A Reflective Moment in Roch. before Syrc. App

This is the try-again. I’m planning to have my Syracuse Grad School application done in the next week. It shouldn’t take too much work. In preparation, I need to sit down and reflect upon my personal statement. Clearly, I am a different person now with only possibly more defined academic goals.

So let’s review:

Coaching.

Overall, I’m fairly unimpressed with myself. I induce too many bolded periods and too few italicized question marks.

I appreciate more than ever the engaging environments that helped wake me to myself and my environment. Those teachers who protected the spaces from themselves and other cultural elements that would require of us premature finalities did so masterfully. They have explored so much more than I and somehow they seemed to so naturally clear the space for each willing student who needed to express a question – so many were awkward and uninformed (Oh! Had we only done the actual reading you gave us that day… maybe that question might have had more bulk to it!). How frustrating. But my mentors parried and reflected question after question. Wise, these ones were. They gave me the tools to dislodge myself from comfort so that I was beside myself with uncertainty – the productive kind that drives you to risk because you seek knowledge. My teachers were so effective in burning my forest that I am still frantically trying to replant it – thank Goddesses for the rich soil that is the remnants of what was.

So this process is what I want for the students I come into contact with. I have felt frustrated that much of my time with novice debaters is focused on explanation of format. It is a banking system of who knows the rules and can mimic them. Is this how I learned the format? I feel unpersuasive when I describe alternative critical arguments probably because I feel as though the pounds and pounds of paper in the Policy files would educate them better than I could. I am less instrumental than I idealized. But even then… Steve, Jaime and Jeremiah always introduced these critical arguments first with critical questions. Every night (pre-practice) I promise myself that there will be more questions and every night (post-practice) I realize that I was caught up in the moment; I was blind to the kairos. This leads me to believe that I have fundamentally positioned myself incorrectly. If I were truly a student now then I would look more like the student I was in the classroom: always raising her hand and asking … or did I ask less I asserted… but isn’t that the role of the classroom – a lab to test ideas? The bottom line is that I’m not the coach I want to be.

This experience has potentially helped me ground some of my questions a little bit better. Or maybe it’s just confused them.

Policy.

I have mentally written countless notes on my memory about Policy. “Huh, Alia, you should explore this idea later.” My experience at West Point was epic. In no way do I feel ready to be judging any sort of round in this format. The jargon is unfamiliar and the rules and diversity of paradigms are alien upon alien. I am angry that some of the debating resembles tattletaling, “But judge! They aren’t topical! And that’s bad for education.” I’m uncomfortable with the violence that happens when authors are forced to affirm or deny claims. My inability to listen closely, flow accurately and simultaneously check each card’s contents against the debater’s claims left me trusting students who may have very well been knowingly engaging in super tagging. I probably unwittingly rewarded this behavior with undeserved Wins. I hate that the competitive culture is encouraging what feels like soul crushing. I felt crushed. I felt stupid and weak, like I don’t belong and never could.

Now, that’s an extreme reaction, I know. Buddy Khan helped me consider that Ken probably doesn’t have the expectations that I will master this format anytime soon. And I realized that the standard to which I was probably holding myself is one I would not want to encourage another novice of the format to use for themselves.  In my hotel room that first night I sat alone, trying to relax. I practiced kindness… to myself. (that last sentence seems odd to me but I can think of no other way that I would like to put it.)

On the ride home I discovered some of the learning that is Policy. Then I was free to ask questions about other school’s preformative arguments and ideas in general. Buddy, Vijay, Ben, Alyssa… all people I learned from. There is something very beautiful in Policy’s ability to reflect upon itself and critique all of the faucets I listed above. The ballot can be made to mean something. It’s a transformation so skillfully done! And I’ve never seen it done in Worlds quite the same way. This format gives one space to argue from your unique positionality with quality personal narratives that are taboo in Worlds. I shed at least one tear while watching just one of these kinds of speeches at the Bronx high school tournament a few weeks ago.

In spite of my anger and confusion, I am intrigued by my new mistress. We shall learn to know each other well, me thinks.

Chess-oaching, Crazpeories and Miss-Commune-ication

Chess-oaching

The Ultimate Chess Game. Gah!

Last night, I was struck by an analogy. Since I got the call about coaching upstate, I have been chewing on the situation that this Worlds debate team is in. It is very different from what I come from. A competitive situation. What is the best way to balance between a large, well established Policy team and a small, infantile Worlds team? Funding and coaching are both finite. Most of all, I worry about the attitudes that the existent imbalance has potentially bred. Certainly some of the Worlds debaters perceive that they have been slighted. This is the problem I’ve been mulling over. So far… mugwump.

Clearly, there are numerous ways to coach. Choosing the best one for a team depends on the specific needs of the members and the situation of the group (duh). Considering what I know (dear lord, there’s so much that I don’t!) I should be able to decipher the appropriate attitude. Play out in my mind how this could work and what that would look like. This fictitious situation, that made-up scene, posturing here and there in the future I can imagine. It’s like a chess game. By the time this thought hit me, my head was on the pillow and I was hoping that sleep would come soon to mollify all of the active questions in my head… even if only for the night. Fail! I hate chess. Mostly because I’m really bad at it in a family that’s largely gifted at such strategy games. Took me awhile to fall asleep.

