Speech & Debate is often described as the “great equalizer.” All you need, we’re told, is your voice, your ideas, and the willingness to work hard. In theory, that makes speech & debate one of the most accessible academic activities a school can offer. In practice, that promise collapses the moment you look at who is actually supported and who is left behind.

We often hear about inequalities between large schools and rural schools; however, similar disparities exist even among large schools themselves. I come from a Texas 6A Title I school. On paper, that means a campus with thousands of students. According to the University Interscholastic League (UIL), which governs academic and athletic competition in Texas, a high school must have more than 2,215 students to be classified in the largest competitive bracket. In reality, that designation does not guarantee adequate resources. Instead, it often means low funding, limited administrative support, and an extracurricular system stretched thin.

Speech & Debate exists at my school not because it is prioritized, but because students and a coach refuse to let it disappear. The assumption that size equals resources is one of the most damaging misconceptions in education. Large schools can be just as underfunded as small ones — sometimes even more so and debate programs in these environments feel the strain immediately.

One of the most overlooked barriers in competitive debate is financial access. According to Dani Scantlin, a fellow EIF writer, “competing in speech and debate is costly, overwhelming, and troublesome”—so much so that a competitor’s focus can shift from advancing in their event to simply “not breaking the bank.” Additionally, the cost break down by Dani show cases the immense cost of almost 3,000$ a tournament for even a smaller sized team. Another EIF contributor anonymously published an article sharing a first-hand story illustrating just how deeply cost barriers affect students. Remarking, “We ended last school year over five thousand dollars in the red”. While noting the inequity of their theater program which had a budget of 100,000$. This contrast underscores a critical reality: access to competition is often tied not to student effort or financial need alone, but to institutional prioritization and administrative support. Even within the same school, some activities are fully subsidized and protected, while forensics programs are left to struggle for survival.

Title I funding exists to support low-income students, but it is not a complete solution. According to the Brookings about 60% of U.S. public schools receive Title I funds intended to help close achievement gaps, yet inequitable spending persists with economically disadvantaged students receiving on average hundreds of dollars less per pupil than their advantaged peers in many districts.

The struggle begins before a single round is debated. Tournament fees, travel costs, judge obligations, and lodging expenses add up quickly. For well-funded programs, these costs are absorbed by district budgets, booster clubs, or parent networks. For Title I schools, like mine they are barriers. When a school board sees speech & debate as optional rather than essential, funding becomes inconsistent or nonexistent. Students are left fundraising for basic necessities, or simply not attending. Opportunity becomes conditional on personal finances rather than merit.

Administrative support, or the lack of it, compounds the issue. Principals and school boards often praise debate in speeches about “college readiness” and “critical thinking,” yet fail to back those words with action. Requests for fundraisers are denied. Excused absences are questioned. Practice space and is taken away for “higher priority” activities. Coaches are overloaded, underpaid, or expected to volunteer their time indefinitely. The message is subtle but clear: debate is appreciated rhetorically, not institutionally.

This absence of support creates a culture where underfunded teams must fight simply to exist. Students become advocates not just for their cases, but for their program’s survival. While competitors from wealthier schools spend weekends refining strategy, Title I debaters are writing emails to administrators, negotiating funding requests, and explaining again why their activity matters. That additional burden is invisible on ballots, but it is felt deeply by the students carrying it.

The competitive consequences are real. Competitions reward access: access to camps, private coaching, prep databases, frequent tournaments, and experienced judging pools and even teammates who can teach. Underfunded teams are often locked out of these advantages through no fault of their own. When results lag behind, the narrative becomes one of “lack of effort” rather than lack of resources. Students internalize losses as personal failures, not systemic inequities. Over time, that discouragement drives talented voices out of the activity altogether.

Yet the greatest loss is not competitive; it is educational. Speech & Debate is one of the few spaces where students from marginalized backgrounds can learn to articulate their experiences, challenge power structures, and develop confidence in their voices. Data from Education Next shows that participation in debate is associated with measurable academic benefits, including higher high school graduation rates and increased college enrollment, particularly for students with lower baseline academic performance. Notably, Education Next also reports that Title I students often have the most to gain from debate, yet receive the least institutional support to access it. When schools neglect these programs, they are not merely underfunding an extracurricular; they are silencing students who deserve to be heard.

The irony is that administrators and school boards frequently claim budget limitations as justification. But debate is not prohibitively expensive compared to many athletic programs. The issue is not cost alone it is prioritization. When debate is viewed as a luxury rather than a core academic activity, it is the first to be cut and the last to be defended.

So what does a solution look like?

First, school boards must formally recognize speech and debate as an academic program rather than a club. This distinction is not symbolic. Academic recognition creates access to stable funding, staff stipends, and institutional protections that clubs rarely receive. Debate develops research literacy, public speaking, critical reasoning, and civic engagement the very skills schools claim to prioritize. If these outcomes are valued, institutional treatment must reflect that commitment.

Second, principals must serve as advocates, not gatekeepers. Administrative support is not always a budgetary issue. It often means allowing reasonable absences, ensuring fair access to facilities, and publicly affirming the legitimacy of the program. When school leadership treats debate as a serious academic pursuit, that message sets out the tone for teachers, parents, and students alike.

Third, qualifying tournaments should establish a progressive pricing model. Teams with more funds should pay higher fees than those with less funds. This is a simple way to allow more individuals across a spectrum of socioeconomic background to compete while keeping funding for the activity sustainable.

Finally, the qualification pipeline itself must be expanded to include state-level forensics tournaments. These competitions already serve as the highest level of debate accessible to many students, particularly those from underfunded or geographically isolated schools. When state champions and top finishers are excluded from national qualification consideration, the system implicitly privileges students who can afford to travel the national circuit over those who succeed within their state’s most competitive forums.

State tournaments are not less rigorous; they are simply more accessible. Many feature deep competitive fields, experienced judges, and months of cumulative performance evaluation. Allowing state champions, finalists, or season-long point leaders to earn partial or full national qualifications would preserve competitive standards while dramatically widening access. It would recognize excellence where it already exists, rather than forcing students to chase qualification through costly travel.

Indeed, the Texas Forensic Association (TFA), could be in the process to make speech & debate more fair and equitable. Under Proposition 1, students who win the UIL state championship automatically qualify for the TFA State Tournament. This model demonstrates how existing competitive pathways can be leveraged to expand access. Similarly, the national circuit could implement parallel frameworks that allow students who qualify through recognized state-level competitions to earn opportunities to compete at the national level.

Speech & Debate exists to teach students how to challenge power, interrogate systems, and advocate for change. It is time those principles are applied inward. Talent should not be lost because a school board failed to invest. Passion should not be penalized by circumstances. If debate is serious about equity, it must ensure that students from underfunded schools are not disadvantaged before they ever step into a round.

Speech & Debate should amplify voices and not filter them by funding and lack of administrative support; overall, these challenges are faced by schools of all sizes small and large.