JSA Fall State Convention
JSA Fall State Convention
I came back to Sunny Hills sublimely enlightened, supremely enriched, and utterly exhausted. From the truly talented to the utterly desperate, the mostly informed debaters were entertaining, if not inspiring.
I warn you though, being conservative is committing suicide (much like standing next to Kristin Kreuk) —a political death. We have a generation of suit-and-tie liberals and Democrats readying themselves for government.
I mentioned this and will restate it numerous times more: the magnetism of some speakers surpassed any expectations I may have harbored. As I observed their performances—and it was a stunning show of theatrics—I sat in mental stupefaction, overwhelmed.
Then I thought about it, and became very frightened.
One of the first debates I witnessed was on the subject of nature vs. nurture and whether humans were innately evil or good. The meanings of “good” and “evil” had been left ambiguous; out of necessity the debaters took it upon themselves to define those terms and argue their points from there. No one commented on this development or seemed to mind, but I cannot see how it is logical to be shouting at each other from different floors in a 100-story building.
I reflect on this debate—highly intelligent and stirring as it was—because Reason is the podium of the speaker; it bears the weight of the speech, but it can block the orator from the audience. He uses it to shield himself and his argument; as irrelevant and tarnished as it may be, it is an impenetrable defense when brought to bear against certain personal beliefs and values, such as religion and morality. If those were used as a launch pad, the plane would never take off.
And yet, in the name of introducing his experience and thus reassuring the audience of his credibility, the speaker may slyly insert his extremely personal views as a Reason that they should agree with his points, and that is acceptable.
I will be one of the first to admit that some people grip onto their beliefs with a dogmatic tenacity that is as exasperating as it is dangerous. I nearly crawled under my seat as, during a debate on the legality of gay marriage, a subsequent speaker claimed her rights were being infringed upon; she had the right to be offended. Yes, but the clear retort would be that her rights end with being—she has no right to do, to hinder others in their desires.
On further consideration, absolute terror slashes through me as razor-studded, rusting blades, like the sensibility of their contentions. They do penetrate and cut to the quick; however, the incision is bloody and often forced. The ultimate truth, the overall view, is understandably lost for the debaters in favor of winning; unfortunately and unforgivably, it is forgone by the audience as they applaud a perhaps misguided passion, a single man, rather than a worthy cause.
The point was to acknowledge the best speaker; I understand that; however, I also perceived the eager converts to the path of unrestrained freedom, leading to…who knows where?
In the debate touching on whether the drinking age should be lowered from 21 to 18, nearly every hand struck the air in agreement. In an astonishingly successful attempt to persuade the listeners, speakers equalized drinking with everything from driving to pornography. If those were available and legal, they argued, surely alcohol was no worse. I could employ an illustration of my view on this: I eat a plate of hideously strong spices; I will use these to represent the pressures of stress. My mouth is blazing, but I can tolerate the pain. I decide to take a smoke, literally inhaling and ingesting fire. A nonexistent (and likely to remain so) boyfriend fervently believes that it is time to consummate our relationship. I am worrying about my weight gain and, despite all health evidence, I am avoiding food like the plague (I still like spices). Teachers this year cannot understand my new independence and are unfairly judging me; they want me to a yes-yes baby. My parents keep hassling me to do better than I am, and I have to think of moving out and paying for my own way. The cup is overflowing, but it is more like the toilet flooding. Then I think longingly of a beer. It will be just to calm me. I am certainly no addict. The demands grow heavier, but I know that there will always be a drink to soothe me. Suddenly I experience all the sensations of drunkenness. And in this inebriated state, caused not because of alcohol by itself but alcohol in addition to the strains of my life, I’m preparing for college.
I Heart Huckabees exuberantly croons, “Everything is connected.” The major difficulty, completely comprehensible, is that these issues do make up an enormous puzzle that no one person is able to link. It is impossible to instill in so many people in so short a time the entire image, and yet if we make no effort, we are learning the shortsighted values today that we will believe and act upon tomorrow.
Hesitantly I mention the terrible debacle others may refer to as the debate on funding stem cell research but I call Doomsday. It was a singularly stressful experience; I stood rooted to the floor with a wooden face, jaw moving like a marionette’s, silently and sincerely disliking everyone and everything responsible for this disaster.
It wasn’t, surprisingly enough. As embarrassed as I was by my lack of preparedness and finesse, I am truly grateful for the opportunity. Everyone was so kind that abject humiliation soon vaporized, along with my chance to convince the audience the moment I opened my mouth.
Three themes reverberated through the debating rooms: Progress (with no responsibility for the far future), Detachment (debatable), and Tolerance (as the majority perceives it). Ironically, there is no mercy for the provincial—or the apparently synonymous “conservative”—mind.
In awe, I mention senior JSA President Jay Yoon and sophomore JSA Secretary Eugenia Rho of Sunny Hills. The eloquence and firm grasp of Yoon and Rho on their topics was truly a marvel and joy to behold. My eyes were dazzled, my ears dazed, my legs ... cramped from sitting for so long.
If I may utilize a crass comparison, kindly recall the scene from Pirates of the Caribbean in which Kiera Knightley as Elizabeth Swann glides down the stairs and Orlando Bloom as Will Turner looks absolutely “gobsmacked.” I am the latter, only with feeling and sincerity and actual expression.
What else, what else…On a less intellectual note, seeing well-groomed, educated young men and women politely slaughtering the side of The Other roused the memory of the infamous Miller’s Lite commercial, in the most respectful way) .
My last three words on Fall State. Exhilarating. Humbling. Necessary.
