Showing posts with label high school. Show all posts
Showing posts with label high school. Show all posts

Wednesday, January 22, 2014

Designed to eliminate confusion: New name for NFL

Rick Sincere Ripon Wisconsin National Forensics League NFL
Rick Sincere at NFL HQ in Ripon, 2012
News comes from Ripon, Wisconsin, that the venerable National Forensic League is changing its name to the National Speech & Debate Association.

The decision was made by the NFL's board last May.  One of the purposes behind the change in nomenclature was to reduce two separate but equally frustrating forms of confusion:  with the National Football League and with the term "forensics" as crime scene investigation procedures, as if the NFL were the trade association for characters played on TV by David Caruso, Ted Danson, and Gary Sinise.

To be fair, the term "forensics" derives from the courtroom rhetoric used by lawyers to prove their case beyond a shadow of a doubt.  Eventually this grew to encompass all the tools used by law enforcement and prosecuting attorneys, from fingerprints to DNA analysis as well as deductive reasoning and argumentation.  Orators and debaters laid claim to the word before the maggot-studying scientists started to use it.

In an FAQ on what used to be the NFL's web site, the reason for the rebranding is explained:
As a communication organization, we need to effectively communicate who we are and what we do. There is a common misunderstanding of “NFL” or “forensics,” including confusion with the National Football League or crime scene investigation; changing our name to focus on the activity of speech and debate will appeal to more students, coaches, alumni, sponsors, and the general public. We believe rebranding the organization as the National Speech & Debate Association will help us strengthen existing relationships, build new partnerships, increase national and local support for speech and debate, and allow us to pursue our mission to the fullest potential.
I have written on previous occasions about the positive impact speech and debate have had on my life and career.  Participating in debate through Marquette University High School's Webster Club and coaching younger debaters at the Georgetown University Forensics Institute (there's that word again) for three summers gave me analytical skills that I use every day.  Writing a blog post is not so different from writing a debate brief.  There just aren't as many bodies piled up on the podium, and you don't breathlessly tell your readers to "pull that across your flow."

It's too bad that popular culture has seldom offered a realistic view of speech and debate.  (Even the well-received play, Speech & Debate by Stephen Karam, is off the mark.)  Films like Thumbsucker and Listen to Me deserve thumbs up for effort but raspberries for accuracy.

The only recognizable portrayal of competitive speech on the high school circuit I have found is in James Magruder's novel, Sugarless.  In a brief review of that book in 2010, I wrote:
I don't read much fiction, in general, but when I received a review copy of James Magruder's Sugarless late last year, I simply could not put it down.

It has been almost a year since I read the book, but I still think about it because it resonates with my personal experience so much: not in every aspect, but hitting a sufficient number of points on the matrix to make me believe it.

Sugarless is the story of Rick, a 15-year-old high school student in suburban Chicago during the mid-1970s who, almost purely by chance, ends up on the speech team and finds out he has a talent for dramatic interpretation (or dramatic interp, for those in the know).

Magruder's verisimilitude about high school forensics struck me more than anything else in the book, even the parts about the protaganist's struggle with coming out as gay in an era far less accepting of that than it is now. His descriptions of the scenes at speech tournaments are amazingly accurate, and his portrayals of coaches and competitors are eerily familiar to me.

The one detail that other readers might find difficult to believe is the choice of the protaganist's speech coach to have him do an excerpt from Mart Crowley's play, The Boys in the Band. People unfamiliar with high school forensics may think that a play about gay men would be off-limits, especially in 1976, and especially in the American Midwest.

The truth is, a cutting from The Boys in the Band was circulating at that time, and my own coach asked me to do it. For reasons unrelated to the content of the piece, I ended up doing a different selection. (If I recall correctly, it was the courtroom scene in A Man for All Seasons, a far more conventional choice.) So I can testify against the doubters that an excerpt from The Boys in the Band was, indeed, being performed on the high school forensics circuit in the mid-1970s.

Having just seen the excellent documentary about Crowley and his play, Making the Boys, at the Virginia Film Festival, my memories of reading Sugarless earlier this year and my own experience in high school rushed back to me.
I recommend Sugarless to anyone who has competed in speech and debate or to anyone who was once a gay teenager. It's an excellent book, and a compelling read -- a real achievement for a first-time novelist, even one who, like Magruder, is an accomplished playwright and translator.
I would love to see Sugarless on screen, although I doubt that's likely to happen anytime soon. Too niche; too talky; too gay -- but delicious all the same.

