Ableism

A·ble·ism [ˈābəˌlizəm] noun: discrimination in favor of nondisabled people. Ableism can come in the overt or  ‘obvious’ ways, like bullying, exclusion, or hate speech, but more commonly in spaces like high school debate it manifests through subtle microaggressions. These might include dismissive comments, assumptions about ability, or thoughtless critiques, many of which go unnoticed or unaddressed. Debate, at its core, encourages the expression of ideas, yet disabled participants are often sidelined and undervalued because of factors completely beyond their control.

To get more insight, we interviewed junior Chloe Swidler competing in Policy about her experience debating with a stutter and an anonymous interviewee competing in Public Forum about their experience with disability in general. It is also important to remember disabilities are vast and can be anything from physical, mental, visible or invisible. Additionally, this is only a small scope of personal testimony, and if you would like to share your experience, we would love to hear it. 

Firstly, even preparation looks different for disabled debaters. Chloe explains, “My preparation process before a tournament looks different than my peers. To stutter less during rounds, I practice speaking each position numerous times. While some of my friends can read a new position that they haven’t seen before with ease, a lot more work goes into my speaking than others might see.” This difference in preparation is often invisible to others. It’s important to recognize that disabled debaters are already working uphill before we even speak. Debate literally rewards arbitrary points for “clarity” or “speed,” which is understandable on a broader scale, however those with speech-related disabilities are frequently penalized for things they can’t fully control. The assumption that all debaters start from the same baseline ignores these extra burdens. She adds, “In debate, it is very easy to compare your competitive success to others, but I have to remind myself that my journey in debate will look different than others because of my stutter.” 

Unfortunately, oftentimes others in the space may forget this sentiment. She continues, “Every time a judge tells me I would stumble less if I just slowed down or an opponent tells me a speech was unflowable, I feel overlooked. While maybe I would be slightly clearer if I slowed down, there is an expectation in debate to spread. In response, I do more drills and focus on developing my understanding of arguments to compensate for my stutter.” While seemingly obvious, it is important to remember how these disabilities are involuntary, and are almost always more frustrating for the person experiencing them than for anyone on the outside. The anonymous interviewee agrees, commenting that, “it’s often embarrassing” to ask for the same treatment from opposing teams. For disabled debaters, even asking their competitors to slow down, send analytics, or other accommodations feels “dehumaniz[ing]”. Empathy and simple understanding goes a long way in making the space more inclusive.

Lastly, she makes an important point about the growing use of disability-related arguments in debate, particularly around topics like spreading consent theory. “My biggest issue to tackle right now is for people to stop reading and passing on consent theory. It drives me insane when people who don’t stutter or have a processing disorder use people with disabilities as a shield. The theory argument devalues the hard work of people who stutter in debate, weaponizing other people’s struggles for their personal success.” There is also a great article about this broader trend on our blog titled “Argument Desensitization”. Specifically, citing disabled people as a rhetorical tool, especially by those who don’t share that experience, can be harmful. While arguments about ableism and accessibility can be powerful advocacy tools, they should not flatten disabled people into a monolith or be used opportunistically.

Debate holds incredible potential to be transformative and inclusive, but that only happens when we actively challenge the systems of bias, both overt and micro, that still exist within it. The voices and stories of disabled debaters like these are not only valid but vital in shaping a more conscious and kind community. Debate should not be a place where “ego[s]”, of both judges and debaters, prevent people from taking disabilities seriously. Debate should be a place where inclusivity means more than just being able to participate, but also being heard, respected, and understood for the full range of your experience. Whether you’re a fellow debater, judge, coach, or something else, remember: awareness is the first step but action and empathy must follow. Everyone should be treated with “normality” because no one is lesser than another.