I can save the world in 60 minutes. I have a way to stop the Taliban dead in their tracks, eliminate radicalism in Pakistan and improve relations with US troops and Afghan tribes. I know how to repair the United States’ fragile alliance with Turkey and Iran; I know of a way to avoid a possible famine throughout Asia and strengthen US hegemony worldwide. I can prevent a Korean War, thwart bioterrorist attacks, and even counteract the prospect of nuclear warfare. All you have to do is go along with my plan. Trust me, I know what I am doing—I’m a debater. Ok, I am no Superman, but if not for my school’s debate team, public speaking would still be my kryptonite. Thanks to my coaches, I feel I have come out of my shell, and debating is a new found superpower.
It was toward the end of the second semester of my sophomore year when my chemistry teacher, Ms. Eubanks, pulled me aside asked me to join the debate team. At first I was extremely hesitant. Me? An introverted bookworm like me being aggressive and speaking loudly towards people? She said my academics and eloquence made me a candidate and that if not for the block scheduling- where we have four classes one semester and four new classes the next- she would have asked earlier. She reassured me that it would be an experience worth having and that the aggressive part would come with time. As soon as I said “yes,” I was introduced to Ms. Beauvais, the head debate coach and Special Education teacher. Very few of my teammates could stay after school to teach me their debating techniques because most of them were 12th graders gearing up for senior week and prom. Even with the small audience I still felt like I would die every time I opened my mouth to speak. What if I forget what to say during the rebuttal? What if I freeze up during cross examination? What am I even talking about? I sat in the humid, smelly classroom three times a week, practicing and discussing how the 2008-2009 topic was debated and shoving as much information as possible into my brain. “The United States federal government should substantially increase alternative energy incentives in the United States.” I could not be more confused; I often went home with piles of papers to read. “What is so great about reading this junk??”
I thought in the beginning. I figured the great part would come with time.
That summer I attended the debate camp held at the University of Memphis. It turned out to be a fantastic experience; I slowly but surely I learned more about the procedures of policy debates. I met future rivals from schools all over the city, and coaches who debated all over the country. My junior varsity coaches, Aubrey Allen from Rhodes College and Brent Hansford from Atlanta, Georgia, were extremely helpful in explaining everything from terms to strategies. As much as I dreaded public speaking, I picked up a sterile pen, clamped it between my teeth and read aloud, backward and forward, trying not to let the accumulating drool become visible around my mouth. The example topics we debated about coaxed me to speak up; by the time camp was over I felt empowered and more confident. Throughout my junior year my confidence grew exponentially as I competed in more tournaments. I found myself rushing to Ms. Eubanks’ classroom three times a week to practice. I sat at the computer for hours looking for new research to share with my teammates. My fear of speaking faded, and the kryptonite became addictive like chocolate. Debate camp at the University of Memphis was a home away from home. By then, my superpower had finally come to full strength. I seemed to have found the great part of being a debater.
During my senior year, I was a varsity debater and president of the team. As such, I had a whole new set of expectations to meet—I could not hide behind my files and be taken seriously, and as the only varsity members left, my partner and I were determined our younger teammates learn the ropes of policy debating. I felt like I was on Cloud 9 when I debated; like the fate of the world was a marble between my fingers and I must defend it from opponents all over Memphis who are out to snatch it away.