I woke up unmollified. A Harry Potter scale chess game was probably featured in a dream or two. Additionally, I woke up at six in the morning with no reason to. SO… I picked up a new book that Steve gave me (in a batch of a bunch which I am excited about). I should have continued reading the book I started last night (The House on Mango Street by Sandra Cisneros) but I felt ambitious. Now I feel confused. I read the first third of The Spirit of Terrorism by Baudrillard and am entirely lost.

Crazy People with Theories = Crazpeories

The man, the myth, the... what is he talking about?

Oh dear Jaime, who on Earth is this man and what in Hell is he talking about?

I don’t understand what a terroristic situational transfer is. He writes pretty but it seems like smoke and mirrors thinking. He is characterizing 9-11 as something unfamiliar to me and the American power as nothing human. All humans as nothing human. Are there persons in his world? Are there hearts and consciences? Can they decide not to imagine the same kind of destruction terrorists wrought? Not to secretly want it? Not to openly want it?

The part I like the best/am confused the most by so far:

“…what other way is there but a terroristic situational transfer? It was the system itself which created the objective conditions for this brutal retaliation. By seizing all the cards for itself, it forced the Other to change the rules. And the new rules are fierce ones, because the stakes are fierce. … This is terror against terror – there is no longer any ideology behind it…”

The parts I left out between are the parts that detail (I think) what the symbolism of the attacks did and how the system reacted in much the same (?).I’ll work chew on the rest of it after the festivities of graduation. A coffee date is sure to result. Bueno!

Mis-commune-ication in the family

The yellow one smiles. He doesn't even know.

The rest of my thoughts concern the family that is visiting my sister and me in New York for my graduation this Sunday. My parents and my paternal grandmother are loving but different from me. When we showed our parents our tiny apartment my sister was comforted that I was listening to a cursing rap song (Thanks, Korey!). It set a tone, she explained, that this is our lifestyle in our own home and, though it’s different, we would like it if you accepted us in it. After dinner, I talked up Em’s song Renegade to my dad last night (or tried to). What an uphill battle! And it’s really not worth it. Alana and I know that they will never understand the worlds we talk about, the ones we are fascinated by. The problem probably goes both ways. They will continue to voice the same opinions we’ve heard all this time:

The cursing means I don’t listen to it.

We set examples in the Church for young people and have to be careful.

I have nothing in common with that person, those people and/or that question you’re asking.

And we will each voice our own.

But something will change after this weekend. After today even! Today I will tour mom and dad around campus and reveal the physical world which housed/s the symbolic and spiritual world that transformed me. I will relay memories and excitement. Through the rain, my smile will persist because that building and this bench they are so much more than I can ever explain to you, Mom and Dad! This teacher you are meeting now, he asked me this question and opened that window. Don’t ask me about that bush or that wall because there is still residual memories there from the Love I had and gave up and it still hurts. Enjoy this cup of coffee instead and soak in the atmosphere that stimulated me. Know that the most exciting part of campus will not be the bookstore even though the St. John’s Dad Sweater looks great on you. This tour will not be about the school… for me. It will be an introductory course to your daughter.
And this is what saddens me most. The summers I spent in Hillsboro were frustrating but I thought that if only you could be in my world then you would understand. Today, you will see it but you will not feel it. There are limitations to my communication. I can’t transfer what I want to into your brains. I hope that you learn a little bit more today but I am prepared for the rift to be frustrating. We are permanently in different worlds. I don’t understand why that makes me so sad but it does.

Coaching. Shit!

Epic failure. An emotional post so be it.

Coaching sucks. Like, this shit is really hard. I had an allergy attack (didn’t even know I had seasonal allergies) the moment the practice round started. My note taking was blurry. I missed one of the time knocks. And my note taking is shit for judging because I write like I am in the debate round.

Amidst the blurry eyes and stuffy sinuses, I was so proud of Korey for making a great whip speech with what government was able to put together on the motion:

THW allow people serving lifetime prison sentences to choose the death penalty.

He did a great job. I almost cried because I realized that though the debate wasn’t great all of these debaters will only get better over the next year. THAT is exciting… and scary. Such powerful people. Awe-some. Plus, Imma miss debating with him so much. Imma miss debating at all.

But coaching is shit hard. I had never even thought of the politics of co-coaching. What happens when several people have a say on guiding a student? God dammit. And what do I say to a student when they start defending what they said in the round after adjudication? I’m pretty fucking flawed so maybe I did hear it wrong? What if I can’t get respect? What if students don’t look up to me, don’t trust me? What if I have to resort to a higher-up to verify me? Fuck.

I did listen very differently to what Steve and Jaime were pointing out. They did a good job of (Jaime) reminding debaters that the debate is about reality on the ground and (Steve) the problems in the speeches are more than just the details. Steve did a good job of talking about general debate cases and rebuttal so that you can take his coaching with you no matter the round.

paper to write. stupid fears. I own them. Not the other way around.

The most empowered have got to be the ones who believe themselves (with open hearts and self awareness) to have great potential. I’m getting there. maybe.

Much on the brain on the first day

There is so much to consider at the get-go! This is my last tournament as an undergrad – USU British Parliamentary Debate Nation Championship. I hope all goes well. Korey and Steve remind me of the mindset I ought to aim for. I can do that. Speak holisitcally with quality and never forget that this is a game with flawed rules – by no means is it a final judgment on who I am.

I’ve to wake in a few hours refreshed and ready for business. We’ll rock this shit – me and Korey – because that’s what we came for. I love little more than to be debating with him and I am sure that the ride this time around will grant me an arsenal of lessons. I seem to think differently about the rounds now that my mind considers coaching…

So much to unfold.