18 March 2012

Spring Break Ends

Spring break was fabulous and utterly exhausting. I can't believe it's over. I feel like I should have slept more.

Fawning descriptions of Italy and sentimental debate anecdotes will have to be written at a time when I am not suffering from jet lag, and bus lag, and don't have laundry to do. But in commemoration of the End of My High School Debate Career, here's a letter that almost made me cry, it made me so excited. And really, I'd take the few minutes to read it. It's lovely. It makes a wonderful case (har har) for debate - one that will help you understand debate if you don't, or simply pull at your heartstrings a bit if you do.

Why Debate?

By Denise Yu

Vice President in Charge of Campus Affairs

For many overachieving high school students in this world of increasingly systemized entrance to higher education, participating in Public Forum, Lincoln-Douglas, Speech, and many other various forms of intermural debate is just another way to tout the label of well-roundedness to the country’s elite colleges and universities. Once high school students pass the scrutiny of admissions boards and matriculate to places like Columbia, Yale, the University of Chicago, Boston University, and so forth, it seems that debate has served its purpose. So why would anyone in his or her right mind forego things like normal sleeping/eating routines, a steady on-campus social life, and occasionally a higher GPA for the sake of continuing to debate at the collegiate level?

Discourse, disagreement, and reconciliation are perhaps the most fundamental media of the spread of existing ideas and the discovery of new ones. Without the elucidating power of debate, dogmas would exist unchallenged, and hidden truths would remain dormant. But beyond Socratic ideals, debate also carries many practical cerebral benefits for the average young adult during the college years and well beyond.

The typical debater’s knowledge base will grow exponentially simply from exposure to disparate subject matter in rounds. The nature of American Parliamentary Debate entails an infinite number of possible debate topics: a round can be about President Reagan’s missile defense policies, the moral defensibility of Luke Skywalker killing his father, or anything in between. A common criticism of the American Parliamentary style charges debaters with relying on a canon of all-purpose examples used analogically in argumentation rather than grounding claims in real-world knowledge. To become competent at British Parliamentary, for example, demands a critical mass of knowledge about current international affairs and world history.

The beauty of American Parliamentary Debate’s reliance on disparate examples is that it demands a stronger understanding of critical application. The strength of an argument rests as much on the debater’s skill at explaining how the crux of the analysis is supported by the examples as it does on the validity of the argument itself. Seasoned debaters will sometimes joke – or lament – that an “APDA-sound” argument would never persuade a jury.

The critical reasoning skills learned through debate are perhaps what motivate some to choose the activity. Debaters will develop the ability to construct logically-structured arguments, and, just as importantly, how to deconstruct these types of arguments. Many debaters put these reasoning skills to use on the LSATs and the GREs, but those who do not choose that route still enjoy benefits such as being able to write better philosophy papers or winning arguments against stubborn siblings.

Critical thinking also manifests itself in unexpected ways for the devoted parliamentary debater. American Parliamentary Debate requires individuals to write their own cases, so a debater pursuing a speaker award and/or high-quality debate rounds will always be searching for new case materials. In doing so, she evaluates each modicum of information she absorbs throughout the day and performs quick mental calculations as to whether a moral dilemma from Contemporary Civilization or a New York Times Op-Ed presents two evenly-weighted sides worthy of being written up into a case.

This constant application of scrutiny creates a more conscious evaluation of the things that happen around us. It transforms the debater from a passive consumer of information to an active participant in the dialogue. Debate is by no means the only way to develop a larger knowledge base and acute critical thinking, but former college debaters like William F. Buckley and George Stephanopoulos would probably agree – you’ll have a hell of a fun time along the way.

I certainly picked the right college. And hey, turns out I picked a pretty good extracurricular to fill the last two years too.

But right now, awkwardly trapped somewhere between the start and end of the debate season, I'm just going to flail around like a chicken with its head cut off, and wear flip flops to class, and look for a summer job. (Anyone up for hiring me? I'm great at dealing with curly hair, sweeping floors, typing, and writing blocks.)

02 March 2012

Ten

10 Things on my Mind (in no particular order)

10. Top 10 lists that start at 10 and count down to 1 are much more interesting than lists counting 1 to 10. They inspire a feeling of anticipation (what could the last one possibly be??). And the "#1" suddenly becomes very important. It's like what Ira Glass said about music when I saw him at Kingsbury. If you record someone speaking with music in the background, and then slowly allow the music to fade out to nothing, what they say next suddenly becomes incredibly important. (Italicizing the end of a sentence sort of has the same effect.)

9. And speaking of Ira Glass, here is one of my all time favorite fiction pieces. Act 1: Lieland. By my beloved Etgar Keret. Listen to it while you paint your nails or clean your bathroom.

