This Year, We Need Grace
Sep 23, 2025
Lillian Makeeff-Stetson | 4 min read
If debate is meant to empower student voices, why are so many of us losing our voice in the process? Many debaters (including myself) skip meals, stay up late cramming prep, chug a Celsius, and call it a day—but what is this doing to our physical well-being and, more importantly, our mental stamina? This pressure these students are putting on themselves is not just about “trying your best”, it's about the toxic win-at-all-costs culture we have created within our community. It is not healthy for us to be cramming, depriving ourselves of sleep and food, and relying on energy drinks to get us through the day.
The constant pressure to perform perfectly round after round can and has taken a serious toll on debaters’ mental health. Anxiety often shows up long before a tournament begins, fueled by the fear of disappointing teammates, coaches, parents, or oneself. Burnout follows as the demands of nonstop prep, travel and the weekly competitions pile up leaves students without enough time to rest and rejuvenate before giving their all to a round. As one debater shared, “I love debate, but sometimes it feels like the pressure to win is choking out why I started in the first place.” This isn’t just about nerves—it’s about the deep emotional weight that leaves many feeling isolated, exhausted, and defeated, even when they’ve given their all.
Ian Combs, a sophomore in Bismarck, North Dakota shares how debate is not about learning anymore, but the trophy that comes with it. “I think debate has started to become such a demanding activity, which brings students to push themselves farther and farther.” From the endless hours of preparation, to leaving everything at the door of the round so you perform at your best. Combs continues, “it gets to the point where it becomes less of a way to have fun and learn new skills, but to burn yourself out by making sure the only result you get out of a meet is first place.” Our students are singlehandedly draining themselves at the sight of a trophy. At the feeling of hearing their name called after the eerie, “first place goes to…” Another student recalled how frustrating the preparation was. Countless hours, thousands of google searches, all for an L on Tabroom.
And that's all on a local level; the national circuit kids spend months preparing for their competition. Personally, I went to two practices a week to learn how the nats circuit worked because I have never competed outside of North Dakota. Furthermore I spent two hours a day on a resolution to prepare. All I wanted? My name to be broken to the next round. I was drained by the end of the pre elimination round and when I did not hear that my name broke, I thought about all the hours I put into these topics and I instantly cherry picked what I did wrong.
“I should’ve done more online tournaments…”
“I should’ve asked more questions.”
“I knew I should’ve prepared that amendment.”
What I didn't do is acknowledge all the people I met, the things I learned, and how this opened up so many opportunities for me in the coming years.
Forensics can be draining. Local, or national; it doesn’t matter. We don’t see how many hours our competitors put into their work. We don’t see how many times our competitors lost, or won. This year, we need grace. We, as the forensics community, need to remember that our competitors are real people dealing with burn-out, discrimination, anxieties and the same countless hours of prep into their work as we do.