Out-Aura'd or Out-Performed. It's two different questions, yet our answer to both is nearly always the same.

Forensics mirrors our lives in many ways, yet the one most parallel is the high esteem we place on results. Beyond being the world's largest academic competition, the NSDA has become a place for many to satisfy their desire, quench their emptiness, and find purpose through competition like no other.

But the nature of this activity surrounds placing results and comparative success on a pedestal. That's my concern. We have taken away the heart of Speech & Debate; the platform to express ourselves, find ourselves, and advocate for not only us, but bring awareness to the struggles most often overlooked. The activity I once thought was about advocating for those underrepresented has turned into using those same sensitive topics merely for appeal and results.

Ranking people's voices, kids' opinions, and pieces directly from our hearts limits them to just a number. Sadly, that number becomes the value of our voice, it decides whether we continue to share at all. The nature of the activity is centered around the best, the last one standing, the ones gifted enough to stand on the stage.

We’ve replaced it. The purpose of this program was supposed to be using our voice, not to find the value of it. We’ve constantly made the results of our pieces, the reflection of who we are, and others in return. The competitive aspect of this activity has corrupted us, bringing us to respect those on the stage so highly and unable to view ourselves the same way. We place them on a pedestal so high, we literally think they’re above us.

This rank-based nature and relentless ambition to win has consumed us all, and I don't blame you. It's hard to watch someone perform on the stage of your dreams, receive the praise that comes with a victory, and know that the effort you poured in wasn't enough. We place so much significance on results and trophies that we allow them to determine our own significance.

Our performances may be ranked, but we are not. It's time we all recognize this.

The level we reach in this activity has become synonymous with the level we value ourselves in life. We see it constantly on the national circuit, someone is crowned victorious, and instead of viewing that as just a result, we make it the value of that person. Prestige amongst tournaments has turned into the honor of our lives. Subconsciously, we attach every result to someone's character. If their rank is better than ours, so are they.

When competing, we forget entirely about the things that make us who we are. If the results aren't what we expected, we don't just feel disappointed, we become that disappointment.

Our performances used to be the platform we used to express ourselves. Now, they aren't viewed for the message, but for the trophy. And when that's all we see, we think that's all someone is. The result alone becomes the lens through which we view them–and their worth.

Even though we may not realize it, it hinders us. Somewhere along the way we forgot that we're just high schoolers, dressed up in a costume pretending to be a congressman, or a squirrel in an HI, or talking to six other kids our age in a classroom where hundreds of students have been yelled at by their teacher before. Yes, this activity is amazing, it has changed my life, and I cannot imagine where I would be without it. But success here is not the value of our lives.

It may be our dream, our goal–I know for sure it is mine, but the thing I hope we all realize is that those do come true. And though you may have a trophy to put in your room when you do, you'll be the same person you always were: a passionate, ambitious competitor with the same coach, same teammates, and same love for debate you've always had.

We place the biggest names on the circuit on pedestals–we view them with more respect, value, and worth than ourselves. We tell ourselves that when we achieve that final round, that stage performance, that victory–only then can we finally appreciate ourselves. But trust me, the value you give others for their results, even if you achieve them yourself, you'll never give to yourself.

Inevitably, you're going to feel like an imposter if you keep doing this. There is always one more step to take, one more thing we haven’t done, we will always want the “one more”. But if we keep valuing others over ourselves based on results, we'll never believe in ourselves. Believing in yourself is the first step.

Every person you admire on the circuit was in the same boat you were. They started out with the same passion, same love and same desire for greatness in this activity you do. The only difference is… They knew that. Once you realize that all these champions had no special gift, no innate ability, no edge we don’t have–you can make the decision to be better than them. 

The risk isn't wanting it, the risk is putting all your self-worth on one outcome you can't fully control. In forensics, you can give the best performance of your life and still lose. Judging is subjective. Brackets, rooms, and competition all play a role. So if your mindset is "I'll be confident once I final". What happens if you miss by one rank? What if you final but don't win? What if you win, and a week later, it starts to feel normal again? There will always be something more to chase.

It's just a speaking activity. We are kids, 14-18 years old, in suits, waking up early, going home late, running on barely any sleep and constantly refreshing tabroom. Every person you admire is still in this activity for the same reason you are, whether you realize it or not. Regardless of their success, they have been in your shoes before.

Which also means they're in the same boat you are now. If you recognize a name in your round, if they've been on a stage you haven't, if they've beaten you before– it doesn't matter. When the round starts, nothing else matters other than your performance. Do the best you can. That's the only thing in your control.

I've seen kids at my school who were the quietest, most introverted people on the bus– nothing about them screamed state champion, and they didn't think so either. But I watched one of them look at the performances of the people he'd placed on a pedestal and realize what I hope you'll understand too. These people, regardless of what they've won in the past, are just people. This kid ended up winning one of the biggest tournaments on the circuit. All it took was recognizing that the value of his competitors didn't matter the moment the round began.

I spoke to him after, and what shocked me was that even he couldn't believe it. He told me he'd spent so much time watching final rounds, checking his competitors' records, studying who won each major– he couldn't believe he'd beaten them. And the most remarkable thing? He was still the same shy guy making the least funny jokes on the bus ride home.

The balanced truth is this: yes, that moment will feel incredible. Yes, you deserve to chase it as hard as you can, but no, it won't permanently fix how you see yourself. Lasting confidence comes from knowing you showed up fully, seeing your own growth over time, and respecting your effort regardless of placement.

Sure, the trophy is sensational. But the confidence and value we have for ourselves doesn't switch when we win the prize we've always dreamed of– it happens when we appreciate who we are, for who we are. Outside the activity, beyond the trophies, it's just you. You're allowed to value yourself on the journey toward your goals, and love who you are for even trying.

Think of it this way, there are two versions of you: "I am confident because I finaled" or "I am confident because I know what I'm capable of – final or not." I'm not telling you to stop chasing it. Chase it. Seriously. But don't make the deal with yourself: I only get to be proud of myself if I make it. You've already put in work most people wouldn't even attempt. That matters now, not just later.

A trophy doesn't give you your aura — it was always yours.

These people you put on pedestals, they are just that. People. The moment you detach yourself from results and start appreciating who you are, there will always be failures and mistakes, but they should never define you. Comparison has long been the thief of joy. But if we stop fantasizing and start appreciating, we can finally pay respect to the person who needs it the most.

You.