Having mentioned Sugarless, I should also note Mark Oppenheimer's relatable, readable memoir, Wisenheimer: A Childhood Subject to Debate. Oppenheimer portrays accurately the debate environment in which he competed, but that was not policy debate under the auspices of the NFL or the NCFL (National Catholic Forensic League). It was, rather, a self-contained regional circuit populated by New England prep school teams, different from the kind of debate people tend to encounter elsewhere in the country (Upper Midwest, Texas) and even in today's urban debate leagues. My review of Wisenheimer was published in December 2010.

While old-timers like myself may feel the rebranding of the National Forensic League into the National Speech & Debate Association (no approved acronym or abbreviation ) is a rejection of the organization's historical roots, at least it is an accurately descriptive moniker for the group.  It requires no more explanation than what can fit on a business card.

A final note:  it was announced earlier this month that the policy debate topic for the 2014-15 school year will be "Resolved: The United States federal government should substantially increase its non-military exploration and/or development of the Earth's oceans."

Ocean policy got me into college and was one-quarter of my master's degree -- but those are stories for another time, another day.




Thursday, November 21, 2013

From the Archives: 'West Side Racist?'

In a recent commentary on controversies surrounding sports team names, Winston Jones wrote in the Douglas County (Ga.) Sentinel:

Our society has gotten too picky and thin-skinned so that too many people are offended by too many things. And too many people are running circles around themselves to try to be politically correct on everything. Don't take life so seriously.
That's the point I tried to make in an opinion piece I wrote 14 years ago in reaction to complaints about a New England high school's production of West Side Story. The article appeared on November 21, 1999, in the Daily News of Bowling Green, Kentucky, under the headline, "West Side racist? - Objections to classic play is a sad commentary on our times." The only other place it is available on the Web is here.

This text, however, is more accessible.

- - -

Word comes from Amherst, Massachusetts, that some students and parents object to a planned production of the classic 1957 musical play, West Side Story, at the local high school. They are insisting that it be canceled.

The local newspaper, the Daily Hampshire Gazette noted in its Nov. 11 edition that a petition presented to the school board with over 150 signatures states: "The play continues to generate negative stereotypes of Puerto Ricans in society and perpetuates the racism that we as students have been working so hard to eliminate in our school and community." Other complaints cited the play's use of violence as a way to solve problems.

This is yet another case of ill-informed cultural critics failing to see the forest for the trees. Anyone who has seen West Side Story - or performed in it - cannot help but be touched by its message against prejudice and violence. The message is not subtle. It is not hidden. It is not difficult to grasp.

Like a previous protests against such literary works as Mark Twain's Huckleberry Finn and Harper Lee's To Kill a Mockingbird, the complainers seem not to understand that in order to present a theme that condemns racial prejudice and stereotyping, it is necessary also to present unsavory characters and dialogue that express the ideas and conditions to author wishes to condemn. Because these types of protests are successful, students are denied an opportunity for fruitful exploration of some of the complex and sad problems faced by our society.


West Side Story is itself based upon an earlier classic, William Shakespeare's Romeo and Juliet. In its original concept, it was called East Side Story and its focus was to be on a conflicted Catholic-Jewish relationship. As creators Leonard Bernstein, Jerome Robbins and Arthur Laurents (and later Stephen Sondheim) moved forward on the project, they became aware of the tensions in Los Angeles between Americans and Mexican immigrants and in New York's West Side between native English speakers and recent migrants from Puerto Rico. They decided to reset their play in this environment.

But does it "perpetuate stereotypes"? Does it inflame racial or ethnic tensions? Hardly. As Ethan Mordden notes in the chapter on West Side Story in his history of the Broadway musical in the 1950's, Coming Up Roses, "West Side Story is about real people: real life, real love and something is possible, for all the despair."

In Amherst, one alumna said the possibility of her high school presenting West Side Story is "humiliating." A parent, Elizabeth Capifali (a doctoral candidate in the multicultural education at the University of Massachusetts), called it "a very racist play" that is "replete with racial discrimination, creating negative images of Puerto Ricans and poor European immigrants."

