The first thing that amazes you about a high school speech tournament is that the kids are so dressed up. You just don’t picture high schoolers that way these days. Suits, ties, shiny shoes.
The second surprise is that anyone can find the room they are supposed to be in. I feel like we’ve earned a piece of cheese or a tidbit of fresh fish every time we work out the maze and end up in the right room.
But the third thing is that beyond what you might imagine, this building reeks of energy, adrenaline, triumph, disappointment, nerves of steel, and sheer exhaustion. High stakes performances punctuated by card games, idle chatter, tense anticipation, roaring laughter, and big sighs.
Tammy and I have a vested interest in this tournament, since our daughter Sheila participates. She’s a senior, she’s doing well, and she has introduced us to a whole new world. But even if you don’t have a child to proudly support, this is fascinating stuff. In fact, the first round we attend doesn’t include Sheila at all. One by one, complete strangers walk in to do Extemporaneous speeches.
In random drawings, the contestants have pulled a question out of a hat, taken 30-60 minutes to prepare, and are now telling us how to address issues as complex as dealing with gangs in prisons and countering cyberwarfare advances in China. The two best contenders do so for 6-7 minutes without notes, clearly and coherently, absolutely putting to shame the adults we’ve known who cannot discuss an issue without resorting to anger, foul language, and personal attacks.
And then our hearts break for the guy who walks in, sighs deeply, says a few things about Hugo Chavez’s presidency in Venezuela, asks if he can be excused, and walks out, shoulders slumped. Outside the room he says to someone, “Aw man, I think I just went thirty seconds.” “Thirty seconds over the limit?” they ask. “No. Thirty seconds.” Still, he tried, and for that we’re proud of him.
Two of the best in the state are from North Platte. I hope they stay here, or come back soon after getting their degrees! When we congratulate one on his speech, he says, “I just hope I beat Kirsten (sp?) Block.” Apparently she is from Gothenburg, feared and revered. But instead of smash-mouthing her and making excuses, they push, push, push to beat her. We love that about these kids.
The day goes quickly. Persuasive speeches written by the contestants (our Sheila is one of the top contenders in Nebraska as she makes the case for “cooperation” being a more proactive approach than “tolerance”), highly synchronized teams performing Oral Interpretation of Drama, over-the-top individuals doing Comedy in all sorts of weird accents and facial expressions that exhaust us, and Duets that are so funny we just want to roll on the floor and hold our stomachs.
They take this stuff seriously, even when it’s funny. As we race through the halls logging hundreds of aerobic points in search of rooms, we see a pretty young lady in a suit speaking earnestly and gesturing convincingly to a fire extinguisher. Others just amble along the halls talking to no one but themselves in British, German, Bavarian or Australian accents, their voices alternating between soprano and bass.
For lunch we brave the cafeteria and feel like we’ve just landed in a refugee camp with a soup kitchen. Bags, spare clothes and junk food litter the landscape. Props are propped here and there—a mannequin dressed in an evening gown, a giant roll of duct tape, easels and poster boards. Students flop where they can, some eating, some sleeping, some laughing, some consoling, some sending and receiving text messages from friends on the other side of the dining room, as if it just requires, like, too much energy to walk over and talk to each other.
When it’s all over, we join everyone for the awards ceremony, which is quite interesting in its own way. For one thing, there are lots of kids who “place,” so for each event there can be a bit of a line on stage. As each name is read, working from bottom to top, we collectively give one loud clap until the final announcement: “And the champion for this event is….” when the room erupts into thunderous applause and cheers and students all over the auditorium leap to their feet. That has to feel good. We are so proud of how often our North Platte students are right up there at or near the top, as if we’d coached them ourselves.
Special honors are given to the foreign exchange students who have competed. “Yeah,” I think to myself, “they deserve special honors.” I try to imagine myself competing in any foreign language that I know, and decide that I probably wouldn’t. But here they are, diving right in and even placing in some cases. Amazing. Our own speech team includes Huan He, born in China and raised in the U.S. “The Asian,” his teammates affectionately call him. As in, “We’re not competing in this round, we just came to babysit The Asian.” He's not an exchange student, and he clearly needs no babysitting—he shows up frequently on stage to accept top honors in his events. In fact, Sheila informs us, he has placed in every one of his events every time.
“Do the 52” includes attending a high school speech tournament. The easiest to attend will be “Blue and Gold” at the N.P High School on Saturday, February 9 (go to www.plattepost.com, “Do the 52”, “Educational” for details a couple of days before the event). Expect to be entertained. And impressed. And proud.
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