“I don’t want you to go into the city at night, there are scary black men that make it dangerous,” my mom would tell me.

“Your tan makes you look like a n****”, my dad commented.

I never truly grasped the flaws within these statements, nor was I aware of the lethal impacts racism plays on society – let alone as an issue. Debate changed all of that. Policy debate is a prestigious and competitive activity in which students, mainly in high school and college, research and then discuss issues on a predetermined topic. Teams of two then compete by arguing in favor of a certain position and are declared winners based on their ability to speak and articulate their perspective better. However, to me, that's what debate was.

My first year of policy debate was spent weighing the pros and cons of implementing hypothetical federal policies, as it was considered the traditional debate strategy. Because, as a novice, I had yet to fully grasp the nuances that would make an argument that deviates from this norm effective. When my novice year came to an end, the summer before sophomore year led me to an institute at Michigan State University where I focused on the argumentation and skills of policy debate in hope to become more successful in the activity. One of my lab leaders, Chris Randall, opened my eyes to what debate is and what debate can be. As a student who debates for a public school in an environment surrounded by excessively blessed private school students, my identity as an Asian American became all the more vital and purposeful. Chris, a black man who utilized his identity as a tactic to speak truth, taught me to be proud of my identity and with it, create eye opening arguments with pedagogical purposes. Following in my mentor's footsteps, debate transcended into an activity to tack onto my college application, and became a medium through which I could not only educate myself on concepts of higher knowledge, but also educate others. If anything, debate became an intellectual symposium almost where my partner, Rik, and I could use our voices to expose the racial systematic flaws of the United States Federal Government.

As I soon emerged as a competitor that used the debate space to discuss race and identity my sophomore year, debate was no longer just a debate. My opponents' reactions to the topics my partner and I argued ranged from gratitude and respect of the language we engaged in, to resentment and hatred. In one particular instance, the quarterfinals round of GFCA Varsity State, a once distinguished judge, Aurelia, told me that I cannot talk about black suffering because I am not black. After the round was over, she bashed my identity, my abilities, and told me to stay in my own lane. My debate coach, Mr. Bancroft, was furious with her “decision” of voting against us, because rather than a well thought out reasoning, she spent 30 minutes roasting everything we stood for. Going home that night, the long car ride dragged on as silence pervaded, and my devastation over that round left me brooding over the silenced issues my partner and I presented. At the end of the tournament, the other two judges of that round told Rik and I that Aurelia’s comments should not hinder or prevent us from discussing issues we felt passionate about, rather motivate us more to push for the coalitions we anticipated. By now, debate has become a diaspora in which there is much more to an argument than simply right or wrong. From a young age, I can remember my mom telling me to engage in happy and safe activites that give me highs instead of substances like drugs or alcohol, and I found that safe haven in the debate community. 

Debate has been the cornerstone to talk about what identity is and what history means in different perspectives, but it has also played a role in my life and how I perceive society and the world outside of the academic space. Within debate, teams must not only present a problem that needs solving but also argue in favor of a solution to that problem.  Of course while I, myself, cannot completely solve for the harms of systematic racism alone, debate has changed the way I think and my motivation to mention the issue as often as I can. If you are in my literature class, you should probably know by now that I usually always write about racism, so it isn’t an exaggeration when I tell you I use all given opportunities. However, the role of being an educator goes beyond the debate space and school as well.  I may have portrayed my parents as racist people, but in all seriousness, they cannot be blamed for the negative consequences U.S. imperialism has played in formulating Western stereotypes into Eastern norms. My parents have grown up being labeled as a Model Minority and so have I. Eastern people have come to perceive other people of color as people below them, where Western standards like pale skin and “success” become desirable. Calling out these flaws within my family has felt like an obligation, but combatting these meta-level issues is a starting point, which I believe in itself is net better than no starting point.

From not knowing what debate was to being a passionate member in the community, my job as a debater has evolved from being a debater that strives to win awards, to an exemplar that wants others to see the potential in how debate can be used to talk about the messed up things in society that institutions like the government and the media sometimes don’t effectively portray well enough. Within the shootings that occur on a daily, within the hate crimes that make America more hypocritical than ever, and within the racial slurs and comments that come out of mouths, a constant form of confrontation can tell people that what they are saying and thinking is immoral and incorrect. Debate has made my role to be that confronter as a student and family member to expose other students, teachers, siblings, and parents to the gratuitous violence that minorities like myself face because of skin color. And thanks to debate, that confrontation has become and will continue to be my fight and testimony.