Epic Spar Battle Royale (or, how to say goodbye)

I said my first goodbye yesterday.

We had a debate tournament (my third debate weekend in a row, yeesh) in Richfield this weekend. We had 10 people compete, and took home first in Congress, second in Open LD, and first in SpAr. But results were mixed. For example, I got killed in impromptu, which was not fun at all, because I'd thought I'd really been on a roll. It worries me, because what am I going to do when I get to State and have the same judges? Turns out, central/southern Utah judges don't want to hear the same stories as Northern Utah judges. No Miss Representation or AP English stories. Time to adjust the register and find some new ones.

That said, it was still a really, really fun trip. I played endless Bang and finished the novel I didn't finish on time for AP English (and loved it) and wore stupid hipster glasses in honor of my beloved debate camp PF coach, who was never seen without.

One thing that caught me off guard though, was that, as I mentioned, I had to say my first goodbye at this tournament.

This tournament marks our last "normal" tourney of the year - all that's left is Region, and State. The number of events you can sign up for at these meets is limited, so I've been planning to go in Public Forum as my debate event and Impromptu as my IE. That said, when I participated in spar at this tournament, it was my last time ever.

I realized this about halfway through the day, and pushed the thought to the back of my mind because that's what we have to do when sad and startling things take us by surprise. I joked about it a bit, but at the same time, it nagged at me for the rest of the day.

The Final Round itself was nothing spectacular. The resolution was about prohibiting guns in public places, and I went neg. I talked about abuse victims, and safeguards, and Constitutional rights. The girl I debated was a lot like me, which was weird. Clash was heated but respectable. I talked fast.

But upon finishing that, the Final Round, the last spar round of my entire life, I had to sit in the hallway by myself for a while and just cry. My hipster glasses fogged up. I was so deeply sad - and I don't even like spar.

Debate has quite simply been a really good thing for me, and while I'm so excited to move on to adulthood and New York City and Columbia, it's sad to see it come to an end.

This is the first of many goodbyes, and a good, gentle one to start with. It's still tough, though, to realize that soon, for the first but certainly not last time, I'll be saying goodbye to the only life I have ever known.

It's hard to leave something good for something better.

It's exciting to be in the final pages of this chapter of my life. But with that excitement I'm learning also comes a fair amount of heartache and trepidation. It sucks to say goodbye. I can believe all good things come to an end, but the inevitability of it doesn't make things any easier.

The truth of the matter is that very soon, my life will change drastically. I can't wait. But at the same time, how do I say goodbye to living down the hall from my other family members, and coming home to be greeted by Mal and Henry V, and the climate my hairstyling technique has adapted to, and seeing my friends whenever I choose, and driving down Highland Drive every morning in the dark, and sitting at the same gray tables I've sat at for years?

It sucks to say goodbye. It's wonderful to say hello. I don't want to go. I want to go more than I've ever wanted. I'm scared. I'm excited. I'm happysad about the whole thing. It's just that, until now, I didn't realize I would be sad at all.

In Tongan, there are two words for goodbye. If you are leaving, you say, "nofo a." If you are staying and someone else is leaving, the word is "'alu a." I've always loved that there are two goodbyes. Staying pain is very different from going pain. And staying joy is very different from going joy. It's fitting that we get to say different sorts of goodbyes in our lives.

And so: goodbye, spar. You were the first event I ever competed in debate. We've had some good times. You're the event that let me say things like "guns belong at school" and "I was raised by chimpanzees", not because I necessarily believe it, but because I had to learn how to make an argument I couldn't believe. Somehow, through all the bizarre arguments and infuriating cross ex's and eye rolling, I think I learned how to understand other people better.

I took first place in Varsity Spar at Richfield, though. Guess I'm going out with a bang.

Nofo a.