The Filtered Judgement

In the common classroom setting held for the amazing speech and debaters, for many, the main goal is the final stage, but to get to that final round, you must first deal with out-rounds. It is in these rooms that the very best performances and powerful topics filter through. However, when we perform in these rooms, we must look in front of us and consider who is sitting there, typing on their laptop, filling out their ballots, and ultimately deciding our outcome in these crucial rounds. Seemingly, and from lived experiences, a pattern emerges from these situations: a consistent lack of diversity among judges, particularly a dominance of white adjudicators, many of whom function less as open-minded critics and more as a filter of what is considered “acceptable,” “relatable,” or “worthy.”

This is not about attacking white judges. It's about recognizing that when diversity is missing in these higher, more competitive rounds, it affects which stories get valued, whose emotions are seen as genuine, and which performances are seen as worthy of winning. Too often, students, particularly students of color, pour their hearts into pieces that are a reflection of their identities and something they strongly connect with, and they do amazing with their performances. Yet, these pieces hit an invisible ceiling in out-rounds, not because they lack quality, but because they do not pass through a filter of comfort upheld by judges who may not see themselves in the stories being told. To be clear, minority students do make it to finals. We do see powerful, diverse performances on final stages, but more often than not, it’s the strongest survivors who get there. The ones who knew how to code-switch just right. The ones who learned how to “translate” their identity into something palatable. Their success should be celebrated, yes, but it also reveals a system that often rewards performers who adjust to the judges' expectations over those who stay true to themselves.

A clear example of this filtering issue showed up in a few of the 2024 NSDA semifinals rounds where a full panel of white judges oversaw a round filled with culturally layered and emotionally rich performances. The result? The results showed highly inconsistent rankings, ballots that contradicted each other, and no explanation provided after the final outcomes, which really left many wondering: how could a round that strong, with that much preparation and passion, result in outcomes that felt so disconnected from the work shown? The answer doesn’t lie in the students; it lies in the evaluators, the judges. We must ask why, in possibly the most important rounds of the year, there was not a single judge of color in the room that could have essentially related to the experiences of the performers in those rooms. And more importantly, why this continues to be seen as acceptable.

It’s also worth asking: why do we often save the best judges for the final round? Why do final rounds at places like Harvard, in events like DI and Info, come with more diversity in judging, while every round before that feels like you're just trying to survive, wondering if the judge even sees your experience, and then having it all questioned in a ballot? Students work just as hard to get to finals as they do in finals. A judge's focus and capability shouldn’t start at the trophy round; it should be present in every room that determines who gets there. A strong, diverse judging panel in finals is important, but it's also just as important as the ones in quarters and semis because that’s where the road either opens or closes for many. This isn’t to say we don’t need white judges; we absolutely do. White judges are just as important as any other. But if we are going to push for diversity among competitors in the final stages, we must also demand diversity in our judging pool at every level. We need to give judging opportunities to people who truly understand the work being performed and are committed to engaging with it, not overlooking it.

But an even larger filter is put in place, which is the presence of lazy judging, those who treat the round as a casual obligation rather than a responsibility to honor the work in front of them. When a student has spent a lot of effort to put the work in to perform, they deserve to be judged by someone who is intentional and informed. A lazy ballot, or a generic comment like “good job,” not only fails to give useful feedback but it erases the labor that went into that moment. And when this laziness results in a loss for these hardworking competitors, it sends a dangerous message: that your work means nothing if your judge isn’t paying attention. Out-rounds should not be a filter of assimilation. They should be a celebration of differences. Until judging becomes as diverse and purposeful as the students performing, we as a community meant to grow will keep losing some of the brightest voices through this disruptive filter before they ever have a chance to be heard.