Before anything, I’d like to note that writing and putting out the words below was an incredibly difficult decision. Consequently, the writing below may feel verbose to some, but I don’t think I’ll ever be able to perfectly articulate these thoughts. Despite the length, this is about a fraction of my experience that I have convinced myself I am comfortable with sharing. Like me, others will experience difficulty discussing their experiences and I hope for those reasons that good comes out of this writing and that the words below are taken seriously and to heart.
In middle school, I used to look at tournament schedules and track down what slot of the spreadsheet marked “lunch” or “break.” The precious half hour (maybe an hour if you’re lucky) that tournaments decided to give us to go out with friends we see once a month and take a break.
Then, COVID hit. Tournaments were switched online and for a while, those breaks stayed built into some schedules. It’s not like we would be going anywhere, but there was still a period of time designated for us to forget about the rounds we have just had and remember to be a human again.
Suddenly, tournaments went back to in person and those highlighted slots seemed to be nonexistent. Rounds were back to back for single-flighted tournaments, and even in double flighted tournaments where there was technically space in between, debaters would spend the time cutting new cards, making prep outs, or trying to figure out their next pairings.
This article goes beyond the work culture that debate itself perpetuates - rather, it is a comment on debate’s tendency to put lunches, and consequently, the health of debaters, on the backburner.
I want to share an anecdote because I think it illustrates well what I am about to talk about.
Struggling with eating is experienced differently and this anecdote is meant to illustrate an example from my personal experience. I have no intention of going into unnecessary detail or pointlessly describing behaviors. I’ve purposefully chosen this example as I know this post may reach a variety of audiences. Second, there is a reason the anecdote feels messy. There is no one part of this anecdote that I want to highlight. The point is that the environment broadly represents (physically and emotionally) what I am discussing.
Recently, I did pretty well at a tournament, felt I had reached a milestone in my career, and that my hard work had somewhat paid off. Nonetheless, ‘hard work’ wasn’t limited to hours of prepping and drilling. My body was overworked and fatigued to a debilitating extent.
I debated a total of 12 rounds this tournament. I returned home with a trophy, but also with a body that was dangerously lighter and a heavily disturbed gut. It was nearly impossible to debate as my ears were ringing, my stomach was rumbling, the world was spinning, and my entire body was exhausted. I don’t really know how to put this feeling in words - it’s not just being tired, it’s being deprived of the ability to function properly.
In one of our rounds we hit a team we knew and one of them mentioned that she was dizzy and hadn’t eaten in a bit so I chose to give her my granola bar so she could debate our round properly.
I do not regret this decision at all; I know firsthand how hard it is to debate hungry and I truly care about the girl on this team. But it also meant I would have nothing to eat for the day. The bar was meant to be my fallback if I thought my debating could be affected. More importantly, the fact that in a room of four debaters at least two had not eaten all day is not normal.
Throughout this tournament, I received multiple unsolicited comments about my body and food which made eating even harder than it already was for me. Whether in casual passing or targeted jokes, I seemed to be surrounded by reminders.
Before the most important elim, I was increasingly dizzy and was running on a single energy drink. I had also gotten less than 3 hours of sleep the night before and my body already held little to nothing from the first two days. Standing up to give the speech felt like I had just run 10 miles - and not in the good way - and flowing consumed more energy than moving a pen across paper should. This round was one of the most demanding rounds I have ever debated.
We eventually lost this elim on a 2-1. I don’t think we lost because of my lack of energy - it was a round we should have lost, but I am certain that the round was harder for me in ways that had nothing to do with the flow.
Even after the tournament, my body continued to experience the consequences of that weekend. The loss of a round I was meant to be proud of forced me to look back at the whole tournament and consider whether the trophy I was holding was worth what I had experienced all weekend. Namely, my body fighting to stay alive. At the moment, I felt like it was worth it - and that is precisely the problem.
I would like to emphasize that the above is not meant to encourage any of these behaviors. In fact, quite the opposite. I know those who are reading this probably care about debate, as do I. But it is so easy to care more about debate than one’s health, which is a dangerous line to cross. To eating, I have lost so much more than a round.
