defined as “conforming to high standards”, “meeting the original purpose”, “widely accepted”, or sometimes simply “good.” The problem is how do any of these allow you to clearly distinguish legitimate from illegitimate governments?

So, I was thinking about this road block and trying to find a detour in the resolution. I was walking to the fridge when the most random insight hit me. There’s a loophole! One specific word in the resolution…

MORE

I asked a simple question: is it possible to answer “is ___ more important?” without answering “what is ____?” I came up with yes. Here’s the skinny:

Something is more important that something else if it doesn’t have a substitute.

Imagine you’re baking a cake (not something I do often…) and now imagine you’re an LDer or a philosophy major and you’re into answering useless questions (like this year’s resolution). The question is: what ingredient is MORE important to the cake?

In this scenario, we have the same problem: what do you mean by “important?” All the ingredients are important! But the one that you need least is the one that you could substitute. You don’t desperately need to get a carton of milk if you have powdered milk in the fridge. Simply put, the irreplaceable ingredient is the most important not matter what idea of “importance” you’re using!

Excited? Because I was pretty excited about this. Ok, now back to how it relates to LD…

Does popular sovereignty have an alternative?

I think that you could easily say “no” (as affirmative) by arguing the word “respect.” There’s no way to respect the “will of the people” without respecting it!

Application: before the American revolution, the English elites had the idea in their head of “virtual representation.” Namely, even though we didn’t get a voice our taxes, the mother country understood the colonists and had their best interests in mind. That seems pretty stupid, doesn’t it? Needless to say, we had a revolution over it and rejected England’s legitimacy over us.

On the other hand, the British did it right in other cases. Entirely without democratic elections, the empire created rules in Hong Kong that made it one of the most prosperous and least corrupt cities in the world. So, by pointing out the complexities of the “people’s will” (there’s more than just one), you could easily argue (as Negative) that there are ways to do what’s best for people (and what they arguable will want) without caring about popular sovereignty.

Is there an alternative to individual rights?

Yes. If you haven’t yet, every LDer needs to read Frederick Bastiat’s The Law. His idea is that if Individual Rights are the point of government, then people will gradually demand more and more rights until they start taking rights from others.

That’s why he believes in negative law. Instead of saying “you have a right to life”; the law says “you don’t have a right to murder.”[*] Debaters facing this idea on negative might say: a little nit-picky?

Perhaps. There’s some room for interpretation. Can denying someone rights be “respect for individual rights”? Does “respect” carry over the “and”? There’s some room either way. But there will still be clash! That’s what makes debate fun.

So, the whole concept of this post is that you can answer the resolution by talking about more determined and not legitimacy. Hope some of you take this idea and run with it. If you figure out how to do something with this concept, let me know in the comments. I’d love to see this idea actually become something. It might make a good affirmative (or maybe a negative…) case.

[*] Alexander Hamilton argued the same thing in the Federalist 84: “I go further, and affirm that bills of rights… are not only unnecessary in the proposed constitution, but would even be dangerous. …Why for instance, should it be said, that the liberty of the press shall not be restrained, when no power is given by which restrictions may be imposed?”

Don't like boring speeches? (Courtesy of Shilly Shallys World on Flickr, CC BY-NC-ND 2.0)

Don’t give the punch line away

Your introduction is important. The first 30 seconds is when the audience decides whether to listen or tune you out. If they already know everything you’re saying, they’ll stop listening. If you reveal everything you’re going to say… well, would you listen for ten minutes when you already know everything in the first minutes?

Your speech is not a book. You don’t need a table of contents. Think of it this way: when was the last time you were deciding whether to read a book from the table of contents? Seriously; your introduction should look like the back cover of a book; not the table on page xii.

Don’t bury the lead

Anyone who knows anything about journalism knows this is key. Don’t bury your lead. Taking too long to get to the meat of the argument also puts your audience to sleep.

The trick is to give your audience just enough to want more. Use a good murder mystery as your guide. Good authors always give you just enough to ask questions (“whose the killer?” “who is going to find him?” “is the victim telling the truth?”) but not enough to guess the end. Sometimes it’s even useful to mislead the audience in order to bring to light and shatter some misconception they may have.

Make your audience ask questions - like it's a mystery. (Image from Gregory Wake - used under CC BY-NC-SA 2.0)

“Say what you’re going to say, say it, and then say what you said.”

