We Break for Speech Geeks

Hey there, MGFers! The Lily is back! The month went by a lot faster than anyone expected, but it was good to take a step back. No, I have not finished editing my novel, but I will tell you that I am deep enough into it that I can’t just drop it. So, it will get done eventually! Congratulations to my friends who did finish NaNoWriMo…you guys rock! And a special thanks to BrownSuga and Orchid for holding the fort down while away. Now…back to the show! – Lily

Lenny and Lily White are masochists.

You have to have a taste for suffering to enjoy and dedicate your life to Speech and Debate. Since the age of fourteen, the time between October and April has always been filled with countless weekends of sixteen to twenty hour days of either competing or coaching.

Our schedule during Speech and Debate season rivals that of any TWO sports in high school. And coaching it is a full time commitment. There are practices after school until 9 and 10 o’clock at night during the week. You have to be sure you leave the tournament with the 40 kids you came to the tournament with. We ride the kids about their academic eligibility constantly. Creating a 100-slot entry ON TIME is a challenge. Proof reading speeches and bills is a way of life. It’s all very time consuming. And that’s just dealing with the kids. Lucky for me, I only deal with it once or twice a week.

Then you have Lenny’s job – not only is he a coach who sees the kids five days a week – he’s a man in charge of a state. Being the chairman of our state coaching association means, I get to share my husband sometimes. It hasn’t gotten out of control (yet). But, every once in awhile, there’ll be the string of cell phone calls when we’re trying to eat. Or Lenny will be home late on a weeknight because a coach running their tournament needs assistant setting up. And at tournaments, I visit him in his little computer hobbit hole where he and a small staff keep the master score card for the competition.

It is during these little visits where I came to a realization about my husband. This weekend, I walked my way through the halls of our host high school during the last tournament of our winter semester (FREE AT LAST…FREE AT LAST…THANK LINCOLN-DOUGLAS DEBATE I’M FREE AT LAST!). Peeking into the room Lenny had been working out of for the last two days, I took caution to make sure his mood was in the green. Trying to get us out of there before midnight is a very stressful thing and often leaves Lenny testy. Many a fight in the White Marriage has occurred in this scenario.

Luckily, Lenny was in a good mood and a quiet moment. It was the middle of the day, so I sat down and was happy to spend time with him. I started my wifely inquisition:

“How are you doing, honey?”

“ caused me to lose an entire section of . But other than that, I guess things are going okay.”

“Cool. Did you get enough sleep last night?”

“Probably not.”

“Okay…tomorrow you’re sleeping in. Did you eat?”

“Yes honey, I ate. And I’d appreciate it if you’d stop telling our kids to badger me about eating.”

“Lenny…you don’t eat when you’re busy.” “You know I’m right.”

“Yeah. Fine.”

This conversation mirrors just about every conversation that I’ve had with Lenny at a Speech and Debate Tournament in the last four years. Someone recently said at a tournament that if you keep Lenny fed, happy, and working the event would go off pretty decently.

So basically my husband is a Tamagotchi. And I’m responsible for pushing the buttons.

But that wasn’t the biggest revelation of the day! As I sat there congratulating myself for the Tamagotchi remark, it dawned on me that we have been doing this for a very long time. Sixteen years! To this day, my parents and non-speech friends wonder why I continue to work as hard as I do for free. I always tell them the same thing: Being a Speechie is in your blood. Once you have it, you can’t really get rid of it.

Being a part of competitive Speech and Debate has given me lots of opportunity to do things that I never thought I’d be able to do. It’s given me skills that have gotten me through life in a much easier fashion than some of my other friends. Through it, I became the person I am today.

I love the activity. I love what it does for teens. I love it as if it were a person in my family.

Whenever things get frustrating and I think about leaving or taking a break, I find it very hard to imagine my life without Speech. I mean, come on! My schedule would be a hell of a lot emptier without it!

Half of my life has been about Speech. Speech and Debate to me is hauling around little black binders and big plastic tubs of evidence. It’s learning to be comfortable in a suit and heels all day long for three days straight. It’s filling my head with facts in 30-minutes and spitting out a 7-minute speech. It’s about juggling time to compete in five different events. It’s been spent expecting my best performance to win anytime and anyplace. It’s been learning about how sometimes my best isn’t enough and that’s okay.

But it has also been about some great memories: A snowball fight outside a noodle house in Harvard Square. Puking right before giving a speech that would eventually be considered one of the six best at a national tournament. My first kiss ever on a bench in the West Common of San Diego State University. Screaming “What makes the grass grow?” to thirty-five kids and have them chant “Blood! Blood! Blood!” at morning vocal warm-ups. A marriage proposal in front of 500 hundred students and coaches.

Yeah…Speech has given me some good times. How can I ever turn my back on it?

So often I hear people put down Speech and Debate. It still ranks out there with the Chess Team and AV Club at some schools as the definition of cool. But after all these years and all the gifts I’ve gotten from the activity, I can’t be ashamed of it.

My name is Lily White – and I’m a Speech Geek. Long may my Speech Freak Flag fly!