As mentioned above, this anecdote was chosen specifically to illustrate how multiple seemingly harmless factors in the debate space have created these issues - I am aware that it may be perceived as trivial by some. However, I would like to make something very clear: this one anecdote is obviously not representative of my whole experience and others’ (nor I do not believe sharing an increasingly triggering story would help me explain or an audience understand). The reason so many individuals do not speak out is largely because of their community’s tendency to require the sharing of insanely triggering stories or changes that are noticeable to eyes that aren’t trying to notice in the first place to be taken seriously.
Moreover, disordered eating is oftentimes hidden and embedded within this community. That being said, the decision to ask for help, or even attempt to articulate these experiences is incredibly difficult and should be approached with empathy. My experiences are far more comprehensive than this anecdote, but I am also certainly not the only one who has had experiences like the one above. Disordered eating is a real and dangerous problem that this space continues to ignore and perpetuate, and the longer the community fails to recognize it, the longer the community continues to fail struggling debaters.
It’s disappointing to see that many of these experiences are normalized. I texted my school friends after tournament and I briefly mentioned how I had no lunch break. My non-debating friends’ shock reinforced my thoughts that dangerous behaviors are conventionalized and encouraged in this community.
I have participated in a myriad of extracurriculars, and debate is one of the few in which nutrition and necessities that quite literally keep competitors alive are considered to be less important than success in the activity. Teams that reach elimination rounds oftentimes prioritize prepping and cutting new cases, consequently actively neglecting eating or simply forgetting to.
Watching back on the recording of the round noted above, it isn’t obvious I am struggling and this is also part of the problem. I have gotten pretty used to acting like nothing is wrong, especially in round. Debate is largely perceptual, the room was stuffed full with spectators, and the round was recorded. It was a high-pressure round, and the last thing I wanted was to appear weak in a room full of people, especially with people quite literally being paid to judge me.
It’s important to mention that part of this is to point out that while there are certainly clearer factors that result in the neglect of eating in debate, many are forced and almost subconscious as a result of how the activity and tournaments are structured, as well as the normalization discussed above.
Besides the work culture that surrounds debate, tournaments, as mentioned before, have made it structurally difficult to eat. There are rarely tournaments with built-in lunch or dinner breaks. Many of these are justified by double flighted rounds. But because of debaters’ need to continue prepping, if there is no explicit time to eat and forget about the topic, the decision to eat falsely feels as though it is a detriment to tournament success. While not an end-all solution, allotting time that is meant for eating allows debaters to separate the time in their head and promotes the beginning of a healthy balance.
Although this anecdote was from a tournament I happened to do well at, which is why I was originally prompted to think so hard about the tournament, this problem is prevalent in pretty much every tournament I have attended. To be clear, my discussion is about the community and tournaments as a whole, not this specific tournament. Especially for those already struggling with their body or disordered eating, the environment that debate has created makes it even harder to recover. Don’t get me wrong, I care a lot about how well I do at tournaments. But these issues have made an already difficult-to-begin journey feel as though it comes at a hefty price of sacrificing tournament success.
Besides the fact that our team pretty regularly competes, meaning a massive culmination of tournaments, even single days in single tournaments have resulted in massive setbacks for me. The seemingly trivial decisions that are made or considered harmless have reversed weeks of delicate progress. Despite my love for the activity, these setbacks make debate incredibly difficult to engage in and make the decision to keep going increasingly harder to make once more.
Not eating is also especially glorified if it is in the place of prepping. There is a false notion that surrounds many debaters: more prep = better debater. In reality, a lot of debate is not reliant on the prep, especially in an event like PF. This is not said to dismiss prepping, all teams do it and probably should - it’s an important educational aspect of debate. However, especially for those with previous struggles, the glorification of skipping meals and endless prepping is harmful; it is much easier to conform to this toxic work culture than it is to disagree for those with pre-existing reasons to sway away from eating.