I came back to Sunny Hills sublimely enlightened, supremely enriched, and utterly exhausted. From the truly talented to the utterly desperate, the mostly informed debaters were entertaining, if not inspiring.
I warn you though, being conservative is committing suicide (much like standing next to Kristin Kreuk) —a political death. We have a generation of suit-and-tie liberals and Democrats readying themselves for government.
I mentioned this and will restate it numerous times more: the magnetism of some speakers surpassed any expectations I may have harbored. As I observed their performances—and it was a stunning show of theatrics—I sat in mental stupefaction, overwhelmed.
Then I thought about it, and became very frightened.
One of the first debates I witnessed was on the subject of nature vs. nurture and whether humans were innately evil or good. The meanings of “good” and “evil” had been left ambiguous; out of necessity the debaters took it upon themselves to define those terms and argue their points from there. No one commented on this development or seemed to mind, but I cannot see how it is logical to be shouting at each other from different floors in a 100-story building.
I reflect on this debate—highly intelligent and stirring as it was—because Reason is the podium of the speaker; it bears the weight of the speech, but it can block the orator from the audience. He uses it to shield himself and his argument; as irrelevant and tarnished as it may be, it is an impenetrable defense when brought to bear against certain personal beliefs and values, such as religion and morality. If those were used as a launch pad, the plane would never take off.
And yet, in the name of introducing his experience and thus reassuring the audience of his credibility, the speaker may slyly insert his extremely personal views as a Reason that they should agree with his points, and that is acceptable.
I will be one of the first to admit that some people grip onto their beliefs with a dogmatic tenacity that is as exasperating as it is dangerous. I nearly crawled under my seat as, during a debate on the legality of gay marriage, a subsequent speaker claimed her rights were being infringed upon; she had the right to be offended. Yes, but the clear retort would be that her rights end with being—she has no right to do, to hinder others in their desires.
On further consideration, absolute terror slashes through me as razor-studded, rusting blades, like the sensibility of their contentions. They do penetrate and cut to the quick; however, the incision is bloody and often forced. The ultimate truth, the overall view, is understandably lost for the debaters in favor of winning; unfortunately and unforgivably, it is forgone by the audience as they applaud a perhaps misguided passion, a single man, rather than a worthy cause.
The point was to acknowledge the best speaker; I understand that; however, I also perceived the eager converts to the path of unrestrained freedom, leading to…who knows where?
In the debate touching on whether the drinking age should be lowered from 21 to 18, nearly every hand struck the air in agreement. In an astonishingly successful attempt to persuade the listeners, speakers equalized drinking with everything from driving to pornography. If those were available and legal, they argued, surely alcohol was no worse. I could employ an illustration of my view on this: I eat a plate of hideously strong spices; I will use these to represent the pressures of stress. My mouth is blazing, but I can tolerate the pain. I decide to take a smoke, literally inhaling and ingesting fire. A nonexistent (and likely to remain so) boyfriend fervently believes that it is time to consummate our relationship. I am worrying about my weight gain and, despite all health evidence, I am avoiding food like the plague (I still like spices). Teachers this year cannot understand my new independence and are unfairly judging me; they want me to a yes-yes baby. My parents keep hassling me to do better than I am, and I have to think of moving out and paying for my own way. The cup is overflowing, but it is more like the toilet flooding. Then I think longingly of a beer. It will be just to calm me. I am certainly no addict. The demands grow heavier, but I know that there will always be a drink to soothe me. Suddenly I experience all the sensations of drunkenness. And in this inebriated state, caused not because of alcohol by itself but alcohol in addition to the strains of my life, I’m preparing for college.
I Heart Huckabees exuberantly croons, “Everything is connected.” The major difficulty, completely comprehensible, is that these issues do make up an enormous puzzle that no one person is able to link. It is impossible to instill in so many people in so short a time the entire image, and yet if we make no effort, we are learning the shortsighted values today that we will believe and act upon tomorrow.
Hesitantly I mention the terrible debacle others may refer to as the debate on funding stem cell research but I call Doomsday. It was a singularly stressful experience; I stood rooted to the floor with a wooden face, jaw moving like a marionette’s, silently and sincerely disliking everyone and everything responsible for this disaster.
It wasn’t, surprisingly enough. As embarrassed as I was by my lack of preparedness and finesse, I am truly grateful for the opportunity. Everyone was so kind that abject humiliation soon vaporized, along with my chance to convince the audience the moment I opened my mouth.
Three themes reverberated through the debating rooms: Progress (with no responsibility for the far future), Detachment (debatable), and Tolerance (as the majority perceives it). Ironically, there is no mercy for the provincial—or the apparently synonymous “conservative”—mind.
In awe, I mention senior JSA President Jay Yoon and sophomore JSA Secretary Eugenia Rho of Sunny Hills. The eloquence and firm grasp of Yoon and Rho on their topics was truly a marvel and joy to behold. My eyes were dazzled, my ears dazed, my legs ... cramped from sitting for so long.
If I may utilize a crass comparison, kindly recall the scene from Pirates of the Caribbean in which Kiera Knightley as Elizabeth Swann glides down the stairs and Orlando Bloom as Will Turner looks absolutely “gobsmacked.” I am the latter, only with feeling and sincerity and actual expression.
What else, what else…On a less intellectual note, seeing well-groomed, educated young men and women politely slaughtering the side of The Other roused the memory of the infamous Miller’s Lite commercial, in the most respectful way) .
My last three words on Fall State. Exhilarating. Humbling. Necessary.