Which European immigrants? The characters in the play are all "Americans" - but the ones who speak English and originally lived in New York come off looking much worse, morally speaking, than the Americans who speak Spanish and come from Puerto Rico. It is the "Anglos" who are unwelcoming, disrespectful and hostile toward their new neighbors. It is the "natives" who would rather fight the Puerto Ricans than work and play alongside them. The "natives" are blustery Archie-Bunkers-in-training, with a violent, gangster-like bent. The Puerto Rican characters - also Americans, as they don't hesitate to remind us, and their adversaries - simply want to make a better life for themselves. What kind of negative stereotype is that?

Bowling Green Daily News, November 21, 1999
Aside from the play's message, which can only be missed by someone wearing blinders and earplugs, it is a landmark of the American stage that deserves to be seen and performed by young people who wish to be culturally literate.

West Side Story was cutting-edge in 1957, yet seems somewhat old-fashioned today. (This was my reaction to a London revival earlier this year [1999] that recreated the original production, including the sets and costumes.) Still, students of the theatre recognize its innovations: in music and lyrics, in its focus on young people to the exclusion of adults, in its daring realism in a medium that relies on fantasy. Its progeny include Fiddler on the Roof, Cabaret, Sweeney Todd, and Ragtime. To deny members of the Amherst Regional High School community an opportunity to participate in, observe and learn from West Side Story is petty and barbarous.

We can only hope that the level-headed faculty, students, and school board members stand up to these philistines. The show must go on.

- - -

For more discussion about West Side Story, check out these videos of a post-screening discussion about the movie from the 2008 Virginia Film Festival.

Part I:


Part II:







Tuesday, July 20, 2010

Remembering 'Freaks and Geeks'

Today is actor John Francis Daley's 25th birthday.

That may not seem to have much significance except that, ten years ago this month, a TV series in which he played the central character, Freaks and Geeks, had the last of its original episodes broadcast on NBC, the network that launched and rejected it.

It happens that Freaks and Geeks, which lasted not even a full season on NBC, is having a resurrection on IFC, the Independent Film Channel, where episodes can be seen on Fridays and Mondays at 11:00 p.m.  It is also available in at least two DVD editions.

Freaks and Geeks is not significant just because it was well-written, well-directed, and well-directed (see below) but also because it sparked the careers of some of today's biggest TV and movie actors, most of whom have become members of Judd Apatow's repertory company, appearing in movies like The 40-Year-Old Virgin, Superbad, Forgetting Sarah Marshall, and Pineapple Express, among many others.  It should come as no surprise that Apatow was one of the co-creators (along with Paul Feig) of Freaks and Geeks.

In addition to Daley, who is best known today for his featured role on Bones, the young actors who got their big break in Freaks and Geeks include Seth Rogen, James Franco, Jason Segel, and Linda Cardellini.  There were also some who appeared once or twice during the season but did not have featured roles, such as Ben Foster, Jason Schwartzman, and Shia LeBeouf.  (Note for trivia buffs:  Becky Ann Baker, who played the mother of Daley and Cardellini, also played Mary Flynn in the Arena Stage's 1990 revival of Furth and Sondheim's Merrily We Roll Along.  I saw that show twice.)

When Freaks and Geeks met its demise in July 2000, I wrote an elegy for The Metro Herald.  It seems a bit hyperbolic in retrospect but, at the time, it was a tribute to a show that seemed unduly destined for oblivion.  (The article shows its age in the way in which Web site addresses were presented.) 

This first appeared on Friday, July 14, 2000:


FREAKS AND GEEKS: QUALITY TV, DEEP-SIXED
Rick Sincere
Metro Herald Entertainment Editor

Last Saturday night, the final curtain fell on one of the 1999- 2000 television season's highest quality new shows. America is poorer for it.

The critically acclaimed Freaks and Geeks never found its audience. A large part of the blame must be put on NBC programmers, who seemed to treat F&G with a special disdain. Early in the season, they scheduled the show on Saturday night, television’s great wasteland. No one watches TV on Saturday night, and certainly not those most interested in watching a drama about teenagers and their lives.