Of course, not all debaters who choose to skip a meal experience disordered eating. There are also a lot of misunderstandings I hear and experience myself; people will tell me to just ‘remember to eat’ or ask if I ‘ever get hungry.’ These comments miss that there are fundamental barriers to simply ‘putting yourself first.’ The environment I have observed for years has allowed disordered eating to develop and thrive - and for those already struggling, made those difficulties worse.
Finally, the act of debating is made incredibly difficult. Besides the physical demand, mental barriers impede things like critical thinking necessary to win rounds. Nonetheless, there exists a ‘push through’ culture that ignores the nearly impossible internal conflict many will face. Struggling with food makes an already academically challenging activity even more difficult, especially when the activity itself continues to be harmful.
As someone who genuinely enjoys debate and loves the activity, it is discouraging to feel as though my progress needs to be reversed to achieve a level of competitive success.
I could go on for a long time about how debate itself perpetuates the lack of eating and makes those struggling with disordered eating struggle even more, but I want to address something else for a moment.
Debate is an intellectual and communicative activity. Ironically, for an activity that emphasizes discourse, I continue to observe a lack in discussion surrounding eating. ‘Good’ debaters tend to appear perfectly normal and focused on debate, but personal discussions, experiences, and observations of mine have revealed that staggering stamina continues to affect debaters. Even discussions about eating in relation to debate risk becoming shallow, with statements that debaters simply need to ‘remember to eat’ or that they should step away from the activity. Crucially, such statements ignore the way in which the community glorifies self-neglect in exchange for Ws. Besides the fact that debaters shouldn’t have to leave the space to stay healthy, most debaters are in the activity because they want to be successful. Yet, the environment created makes the choice to prioritize one’s well-being incredibly difficult, especially for those already struggling. Even those who know there needs to be change find themselves in a community that places more emphasis on collecting ballots. The first step to addressing these issues is talking about them, even when many have already labeled them taboo.
This is exemplified by my very own thought processes while writing.
I was initially very reluctant to put my name on this article - I didn’t want to be seen as ‘the debater who complains about debate’ or be considered any less of a debater. But these exact thoughts are proof that there is something wrong in the community; discussions are uncomfortable and sometimes censored, but such avoidance is exactly why debaters continue to feel physically drained after tournaments and dangerous behaviors are prevalent.
It would be an understatement to say I’ve thought about everything said above and below for a while, but I have never put my thoughts into writing until now. I recognize this writing is vulnerable and that I am taking a risk in publishing it but what’s more important is this change and unspoken uncomfortability is needed in a space that continues to overshadow important issues.
I also recognize that this was a little disorganized, but I think it keeps this post authentic. At this moment, I have decided to stop editing and let go of the imperfections in this post. I have a lot of thoughts on this topic even when I shouldn’t have to; participants should not feel as though their activity has further entrenched their struggles and then have to live with a silent community. Regardless, I’ve tried to organize my thoughts above and hope it is somewhat cohesive.
I have continued to uphold faith in the community and have witnessed change occur within debate in the past. I hope that these discussions also come around to eating and that this writing is a step towards the right direction.
Whether through silence or jokes, people struggle differently. But for all, reaching out for help is incredibly difficult. I encourage the community to start small - you never know who needs the extra text or call that day. Even if there isn’t an immediate reaction, realize your words and actions matter (in both good and bad ways). For me, it was always the one person who noticed and reached out that made the difference that day.
If you are struggling, have similar anecdotes, possess parallel feelings, or have struggled in the past, know you are not alone. It is scary and real, and your feelings are valid. My friends will call me a hypocrite for some of the writing above, and they’re right in that sometimes I don’t follow my own advice. But I’ve done a lot of thinking as to why this is and tried to articulate it above. The environment you are in has not made it easy to prioritize your health, and it is not abnormal to find it challenging to talk about your situation with others.
I hope this post has inspired other conversations or at the very least, some thinking. Even if it hasn’t, or this post is skimmed over and ignored, I think it is important that this information is out there. My words above are obviously not all-encompassing, but a start is a start.