The Last Harvard: Oratory Final

So I said I’d post about the extemp final, but that’s been taking work and source-checks and the like, so it’s slow going.   Also, I’m sick; I have this cold thing happening, which knocked me into bed all day yesterday.   Today, not much better.   It’s a strange cold; the congestion and coughing are present but not awful; the sore throat was minor and short-lived; however that sick feeling of sleepy, woozy delirium has just as soundly debilitated me.

Instead, check out the NCFL Extemp Topic Areas , which I can honestly say I’m thrilled about.   These are not the topic areas I suggested, but the council definitely took the spirit of what I had to say to heart, if not the letter.   I don’t know if this was done because of, or despite, my intolerable nagging, but at any rate, it’s an excellent step in the right direction and I’m very very happy.

So the extemp final notes require research and checking; the oratory final round notes, however, merely requires ranting and pontificating; and as Menick proves daily , that requires much less brainpower.

I walked into the Oratory final a few minutes after having been asked to judge it, saying “OK, here we go.”   The first thing to note about the oratory final is they put it in a room which was twice the size of the extemp final room, but it contained only about 2/3rds as many people.   I’m unsure if this diminished crowd size because it was competing against interp finals happening over in Sanders Theater, or if   the event itself simply doesn’t draw as much anymore.   It has been about 4 years since I’ve even seen an Oratory final at Harvard, so trends may have passed me by.

This round was also my chance to try writing Speech RFDs for the first time.   I’ve had this idea for exactly a year, after Policy Mike gave it to me, but this was a good venue to try it out, as I haven’t actually judged a speech round in the intervening time.   The idea is that most judges in speech use the ballot for coaching advice, whether or not they’re qualified to offer it.   Instead, an RFD encourages you to think and write as a judge should, and explain why you gave the rank you gave.   So, at the bottom of each ballot, I wrote out my reasoning. “You were 2nd because the 1st place person did this part better, and your blah wasn’t as developed…..”   “You were 6th because everyone else did this thing better….”   etc etc.   I feel this approach is much more direct, maybe even harsh — but helpful in the extreme, as it prioritizes the feedback and tells the kids what mattered most to your ranking.   Debaters get this kind of direct feedback all the time; speechies can handle it.   And, I have to say, writing the RFDs came very easily, and helped clarify for me why I’d ranked the round the way I had; having to write out your reasoning may well improve the experience, and quality, of the judging itself.

As for the round, we had the usual pop-philosophy smorgasbord.   The first thing that always annoys the hell out of me in Oratory is the vapidity of most of the topics; and the second is how the conventions of oratory mean the kids claim that their stated topic problem is wholly universal.   The orator does not claim that a majority of people feel a certain way, or that even a too-large minority engage in a particular harmful behavior.   No, “we all” are part of the problem.   “We” don’t seize every moment, “we” care too much what others think of us.   It’s a gimmick to draw the speaker closer to the audience, but given that the speakers are 17 year old nitwit extroverts and I’m a quiet solitary type who’s nearly twice their age, it usually serves to make many of their statements into lies.

To wit: the first speaker told me I splash too much personal information up on the internet; the second told me that I hold in my emotions too much and don’t express my feelings, the third complained about something I can’t even recall.   The fourth said I obsess too much about leaving a legacy, the fifth claimed that violent video games desensitize us to violence. The sixth speaker managed to avoid the trap for the most part and instead talked about how our society is hesitant to talk maturely about sex, so bravo to her.   By far the worst was the 2nd speaker’s emotion-hiding thesis; at one point she asked rhetorically “when is the last time you talked about emotional issues with your best friend?”   To which I mentally replied “Uh, last Thursday?”   I doubt that was the answer she wanted to inspire.   It killed the speech for me.

So a typical oratory will fling a preponderance of claims around, which are meant to relate to the audience, to inspire us, and hit at our emotions — but without benefit of substance, facts and research.   After very little time, I just stop caring.   I’m not alone, unfortunately; we’ve had a hard time getting kids to compete in oratory on our team, since they don’t want to sit through all the dreck that the event attracts.   It’s a shame, really; the event has infinite potential — write anything you want about anything you want!   The kids are limited by nothing but their own imagination.   And yet, all we get are these boring set pieces about problems that at best fail to look at all beyond the typical upper-class teenager’s life.

