Boys (and Girls) In Black

They gathered in the early morning dark wearing business suits like shadowy Mafia figures in Jersey. Only they were high school kids and one was mine. Stephen’s speech and debate team was headed to yet another weekend tournament and I was along as driver/judge.

The driving was the easy part. Talk about multitasking. I sat facing two teams of two debaters each, my left hand running the stopwatch, my right hand taking notes and marking time left for the speaker, my mind racing through all the things I need to be looking for as the multiple minute intervals ticked off. Forty minutes total for each round. Then in less than a nanosecond I had to determine the fate of each team and individual before the next round of teams entered the room.

By the end of my six rounds, I was exhausted. And I knew more about the French system of health care than I ever cared to know. Let everyone suffer for lack of medical attention! I’m taking a nap.

I was a high school debater long ago. But I’ve forgotten all but a vague sense of “been there, done that.” Now I’m reliving the experience from a new perspective – dad, driver and judge. Driver is not bad, but Dad is best, especially when Stephen brings home a huge grin and a recycled judo trophy with a Spartan “2nd” marked on the front.

It’s amazing to see so many American high school students spending their Friday evenings and long Saturdays debating real and theoretical social issues of our times. And loving it, even when the aging multitasking judge gives the other team higher marks. Each student super-politely thanks me and shakes my hand as he or she files out of the room, knowing the fate of the second-hand judo trophy rests in my hands.