Preempted frequently during its first foray into our homes, the situation became worse in January, when NBC put the show on Monday nights, and then proceeded to preempt it with other programming for two out of every three weeks. Consequently few viewers found this delightful creation. By March, Freaks and Geeks was simply, unceremoniously canceled.

Why was F&G treated so badly? Why was it never given its proper chance to work its way into America’s heart?

Perhaps the reason is that it was well-written, well-directed, and well-acted. Strike that: Freaks and Geeks was probably the best-written, best-directed, best-acted show of its drama in this or any other season. And American TV audiences reject the best.

How else can one explain the “success” of such phony voyeurism as Survivor or of the tedium of Who Wants to Be a Millionaire??

For those unfamiliar with Freaks and Geeks, a few words of description. Set in 1980 and 1981 in suburban Michigan, the story revolves around the Weir family father Harold (played by SCTV's Joe Flaherty), mother Jean (Becky Ann Baker), 15-year-old daughter Lindsay (Linda Cardellini), and 14-year-old son Sam (John Francis Daley). The other characters are friends of the Weirs, their teachers and counselors at school, and others who come in contact with their world.

More than any other drama, the creators of Freaks and Geeks—primarily Paul Feig and Judd Apatow, but meaning no disrespect to any of the other writers or producers—have simulated the world in which teenagers really live. These kids are real in the way that other TV kids are not: they are angst-ridden, to be sure, but they also experience the joy of discovery that comes with growing up. They are not smarter or wittier than their parents, but they recognize their limitations and wish to overcome them. As for the parents, Flaherty and Baker, in particular, portray the genuine concerns and anxieties of two people (in an intact family, no less—no divorce, widowhood, or single-motherhood here) raising teenagers at the end of an era of uncertainty. At the same time, their pride in their progeny shines through.

Sam and his friends (the “geeks” of the title) are freshmen in a large suburban high school, trying to fit in while simultaneously finding and maintaining their own identities. Fearful of being outcasts, they overLook their good qualities (Sam, for instance, is a bottomless pit of adorability hut he doesn’t know it; and he and his friends are quite intelligent, although they are unable to appreciate those gifts) while seeking to emulate the less-admirable qualities of the “popular” kids.

Lindsay, an academic star, rebels against her nature by hanging out with the “freaks” of McKinley High, exploring her own feelings while discovering the humanity of the people who formerly would neither associate with her nor expect her to associate with them.

Freaks and Geeks is realistic without descending into mawkish naturalism. The actors are uniformly perfect for their parts, although a few seem uncomfortable in their skins at first. After a few viewings, it suddenly becomes clear that these characters are supposed to be uncomfortable. They are, after all, teenagers, still coming to terms with life and unsure about what they should be and what they will become.

Themes were treated with a certain maturity, as well. The producers dealt with such questions as drug use, cheating on tests, pushing the limits of parental discipline, the dangers of misdirected practical jokes, and pornography in a non-didactic, matter-of-fact way that only added depth to the show as a whole. There was no preaching, and topicality was treated as integral—or sometimes peripheral—to the plots of each episode.

Moreover, the direction was blessed with a fine sense of detail. This extended to the costumes and props, of course (letting us know we are in the late Carter administration, not the Clinton years), but was most evident in the choice of music on the soundtrack, which included Rush, the Charlie Daniels Band, Ted Nugent, KISS, the Grateful Dead, Cheap Trick, and Gloria Gaynor, just to name a few—and not to mention the theme song by Joan Jett. (Can there be a CD soundtrack on the horizon?)

Fortunately, despite the asininity of NBC programming, Freaks and Geeks developed a devoted following. It has a presence on the Internet—including the official producers site, http://www.freaksandgeeks.com, and the official NBC site at http://www.nbc.com/freaksandgeeks, as well as unofficial fan sites at http://www.gbdesigns.com/freaksandgeeks/ and http://homes.acmecity.com/tv/hockey/596/ and http://geocities.com/freaks_and_geeks_fanatic/index.html, to name just a few—and a recent e-mail from the assistant to co-creator Paul Feig indicated that the producers are considering putting the show on video or DVD soon.

Like Action, a Fox comedy that was too sophisticated for prime time and also met an early demise, the cancellation of Freaks and Geeks demonstrates that both network programmers and the bulk of American TV viewers have no concern about quality when it interferes with ratings. If a show doesn’t skew to the right demographic, it’s destined for the ashcan of broadcast history.