Teenagers want to think they’re highly individualistic, but they’re really very conservative and herd-like.   The trends in new progressive LD debate happened because college students inspired them; high schoolers just followed the judges, not wanting to break with the general flow.   Extempers will resist trying out techniques they agree are rational and logical because they’re afraid of what other extempers will say about them.   Usually they’ll say “I don’t think The Judges will go for it” but they actually are thinking about their peers; there is hardly a uniform group of Judges out there who think very strongly about their expectations in extemp to the point that they’d vote down kids for doing logical things that were nonetheless outside the Conventions of the Event.   Most judges don’t know enough, or care enough, about the event.

Therefore, I bet orators are afraid to put too much seriousness and research into a speech, simply because no one else does it, and if there’s anything a teenager doesn’t want to be, it’s the only person doing something.   If you’re the only person doing something, you’re a failure in the adolescent worldview; after all, if a practice was a good idea, others would be doing it too, right?   The herd instinct is why, in extemp, so many kids mimic the bad habits of good competitors.   They don’t think first about the relative value of the habits; they simply see a rock star displaying the habit and getting applause, and aim to mimic it.   So thus, in Oratory, we get round upon round of bland, boring speeches that nobody cares about and nobody wants to watch.   And there I was, ranking the best of them.   Writing an oratory on a serious social issue talking in terms of social forces would be so far beyond the pale, the average 17 year old wouldn’t know where to begin.   Anyone who did so would have easily gained my 1 in any round.   Oratory as an event is in a holding pattern, waiting for the first bold soul to actually make that leap; until then, I’ll continue to avoid it.

As for the round, they all spoke very well, and were very smooth.   Some of them were a little too forced, and others spoke more naturally and sincerely, but in general, I was left to rate them purely on where I felt they landed on the seriousness scale.   I took points off for the rhetorical assumption that “we all do this bad thing” and gave credit for risks, since that correlated exactly with how interested in the speeches I found myself, and how much I believed the speaker.   Strangely enough, even though I didn’t think this standard would be a universal one, my ballot ended up calling the final round results.   My ranks & the results:

6th place:   Girl talking about holding in our emotions.   Delivery was the most forced, and the topic both the most hand wavy and unresearched, and the most not true to my experience; there are a heck of a lot of people out there who won’t shut up about their emotions if you give them a chance to start.

5th place:   The girl from Desert Vista, AZ.   I remember she too was a little forced in her delivery.   I also have suddenly no idea what she talked about.   Zero.   I remember it being one of those interpersonal topics without much wider social impact, but it wasn’t untrue the way 6th place was, so that’s what got her 6th.   But, man, what an indictment; I have no clue what her topic was.

4th place:   Take it Personally.   This speaker talked about internet privacy.   You know, there was real potential here to talk about the widespread nature of a problem I’m well familiar with in my daily work and life, but really it just ended up being an anecdote fest about morons writing stupid things on the internet, like “we all” do.   I generally follow the rule that I’d never post anything on the internet I wouldn’t want my grandmother to read.   This standard does give me a lot of leeway, given that my grandmother is chews nails & spits out tacks, and can swear well enough to make a Marine blush.   However, that’s the rule, and I stick by it.   I gave her 4th because her topic and speech at least stabbed in the direction of something with more lasting impact than 6th or 5th place did.

3rd place: Boy talking about leaving a legacy. This speech actually intrigued me a lot, since what the kid was really talking about was not so much leaving a legacy and stressing out about it, but actually the fear of death.   Talk about your primal emotions.   I gave him 3rd because it was deeper than anything else in the round by far, as such, but I didn’t credit him too much because he didn’t address it directly — in fact, I think he was probably afraid to take that much of a risk.   So I wanted to like this speech a lot, but ended up not liking it as much.   If he had taken the topic on squarely, he’d probably have gotten my 1.

2nd place: Sensitizing.   Boy, from Loyola Blakefield, talking about video games and entertainment violence and its effects on real life violence.   I have to say, as someone who’s read into this topic a fair amount, I simply don’t buy that there’s a psychological link between playing grisly video games or watching violent movies and being more able to perpetrate such acts oneself; the worst thing violent media images does in my opinion is give ideas on how to execute violent acts to already-disturbed individuals.   However, I didn’t mark him 2nd because I disagreed with his thesis; he was 2nd because he had a thesis that went beyond the trials and tribulations of a high schooler, and talked about a social problem as a whole.   He took 2nd to the champion in my book because he didn’t really prove his case; he relied on too many anecdotes, not enough proof and research; but at least he did tackle something Real.

