Success

At about midnight last night I woke up and realized that when I sat down from my speech when I ran out of time, my watch said I still had a minute left. Basically, my opponant set his timer for a minute shorter than what I really got. Which is why I was so confused and why I thought I was running out of time, and why I was so flustered for the rest of the debate. I don't believe he did it on purpose, but still it is unfair. I talked to a few people about it though, and they said some very true things. Amanda said being pissed off isn't going to change anything, and that's right. By this morning it was already too late to do anything about it. Brittany said it simply... "shit happens", or in my little Mormon world, "crap" happens. (I need to cut down on the swearing I do in this blog. I never swear verbally, so I shouldn't swear in type either). Kristin probably put it best though.
"The fundamental difference between debate and all those other sports is that in basketball, you make a basket and you get a point. But in debate, arguments that seem logical and good to some judges may seen nonsical and bad to others. Flow judges judge on different things than lay judges. People think debate is objective but it's not, and it's never really fair."
Anyway, I'm okay with it now, that I lost because of that. Crap happens, people make mistakes, and everyone has an off round.
As for the rest of the tournament, I, for once, can say I had a good tournament and I'm proud of myself. I didn't the best win-loss record, I won two and lost two, and I didn't break, even to octafinals, but there were about 50 LD-ers there. I had to cope with the fact that Brittany broke and I didn't (although she went down in octs). So it wasn't, on the surface, any different than the last tournament.
But if you look past that, as I have, and think about the things that really matter... Last night I debated the best two rounds of my debating career. I did an awesome job. I hit two very daunting opponants, a girl I had lost to in the past, and a girl who has been consistently breaking. But I didn't let that fear get to me like I usually do. I went into my first round with an attitude I rarely have. I was self-confident, I was smooth, I was in control. I had that aura I've been struggling for. Same thing for second round. And my debating was at its best. I did my true best in those two rounds, and I won one of them. I beat a person I never thought I could beat, because I am starting to develop that assertiveness and excellent speaking skills (my speaker points are always very high). My round this morning was easy, and I won, and I had that same control although it wasn't as exciting of a round.
So, ultimately, rather than being disappointed, I am proud of myself. I am frusterated with my round last night in which those unfair things happened, and know I could have won if they hadn't, and that I would have broken if I'd won, but crap happens, life goes on, and discluding that debate and its unfairness, I had an awesome tournament.
I think I'm getting somewhere with this self-actualization thing, because I could have never been proud of going 2-2 even a few weeks ago. I'm just beginning to realize that your record doesn't really reflect your ability, that debate truly isn't objective.
For example, the girl who has won every tournament all year and has been undefeated except for one or two freak debates went down in octafinals today. There is no doubt in anyone's mind that she is still the best LD debater in the state. But that didn't make it any easier for her. She cried. She felt horrible I'm sure. Her senior year, she's had an amazing season, and the tournament where she wants it the most, she goes down.
That's how it is with debate though, and I'm beginning to realize that judges aren't perfect, people make mistakes, everyone has a bad round, sometimes people are unlucky, and generally, life goes on. Going 2-2 and getting somewhere around 20th doesn't make me the 20th best debater in the state. I know that if I can perfect that control I had the beginnings of at this tournament, I can beat anyone. And I know that my senior year, Brittany and I are going to rock LD debate.
I know that I am good at debate. And I don't need a judge to tell me this. And even if a judge doesn't agree with this, I still know it in my heart. That's all that matters, I suppose in the end, and that's all that Amanda has been trying to tell me all along. Maybe I haven't won any tournaments this year, but that doesn't change the fact that in ideal circumstances, I could have easily beat all of them.
I think that realizing this is an important step for me, and I think that it's what people have been telling me for years. Success is great, and nice, but especially in LD, it doesn't mean you're the best or that you should have won, and the same is true for failure: it doesn't mean you're not good, or that you should have lost. Everything is crazy and thrown up in the air and so much is based on luck and, in the end, the judge's personal opinions.
Last week at Powell Brittany and I wrote this pledge and everyone signed it:
End the Abuse (The Pledge of Self-Actualization):
We, the people of Amand and Shea's debate teams, make this pledge to end the abusive relationship between judge and debater. We will no longer give the judges the power of altering our self-confidence. We will remain assertive and sure of our abilities despite the ballot outcome. We assume the right to believe that judge decisions are not always grounded in pragmatism, reality, or technical aspects. We, the people, refuse to concede to the tyranny of mediocrity. WE WILL NEVER TALK PRETTY TO WIN.
Ammendment 1: 0-5, 1-4, and 2-3 tournaments do not mean the world is ending. THEY MEAN THE JUDGES DON'T KNOW WHAT THE H*LL THEY'RE DOING.
I got this pledge out today when I was feeling defeated, and like a failure, and I read through it, and I realized it's true, and it will always be true, and it's the only constant thing about debate: that things aren't always fair, or correct, or right. People aren't constant and judges aren't constant and judging isn't constant and that is why debate will never be constant.
I felt, today, like a failure for a little while. But then I sat down and I told myself, I can look at this tournament as an opportunity to grow for next weeks NFL's, or I can look at it as a failure. And I thought about how I'd improved, and how I was able to have that aura I've been trying to get, and I realized, I'm not a failure. I make mistakes, I have my off-days, I get flustered and sometimes I'm not self-confident. But I am an awesome LD debater, one of the best in the state, and no one and nothing can ever change that but me.
Also, this is entertaining, I was sitting by Matt and Brittany at the awards ceremony, and they were talking about appreciating your judges and coaches and such, and how everything was posted on time (everything was, it was a very good tournament), and then they said, there's no lost and found except for these shoes left at the last tournament. And they held up my fifty dollar shoes I thought I'd lost! Wow I don't think I've ever been more excited. I said, "Those are mine!" but it wasn't loud enough, so I yelled, "THOSE ARE MINE!" but it still wasn't loud enough, and the lady, Virginia, started walking off stage, so I jumped up and yelled while frantically waving my arms, "THOSE ARE MINE!!!!!" and the whole auditoreum, the whole state of speech and debaters, laughed at me and I turned a true shade of red as I went up to get them. But boy am I happy- I debated this whole tournament in my fuzzy slipper socks and my Ugh (or however you spell that) boots.
So, life and things and happenings do work out okay, in the end, I suppose. Matt said, "it's like that feeling you get when you're having a horrible dream and you wake up, and realize it's not real", because last week I told him that was the best feeling in the world.
It it did feel like that. And it was.
And I'm very proud of myself because I could have emotionally fell apart again at this tournament (although I am medicated so it's easier), but I chose to look at it as a learning experience, and as a result, I can say happily, it was an awesome tournament.
It would be nice though, someday, to win something, something big. I've never done that. I think it would be a nice feeling.