Most people think of debaters as serious, computer-addicted researchers who love to espouse their opinions.  And, onstage, this is true.  I am one of them.  My fellow Dreyfoos debaters and I pride ourselves on thorough research, effective argumentation, well-thought out logic, quick articulation and competitive spirit.  Competition is fierce within teams and among schools. 

Yes, my Dreyfoos debate loves to argue about the effectiveness of multilateral military efforts.  But, outside the debate spotlight, in hotels far from home and in the cafeterias of completely unfamiliar high schools, we shatter this image with our quirky sense of humor around which we have built a family that is rarely found in the debate community.

Our antics include: extensive spontaneous rapping in between tournament rounds, reciprocal pranking involving toothpaste, water pails and bed sheets. We have even formed our own dialect that combines English with debate jargon and slang.  Our ultimate outlet is the annual Senior Toast, which we plan all year so that we have plenty of material for this 30-minute “roast” that documents the quirks of each senior.

My specialty is providing comic relief through situational jokes, occasional cross-dressing and donning of Disney character costumes.  I was a proud contributor to last year’s Senior Toast, which was widely viewed as the funniest performance in seven years.  As the historian, my specialty is photographing other members in awkward moments, such as sleeping on the bus, mouth wide-open.  Of course, I am vulnerable to the same treatment.  To this day, I regret coming to debate practice with a Minnie Mouse headband in my hair.

After fours years of sharing some intense and crazy moments as a Dreyfoos debater, I am nervous and excited to be on the receiving end of the Senior Toast, although I know it is the ultimate form of flattery and represents the bond that unites our community.