1st place:   Sex talk.   A bold choice for a topic, right off the bat.   She talked about how repression of honest, mature sexual communication — not media sex images, but actual adult-style talk — leads directly to social ills of unwanted pregnancies, bad hangups about sex among adults, and broken families.   Heady stuff indeed; she linked to the problem, talked about something that mattered, and most of all managed to get through an entire speech about sex without any resort to sophomoric humor.   I do think she fell a bit flat in talking about the causes; if she’d been really bold she would have mentioned that the root cause is clearly religion’s influence in the public sphere.   However, she still had the most serious topic — and most serious approach to it.   She was my clear 1.

Now what’s funny about it, is she just barely made it through at every stage of the game; she went a mediocre 3 3 1 3 in prelims, and then   2 4 1 in octos,   3 1 4 in quarters,   6 2 1   in semis.   In finals she was 5 3 1 1 2.   So at every stage people saw this content and the strong stand she took on a controversy, and said “No thanks”.   Hrmph.     I hate people sometimes.

Tomorrow, you’ll have either my completed post on Extemp finals, or my pontification on the PFD final.

The Last Harvard: Monday

Monday at Harvard is a bit of an edgy letdown; when your success conspires against itself.   If I don’t show up on Monday, that means no semifinalists in speech, and no doubles or beyond in debate, which counts as a mildly crappy tournament.   If you do have team members in these rounds, then you have to show up on Monday.   Which is crappy since I’ve by now spend enough damn time cold & tired around campus, and I have to work on Tuesday, and my bed is just oh so comfortable and only a few scant miles away.

They changed up the scheduling this year, moving the interp finals into the capacious Sanders Theater, and in theory making it possible to see most of the finals, with a staggered schedule.   Extemp was finally, after too many freakin years, moved out of the cramped confines of Science Center E to the twice-as-large (and still full!) Science Center D.   In return for this largesse, however, it was first thing in the morning.   I was suspicious about this before, but given that Alex T was wound up tighter and more nervous than ever I’ve seen him — including before last year’s Harvard final, when I think he was just happy to have made it — I can’t say as I’m too upset having gotten it over with early.

After having heard of some questionable uses of evidence out of the quarterfinals, I decided to take extensive notes as to the sources used in the finals, and the claims derived from those sources.   This issue has been a pet one of mine for some time now, and Jonathan C shares it; I’ve seen a lot of extempers pull some bad stunts, and never get called on it.   Furthermore, a number of coaches don’t seem to believe it’s a problem, either because they think it’s not being done (which is naive but not immoral), or because they think it’s not a big deal when it is done, which is anti-educative and appalling.

But rules are rules and I aim to raise the profile, so I took notes and am going to splash the results for the world, or the two people who read this blog, to see.

After the Extemp final, I got roped into judging the Oratory final by Steve M.   Shows what happens when you hang around the ballot table too much.   Apparently they needed me and one other judge to have five in the final; a final of that caliber really ought to have five judges, so I consented.   But again I wonder where the Harvard hires are, where the pre-planning is — why weren’t there 10 judges there of whom 5 clean ones could be selected?   However, judging the round gave me the opportunity to write Speech RFD Ballots for the first time, and I’ll post about that and the round itself later, as well.

Finally at this point I was able to escape the Science Center and buy myself a new phone to replace the RAZR which had got locked into the Suicide-a-Minute cycle the afternoon before.   The Verizon folks in Harvard Square tried valiantly to pull the contacts off the old one before it’s minute of life elapsed, but to no avail.   So now I was flying blind; people could call me and I’d have no idea who, and I had no way of calling my kids.   Woot.   (If you’ve tried to call me since, I did have a backup listing on my computer as of six months ago.   I’ve gotten to people with last names beginning with R.   If you’re reading this and suspect I put your number in my phone more recently than six months ago, please send me a text message with your name).