A show like Freaks and Geeks would have had a limited run, in any case—once the teenagers grew up and graduated from high school, there would be no more show. (Witness Beverly Hills 90210 for the past six years if you want proof.) But what a wonderful four years we could have had.

Well, at least we still have Malcolm in the Middle. That Fox comedy, despite its high quality, also draws viewers. Sometimes a good show can be a hit in spite of itself.
Here's a question: Why do so many TV series use the name "McKinley High School" for their settings?

Not only was this the Michigan high school in Freaks and Geeks, it is the Ohio high school (where it makes more sense) in Glee, as well as the California school Miley Cyrus attends on Hannah Montana?

Is the ghost of Mark Hanna working in Hollywood, trying to build a legacy for his protege?

(Note:  This entertainment-related blog post is free of Lady Gaga and Justin Bieber content.)




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Wednesday, October 22, 2008

Unusual Search Terms

It has been a while since I checked into the odd search terms that bring people to this blog. (Those compendiums have themselves proved to be effective bait, as attractive to readers as honey is to Winnie the Pooh.)

In recent days, new readers have found their way here using Google, Yahoo, and other search engines to find out about these topics:

ayn rand's the children's hour

did franklin roosevelt have erectile dysfunction?

does the first amendment protect cindy sheehan

does the first amendment protect political speech

hanson brothers circumcision interview

how would benjamin franklin react to film fantasy about witchcraft

jesuit Thoughts on masturbation

marquette university
gay sex

Pornography in Buena Vista Virginia

sponge bob barr

tyler whitney
sex tape
One unusual search has stood out, not because it is humorous or inscrutable, but because it is unexpectedly frequent. A number of visitors have been looking for an article written by my friend, Mike McGough, some 20 years ago. Then the editorial page editor for the Pittsburgh Post-Gazette (now with the Los Angeles Times), McGough did a piece for The New Republic about the decline of high school debate called "Pull It Across Your Flow."

His article elicited a letter-to-the-editor from me, which in turn led to our meeting for lunch and subsequently a two-decade friendship. It also inspired me to write my own article on high school debate and -- apparently -- it also inspired sociologist Gary Alan Fine to write a whole book on the subject called Gifted Tongues: High School Debate and Adolescent Culture.

At first I thought that a debate coach somewhere had assigned his students to read McGough's original essay, but when I saw that the searches were coming from various locations around the country (and not clustered around one city or state), I decided that hypothesis was groundless.

I am still at a loss, as is Mike McGough. Can anyone out there answer the question of why a 1988 article about high school debate suddenly has such a surge in interest? Both the author and I would like to know the cause.




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Tuesday, April 29, 2008

James J. Unger

Upon opening my copy of The Washington Post this morning, I was saddened to learn of the passing of James J. Unger, who was debate coach at Georgetown University during my high school and college years.

The Post's obituary begins:

James John Unger, a highly successful debate coach at Georgetown and American universities who also was a past director of the National Forensics Institute and an innovative argument theorist, died April 3 at his home in the District. He was 66.
The cause of death is pending, said Leigh Fields of the D.C. medical examiner's office.
Mr. Unger was a national champion debater at Boston College, from which he graduated in 1964, and coached debaters while at Harvard Law School, where he received a degree in 1967. The next year, he became Georgetown's coach. His teams were ranked first in the national coaches' poll five times.
In a 1970s poll of leading intercollegiate coaches and debaters, he was named Outstanding Debate Coach and Outstanding Debate Judge of the decade.
"He had a steel-trap mind, and he taught you strategies that guaranteed steel-trap success," said Thomas M. Rollins, a lawyer and former Georgetown debater.
Rollins understates the case. Although he was of slight physical stature and was nicknamed "The Duck" in reference to his anatine visage, Unger's intellect made him an intimidating presence, especially among the high school students who attended the Georgetown Forensics Institute each summer. He was treated with godlike deference by many of the younger debaters.