8. Oh, and here is one of my all time favorite nonfiction pieces. Tissues out for this one, folks. The story is Act 1, Chronicle of a Death Foretold, and it's lovely. I don't know what to say about it except that I hope you listen, because it will tear you up and make you laugh all in a sentence.

7. Guys. Leggings are great. Seriously. I was always in the "leggings are not real pants" camp, but I have more than converted. Oh my goodness. Leggings are just the best.

...unless you go to BYU.

6. My senior show is printed. The entire thing. Fourteen images (28, seeing as I made copies of each one). Printed printed printed printed printed. It takes about one hour to make one image, and that's not even counting the time it takes to make a copy, and to mix chemicals, and set up the darkroom, and on and on.

There seem to be a disturbing number of people at my school who look down on photography, because it is not genuine "art". It is not "creation". But I beg to differ.

I have worked toward this show for five years. The sheer time I put into my photographs is exhausting. Does it take me several months to complete one, as it does a painting? Well, yes and no. There is a tremendous amount of time spent setting up the studio, lighting my subject matter, finding time when my models can meet with me, loading my camera, shooting - endless shooting! - unloading and reloading my camera, rolling film, processing, drying, chemical mixing, contact sheet printing, enlarger finagling, editing, test strips, big prints, dodging, burning, pressing, matting. Hours and hours and hours.

But there's also a few years of experience to back this up - years without which I could not make what it is I make.

And then there's this idea that photography isn't actual creation. But I do create an image. And I see the wonderful girls in my AP class creating things in beautiful ways. Noticing something lovely and capturing it, whether it is poised or candid, freezes a moment that did not exist for the world before. Composition, choice of subject material - this is creation. Maybe I don't give the shoelaces their texture or the lips their color explicitly, but I do create a unique moment. To do so requires an artistic eye and an artistic heart. So yes, I get to be an artist too.

Or take this argument: anyone could take a picture and call it art. Ha ha ha, au contraire, mon fere! That's like saying anyone could scribble a drawing and call it art. Anyone could cut their finger and call it surgery. Anyone could make a chalk mark and call it construction. The point is, yes, anyone can "take a picture". And that's not always art. But an image that may speak to you - an image where the composition and the subject matter and the lighting and the mood matter? That is art. I dare you to say otherwise.

Photography is art. It melds perfectly long hours and hard-earned technical ability with genuine inspiration and desire to create. What other stipulations must it fulfill?

I'm not saying all this because I don't like the art department. I understand how the kids in the 700s building create art. And the kids in the black box, in the music practice rooms - hey, even the poets in the humanities buildings (or more likely, concert hall foyer). I only want people to understand my art form as being something important too. Something legitimate. I've worked hard on this, despite the fact that a lot of people don't like the time I put into something they see as so trivial. But I'm not without motive. Photography feeds my soul music made tangible, with light I can play like a harp. It's beautiful and inspiring and I work incredibly hard to utilize the medium as best I can.

Give it a chance.

And please please please come to my senior show. It goes up the second Monday of spring term and I poured my soul into it. Everything I owned smells like developer. My hair is in the fixer, and there is fixer in my hair. The least you could do is show up for a moment and say something like "Oh, that's nice."

5. And having poured out my soul, I will now completely undermine all appeal to ethos by admitting my great love (borderline obsession) with Celtic Woman. Yes, really. I'm kinda into the high breathy voices, pastoral, new age-y, fiddles and whispy dresses scene. I'm sensing the onset of Liz Lemon-esque spinsterhood.

4. Also, K-pop. Who knew? Here's my current favorite song:



Um, K-pop Vikings. Need I say more? I feel like, despite the tight clothes and high heels and perfect make up, 2NE1 is still my go-to girl power band. They transcend the stereotypical cutesy-flower-cutesy K-pop scene. They smash things. And you know what? They look fabulous doing it.

3. Really, who doesn't love a good Western?

2. The pups are at The Puppy Lounge while we're in Italy, and I really miss them. There are few things in life that can put you in a good mood the way being greeted by a dog can. Hello! Hello hello we missed you! Please let me bite your toes! I love you! Hello! Rub my belly! Miss Malicious and Captain Underbite. Also known as Alice and Henry. I should write a comic book/Victorian-era novel about them.

1. Italy! I am going there tomorrow morning. I am so excited. This is my maiden voyage to Europe and I can't wait. There will be gelato, and gondolas, and old museums, and general happiness. It will be fab fab fabulous and I just can't wait to go. I'm packing every pair of earrings I own (not much, but still), because I feel like in Europe, you wear earrings. Somehow, this really is the best way I can explain my feelings about the whole thing.

That's amore.