Then I grabbed lunch and during that Tim A called me and reminded me I’d skirted my judging obligation in doubles to see the extemp final, and could I make up for it by judging the final.   I of course agreed; the PF final will take up yet another blog post on its own.   I found myself as impromptu chair, suddenly in the spotlight after the round as I counted the ballots, handed trophies to my right and then larger ones to my left, clapped, and then dashed out to the speech final awards ceremony, just in time to see the beginning.

So busy day, but not a hugely tiring one, really.   Apart from going to the square once, I didn’t have to walk very far, and then everything ends around 5:00 PM or so and unlike the poor shlubs who get on buses and ride home to Jersey or Maryland, I   can skip home in about fifteen minutes.   That means I tend to linger a little, being in no rush; and that got me invited to see Jenny C and the U School kids the first time all weekend.   Ironically instead of talking to Jenny much I ended up mostly talking to their debaters and extempers, largely in an attempt to sway two of their recalcitrant speakers to joining us for the fun in EXL this summer.   Then, a birthday cake for an LDer, a fond farewell, a quick ride home, and some sleep.

Tomorrow: the Extemp final.

The Last Harvard: Sunday

Sunday at the Harvard tournament is probably the best day of the weekend.   Most of my initial social obligations are met, so I feel no trouble finding a quiet corner of campus and hiding.   After all, being an alum and former staffer has its privileges; knowing the non-tournament areas of campus well is an unqualified benefit.

The tournament day, in speech at least, also has that carnival atmosphere of a large tournament where students are breaking — or not breaking — to the next level nearly every ten minutes.   The typical screaming and carrying on accompanies each break posting.   In the past few years, the tournament began posting each break on their website, which has had the twin effect of making the actual posting less of an exciting hullabaloo, but also made life much more convenient; I can sit in my lounge with my still-working wireless connection, and know what’s going on all across campus with my students; I even know where they are.

So I spent the morning in MD, touched based with extempers and debaters, and then went for a lovely late lunch with Joe V at La Casa de Pedro, a Venezuelan place that is close enough to still be in reach of a suddenly sick kid, but far enough that no other forensics people were there, an important consideration since lunch with Joe V means a healthy round of character assassination.   Don’t worry, it was mostly about Menick.

Then we returned and I wandered to the Science Center, where my phone promptly died.   Now, given that our protocol was “call or text me when you arrive or leave” — despite the extempers believing this did not apply to them — this was decidedly unfortunate.     I tried to get the damn thing to work and instead stole some time on Mike V’s phone to establish whereabouts and whatnot with the kids.

Chrissy made it to DI Octos, the 2nd break round, thus making the trip worthwhile for her.   The extempers got a little massacred; three of them didn’t clear prelims at all, which was more than a little surprising, but it’s a randomly judged tournament so you can’t expect much out of it.   One PF team made the first break on a 4-2 record, while the other two missed clearing on 3-3s.   And the last extemper made finals again, which is a great thing for him; last year he took 5th.

That also meant I had to wake up on Monday since the extemp final was scheduled to launch at 9:00 AM, which meant 8:30 draw, which meant at least an 8:00 AM arrival.   I set my alarm grudgingly for 7:00 AM, but seeing as I did get home by 9:00 and cooked my own dinner, I can’t really say as it was terrible day.

Except for the dead phone, and not even I can blame Harvard for that.

However, Monday awaits us.

The Last Harvard: Saturday

The Saturday of Harvard is spent mostly standing, or walking.   The far flung nature, and size, of the tournament mean that it takes forever to get anything done, even if you don’t have anything to do.   For me, heading over to Congress tab to help Jason W with his laptops’ network connections took 2 hours.   I can’t explain why, but it always does.   Lunch takes forever to acquire and eat.   Going to check in with the debaters takes forever.   Finding the DI student apparently too so forever that I never managed to pull it off on Saturday.   I even ended up walking a half mile between dinner, dessert, and my car that night.

Standing up, means the ballot line.   The ballot line at Harvard is always quite daunting.   It’s long and horrid.   This year, being in the Science Center and not the horribly overcrowded CR&LS cafeteria, made the line seem less daunting, but there is something lacking in the Harvard ballot table.   Namely, people.   Columbia runs a ballot table with two people, Yale with three, Penn with one.   Harvard, which is approximately 3 times the size of Yale, runs with two.   The line, therefore, wraps around the building.