The Post article continues:
Instantly recognizable on the Georgetown campus thanks to his usual three-piece suit, bow tie and walking cane, Mr. Unger was, in Rollins's words, "relentless in pushing an argument and in testing any position that you took."
Some people considered him difficult because of that relentlessness -- in debate and elsewhere -- but Rollins said he found him to be "an incredibly kind and generous guy." He recalled that Mr. Unger once bought him a plane ticket home to Houston so he could try to patch up a fractured romance.
Unger also could wield a wicked sense of humor. Here's an example.

When I was coaching at the Georgetown debate institute in 1982, I took seriously the notion that the institute itself was for teaching and honing skills. During the tournament that ended each session of the institute, I would, after judging a round of debate, give a brief oral critique of the debaters and their performance, explaining why I voted as I did.

Healy Tower Georgetown University
After the preliminary rounds were over, all of the debaters, coaches, and judges gathered in the lobby of the Walsh Building on Georgetown's East Campus, so that we could find out which teams had made it to the elimination rounds. Mr. Unger would announce the teams and the judging panels for each round.

As we were milling about, one of the other coaches, Bill Foutz -- who had been a champion debater at Harvard -- rushed up to me with an agitated look on his face. He grabbed me by the collar and pushed me against the wall, saying, "If you give another third affirmative rebuttal to make one of my teams lose, you'll be sorry."

I was caught by surprise and tried to laugh it off, though in truth I was frightened as hell. (Just to explain to lay readers: There are two negative and two affirmative rebuttals in a debate round. A "third affirmative rebuttal" is when a judge expresses his own arguments against the negative in an effort to justify voting for the affirmative team.) By this time a crowd had gathered around us and we were the sole focus of attention.

Moments later, Mr. Unger entered the room and began his announcements for the octofinal rounds.

After naming two teams and a room for a debate, he continued: "The judging panel will be Mr. Foutz" -- murmurs in the crowd -- "Mr. Sincere" -- the crowd began to go oooh! -- "and Mr. Glass. Obviously, Mr. Glass will chair the panel." Everyone -- except, perhaps, for me and Bill Foutz -- laughed.

When we got to the classroom where the debate would be held, Bill and I sat on opposite sides of the room, with David Glass (who was, I think, then at the Bronx High School of Science) sat between us as a DMZ. The round had a few more spectators than usual. Fortunately, the three of us agreed on the outcome, and we all voted the same way. A few minutes after the match ended, Bill Foutz apologized to me for his outburst and everything was calm again. Sometimes debaters and debate coaches get caught up in the anxiety and intensity of competition, and this was one of those moments.

Another example of Unger's wry humor requires some background.

The high school debate topic the previous year (1981-82) was "Resolved: That the federal government should establish minimum educational standards for elementary and secondary schools in the United States." I came up with the idea, based upon research I was doing in the real world -- if the world of Washington think tanks can be described as "real" -- that we should write a case about civil defense education in elementary and secondary schools.

The problem with this idea was that there was little, if any, information available about civil defense education. (There was some material from the 1960s, but nothing recent and little that was usable by debaters.) But I was convinced this could be a winning case.

So I asked Professor Unger, "What do you do when something is topical but so obscure that there is nothing written about it that you can use as evidence for inherency?" He replied that there was not much to do in that situation, other than to intensify your research and find the evidence you need.

My solution: since I had already had one article published on the topic of civil defense -- appearing in the Washington Star on October 10, 1980, months after I submitted it and based on research I did during the summer 1980 forensics institute -- and had subsequently become an officer in the American Civil Defense Association, I could just write another one, with a focus on education, that could be used as evidence to support our case.

And that's what I did. I submitted the article to several newspapers, and it was published in the New York Tribune (a sister newspaper to The Washington Times), just days before the institute tournament. We inserted the appropriate quotations into the case (not citing me by name), held others in reserve for second affirmative and rebuttals, and moved forward.

The case was relatively successful, with two of my teams making it into the elimination rounds. After the last round that one of the teams lost, they told me that my qualifications as a source had become an issue in the debate. The judge from that round added: "Your boys defended you valiantly, but they lost on other issues."

This is a long tale meant to be background of something that happened a couple of years later. As it was told to me, late one night while preparing for a tournament, members of the Georgetown debate team had hit a brick wall, unable to find the evidence they needed to complete a brief they were working on. Professor Unger popped up and said, "Well, why don't we just pull a Rick Sincere?" -- meaning, why not write an article and get it published in a reputable newspaper or journal? I don't think they ever followed through on that suggestion, but just the idea that my name became associated with a new debate tactic was enough to warm my ego.

