Personal Statement - Katherine L.

I hadn’t gone to debate camp. That statement resounded in my head. I hadn’t gone to debate camp. So then, what was I doing here, stuck in this tiny room with my partner and facing two pink-shirted giants? I hadn’t gone to debate camp. We would lose the round.

My pen was poised over the notepad, ready. “Time…starts…NOW! My partner and I negate the resolution, resolved…” On and on and on our opponents chattered, at about 200 words per minute. My pen flew out of my slippery hand. I could feel the sweat staining my black dry-clean-only business suit. The insides of my high heels were uncomfortably wet.

When it was my turn to speak, I stumbled over words. I repeated arguments. I looked nervously between our opponents and the judge, creating long pauses between sentences. My heart pounded as rapidly as if I had just sprinted a mile.

The agonizing two thousand, seven hundred seconds of our first-ever debate ticked by. We lost.

The previous spring, I had rashly tossed aside the flyer for debate camp, despite my coach’s countless orders to sign up. I had thought about math, swimming, and writing. If I could so easily achieve recognition in those areas, I was sure to be good at debate. After all, I was already taking classes from Texas’s number one debate coach, as he so often reminded us. My arrogance cost me a thousand dollars’ worth of instruction.

I didn’t go to debate camp.

My partner and I sped through another round. This time, the judge chose us as the winners, but I think he was biased based on looks. The third round, we didn’t have to debate. Thank goodness. All that was left was to hope for the best.

Several hours later, they taped a pink sheet of paper onto the wall. Parents and children swarmed it, each holding up a phone to take a picture of the top eight teams, who would compete some more. Right in the middle, there were our names: Lust-Liu. With glowing looks, we hoisted our backpacks and dragged our parents to the room.

No one was there. No one was coming, either. The hallways were completely empty. Something was horribly wrong.

It turned out the results had been flawed. We hadn’t made it after all, but it was fine. We hadn’t expected to. Maybe we were a little disappointed, but we mostly felt relief that the day was over, relief that we could leave.

I wasn’t good at debate, as I had thought I automatically would be. That second round was the only one we ever won. But I learned that you don’t have to be good to have fun. Although winning is definitely exciting, so is doing something new and wonderful.

This summer, I’m ready to attend debate camp. Even if there are giants, wearing shirts of gaudy colors, I won’t back down because I’m no longer aiming to crush them. I just want to try out this new love.