Furthermore, the same person runs the ballot table each year, which is admirable on her part; but she’s an alum of the team, which means she’s never seen another ballot table run at any other tournament.   We’ve discovered through the years in forming our traveling Northeast tab room that it works far better to have a floating set of people who run multiple tournaments a year in various mutual combinations; lessons learned are learned across the circuit; innovations that work become institutions.   If instead your tournament is outside that community of ideas, and you have your own people doing a critical job only once a year, sooner or later, your tournament ossifies.   Expectations probably tolerated such a slow ballot table 15 years ago, but they no longer do.

Last year, one of our judges was fined for missing around even though she came and stood in line far before the proclaimed deadline to do so.   Sarah D, the coordinator for the NCFL National tournament, was told she didn’t understand how to run a tournament of that size and scale when she had legitimate questions.   The ballot person has, therefore, a reputation for being short & rude; I can’t say as I blame her a lot, since she’s doing an impossible job, but I do blame the tournament, since the job shouldn’t be impossible.   They should have more staff; drawn from people more clued into to forensics world, especially people more knowledgeable about the judges.

They should also have a cattle call of real hired judges with actual forensics experience, not just random Parli kids, hanging out nearby.   These could, incidentally, be used to pre-pair the final round judge pools, so you don’t have Steve M. running around finding volunteers at the last moment like this year.   They never, as far as I’ve seen, have done so.   The debate tables are worse; a friend of mine who won the friggin’ tournament a few years ago was told she wasn’t qualified to judge early outrounds in her event.   That’s a good way to burn bridges.

That persistent lack of attention to detail, and connection with the clueful, points to another, more major criticism of the Harvard tournament.   Their links with the active high school community are minimal at best, and mostly exist because someone from the high school community approached them, not the other way around.   They are very solicitous; I emailed Sherri H. last year begging and pleading for the death of the pop culture round in Extemp and it was done.   (I did ask to write the extemp questions, which this year were sub par but not totally bad, but that was ignored…more on that tomorrow) But in general Harvard’s tournament is a separate beast and a separate institution; they could encourage many more links with the high school world and dampen a lot of criticism, but they don’t.

I’ve learned over the years it’s not enough to call for volunteers and call for feedback, however, and then say “pfeh!” if no one steps forward.   People are more likely to be involved if they’re approached specifically; sometimes folks assume you don’t mean them when you call for input or help; but it’s a honor to be asked specifically.   There are natural links with the high school community that Harvard has never pursued; they’ve never reached out to the Massachusetts Forensic League for input, advice, or even just acknowledgment; partly as a result, only about 1/4 of the active MFL programs even bother attending the largest tournament in our state.   The high school community isn’t going to do that outreach work ourselves, even if we’re asked for input generally.   After all, the Harvard tournament is fundamentally an interloper in our community.   It’s not the community’s job to accommodate to this giant fundraiser for a debate team in a different age bracket and different league altogether.

That lack of outreach on their part actually has a serious impact on the other four Ivy tournaments.   Coaches are made trigger happy to complain about high fees and bad practices at colleges, even as I’ve eliminated most of those bad practices and kept fees in line for nearly a decade now at Yale and Columbia.   UPenn is a newer project, and Princeton newer still, but both of them put together marvelously honest tournaments this past year, hiring judges and staffing their tournaments with a healthy mix of local people and forensics coaches.   The Ivy Circuit, as I’ve started calling it in my head, is really doing good things, and all four sets of hosts understand that this fundamentally about providing a good experience for high school kids, and that the long term benefit of that far outweighs short term profiteering.

However, coaches don’t give us much benefit of the doubt, and I feel that we’re often catching flak for Harvard; if Harvard weren’t there lumped in with the other four, setting the baseline, then people would be far less likely to whip out the profiteering complaint when there was actually a good rationale behind the targets of their discontent.   Yale hired judge fees are particularly high, but the tournament administration is so manpower-intensive that few YDA members can be spared to judge the tournament, making judge hires more expensive since they must be brought in from the outside.   We could do as Harvard does, and hire forensics-know-nothings off the local campus, but I have a higher standard than that, so we don’t.   I explain this in the invite, and yet, people complain to me every year about the cost.   Columbia has to pay a fortune for rooms, and their prices are lower still.