Probably the worst advice for a speech you want people to listen to. Definitely the most boring.

Still, can’t really blame those who give this advice. I mean, repetition is good. It’s the root of learning. Instead of saying the same thing over and over and over, come up with different example, application, and phraseologies. Keep hammering the same point, just use a different hammer. Say it a different way each time. (get my point?)

Don’t…

just take it from me. Go read Beth’s the three points of death.

This is a big ‘ol list of “don’ts.” To hear about the “dos” of making ideas interesting, my recommendation is Made To Stick by the Heath brothers.

The first step is deciding on your topic, of course. After a long process of internal debate and external agony, you settle on something particularly meaningful and sit down to write.

Then you stop yourself.

Wait! you think. I can’t start writing yet, or I’d be violating The One And Only Rule Of Platform Speeches! How can I possibly write a speech without three points?

Let’s be very clear here:

Having three points means nothing.

Where did this ubiquitous trio come from, anyway?

The talk goes like this:

“If you want to write a speech, you must have organization. One great way to organize your thoughts is to split the idea into three points, grouping your sub-points underneath. This way, you’ll have direction when you write, and your audience will understand where you’re going. Start out by telling them your three points; give the three points; and then recap the three points.”

Meh.

It’s true that having three points brings organization to the chaotic thing they call an “idea.” The problem is that sometimes, using three points to organize your speech is detrimental to the idea you’re trying to present. No two speeches are the same, and so trying to apply the three-point structure across the board is bound to result in horrors of some sort.

Take, for example, an informational speech on heroes. You decide to talk about three heroes of yours, and why their lives are meaningful. This works.

On the other hand, you might decide to take things from a different angle. You’d rather address a problem in society, pointing out that true heroism is declining due to a disregard for moral standards. How would you structure your three points?

If you think about it, this topic doesn’t fit quite so nicely into those [despicable] three points of yours. Why? Because you’re trying to get the listener to arrive at a conclusion–not necessarily informing them of one straight up. It’s a logical progression, not a statement of information.

Three points provide structure–but they miss out on a few other important factors.

What the three points lose:

1. Suspense

“Today, we’ll be looking at three points: what heroism is, how it has declined in recent years, and how our lack of moral standards is at the root of this problem.” Great! Now that I know the entire contents of your speech…can I go home?

In a ten minute speech, you have an incredible opportunity: you can put a listener to sleep, or give them something that catches their attention. Suspense is one way to capture and hold their interest–and you simply can’t do it as effectively if you lay out your three points from the very beginning.

2. Progression

Having three points lends itself well to purely informational topics–but not so well to a topic that requires a progression of ideas. In other words, the three point system might work great when classifying or dividing, but lacks much power when you need to “build up” your idea.

This goes hand in hand with the suspense factor: taking away the logical progression of your idea takes away the suspense you can create along the way. Result? Sleeping listeners.

3. Uniqueness

Okay, let’s face it. Everyone has three points.

Do you want to be like everyone else? Answer: no. Solution: don’t have three points.

Suspense. Literally.

SO I CAN NEVER USE THREE POINTS AGAIN???

No! You can use three points if you want to be a) boring, b) non-unique, or c) a spineless wimp who melts under peer pressure.

Um…I’m actually totally kidding.

If three points work best for your topic, go for it. All I would point out is that usually, three points will not be as effective as other means. Evaluate your subject carefully to make sure you’re not missing out on any opportunities to build suspense, allow for progression, or create uniqueness. (Also: for those who insist on sticking with your three points, do the world a favor and never reference these as “points” in your speech. Call them “reasons” or “ideas” or “fire-breathing dragons.” But not points. Thank you.)

What, then, shall we do? WE HAVE NOTHING IF NOT OUR THREE POINTS!

Back up, please. What is the purpose of our precious three points? Structure.

Believe it or not, structure exists outside of three points.

For those of your with speeches heavily oriented around a logical progression of ideas…believe it or not, this, in and of itself, forms a structure. Your audience isn’t inept; they’ll understand a well-reasoned flow of thoughts. Make use of that. Ditch the three points, and build your suspense instead. Chances are, your listeners won’t even notice the lack of a traditional “structure.”

The fact of the matter: a good speech will have structure, but not necessarily three points.

Now go. Kill those ridiculous triads. Be free.