In other words, The four Ivy circuit tournaments are not perfect, but they’re trying, and I do think each one of them has far outstripped what Harvard achieves, given their individual resources.   When people nationally say they dislike college tournaments, they’re usually talking about Harvard or Emory; I dislike being painted with the same brush.

And even more so, knowing what things cost and how to run a college tournament, I go back to my $770 that I paid myself, and wonder where the rest goes.   If I were running Yale on a quarter million, I’d offer $75 honoraria to final round judges, and have people apply for them, selecting only the best.   I’d sure as hell not have Harvard Parli kids judging TOC bid rounds in LD over former tournament champions.   That kind of money could pay for a lot of things, and solve a lot of problems that I view as basic, child’s play.   If I can pre-panel 5 judge panels for Yale finals on Friday before the tournament even begins, then Harvard has no excuse for leaving blank slots on their Sunday night postings.

So, thus far, $770 is looking like it’s not worth the money.   If I’m paying that much, I’m not expecting perfection, as I’ve said before.   But I am expecting a serious effort to be the best, and thus far I’ve seen no serious effort to improve any of these factors, after a decade of attending the tournament.   Harumph.

Tomorrow, Sunday’s report.

The Last Harvard: Friday

My last Harvard tournament began with a relatively gentle Friday evening.   Harvard does not have competition on Friday night, so it’s simply registration.

For those who fly to Boston and stay in hotels and thus who knew their numbers and entries months ago, registration involves sending in a check and getting an email the week of the tournament with your students’ speaker codes and information all nicely lined up.   However, when you’re a local shlub like me, who registered my kids on Sunday and asked last week who’s going, you go to the hotel and register the old fashioned way.

Therefore, registering the old fashioned way is something of a Massachusetts reunion; there are several hundred high schools at the tournament, and yet I sat and lent pens to Sara S, Marc R, Jim M, and saw Dan S hanging around too.

Registration day also sets expectations.   Why?   Because I wrote a check for $770 to the Harvard Debate team.   This represents the sum total of my kids’ outlay for the tournament, apart from a bit of gas going back and forth, meals we would have eaten anyway, and quite a bit of lost sleep.   Some schools spend upwards of $30,000 to attend this tournament, once you roll in hotels, airfares, and many more students than we brought.   But still, $770 is a large figure indeed for 4 extempers, 3 public forum teams, and a lonely DI.

Our expectations for the tournament are already low.   I purposefully lower them due to the arbitrary nature of any large national tournament; judges have wildly different ideas of what’s good and what isn’t, especially across regions, and so you can never set any store by expectations.   We also don’t have the thrill of the travel-hotel-team experience; we could just as easily not pay $770 and still hang out the weekend in Boston if we wanted to.   I had a good group of talented kids there; but we also had a good group of talented kids go on vacation instead.

However, the forensics world would rather like something in return for the largest check it writes all year, both individually and collectively.   The fees at Harvard are a frequent item of discussion, especially when you add in the sheer size of the tournament.   You can do the math and get an idea of the floor of their revenues from the entry fees; note that these figures do not include entries who dropped after paying, or hired judging; even if they were to hire a judge for every hiring fee they took in, which is good practice, they still have their own students judge some rounds, so judging fees do not necessarily net zero profit for them.   Here’s the table:

Harvard Tournament Revenue
Event Numbers Fee Subtotal
DI 319 $60 $19,140.00
HI 238 $60 $14,280.00
EX 192 $60 $11,520.00
OO 213 $60 $12,780.00
DUO 187 $75 $14,025.00
PF 185 $140 $25,900.00
JVPF 116 $140 $16,240.00
LD 281 $120 $33,720.00
JVLD 297 $120 $35,640.00
CX 115 $160 $18,400.00
JVCX 84 $140 $11,760.00
CON 365 $75 $27,375.00
School 307 $50 $15,350.00
Totals $256,130.00

Now, that is revenue, mind, not profit; they do outlay quite a bit of that money on food, trophies, staffing, paper, shuttles, and above all rooms. I can attest how difficult and expensive room rentals can be at a college campus. However, that is also a staggering sum of money, and it informs nearly every other discussion of, and criticism of, the Harvard tournament. If the forensics world is collectively laying out a princely sum, it’s not unfair to expect a princely tournament in return.

So is that what we get? That brings us to Saturday.