The Post also notes, almost in passing:
Mr. Unger also was a wily and tenacious tennis player.
Indeed, during the summer and in good weather during the rest of the year, one could find Jim Unger on the tennis courts that once lay between New South Hall and Lauinger Library. (Those courts have been replaced by Village A, an apartment complex for Georgetown students and faculty.) Here is a brief film clip of Mr. Unger playing doubles on a cloudy day with his tennis partner, James M. Copeland, who was then debate coach at Marquette University High School in Milwaukee.



Copeland and Unger were more than tennis partners. For several years, they collaborated on a book, published annually, called Second Thoughts, with the subtitle of each edition referring to that year's interscholastic debate topic. The book contained chapters on debate theory and the topics themselves, but most interesting were the transcripts of debate rounds (usually from one or more of the summer debate institutes) with interstitial comments from the co-authors. They analyzed and critiqued the debate style, the arguments, and the evidence in as thorough a fashion as one could imagine.

(The edition of Second Thoughts published in 1974 was important in my own life, because it was my first encounter with the publishing world. Mr. Copeland assigned me the job of typing up his notes on a form provided by the publisher. [This was long before word processing on computers was even a dream for regular folks.] Not only did I improve my typing skills, but I learned about the requirements for typesetting and I was able to absorb the argument and discussion that would not be available to other readers for months to come.)

It's no wonder that, when presidential debates were revived after a 16-year hiatus in 1976, that Copeland and Unger were chosen by the Associated Press to be judges for the debates between Jimmy Carter and Gerald Ford and between Bob Dole and Walter Mondale.

The Post obituary refers to this stage of Professor Unger's career:
Mr. Unger served as a debate consultant to NBC and ABC and to the Associated Press and United Press International.

In a 1992 debate, he gave high marks to the studio audience. "The people are the winners," he said. "The quality of the ordinary folks asking relevant questions is superior to the politicians trying to answer them."

Four years later, he credited Republican Robert J. Dole with raising the ethics issue in his presidential election debate with Democrat Bill Clinton but faulted the former Kansas senator for not following through. Mr. Unger said that Dole resorted to "shorthand rhetoric" and "catchy phrases" without explaining their importance.

In a 2000 vice presidential debate between Sen. Joseph I. Lieberman of Connecticut, then a Democrat, and Dick Cheney (R), Mr. Unger declared Cheney the winner in a close contest because he came across "as a person and as a professional."
The Post ends by saying that there "are no immediate survivors," but this is only true in a narrow, technical sense. Professor Unger leaves thousands of survivors in the form of students he taught and faculty he hired, many of whom have had extraordinarily successful careers in the public and private sectors (I could list several dozen law professors alone, not to mention prominent attorneys, physicians, engineers, and politicians).

A number of these survivors -- friends, colleagues, students -- have been posting memories on a site called eDebate. A comment attributed to Bill Smelko said, in part:
For many of us who debated in the mid-late 1960’s and 1970’s, Jim Unger was an imposing intellectual giant whose love of competitive success was exceeded only by his capacity to grow debate as an activity, and encourage in student competitors an abiding love of and for the activity. Many of today’s finest coaches and teachers at the High School and College levels can trace their roots directly to Professor Unger and/or the Georgetown Institute of the early-late 1970’s.

The number of debaters who Professor Unger helped on their way to law school and graduate programs includes former debaters from not just Georgetown, but also from a variety of colleges and universities across the country. I was very lucky to have met Jim, been judged by him often, known him as a mentor and also to have been his friend. I last saw Jim during a visit to the GDS Tournament a couple years ago and even then, as his health was deteriorating, my visit with him was memorable for me because of his unfailing sense of humor and ever present memory of great times past and of the great people who he called friends.
One of these friends, Dr. Arthur Kyriazis of Philadelphia, posted some of his own memories at a eDebate. This one stood out for me:
Were it not for Georgetown Debate Institute, and Prof. Unger, I would never have improved at debate, and without improving at debate, I would never have gotten into Harvard, and without Harvard, my whole life would have been different. Consequently, it's fair to say that Georgetown and Unger opened the first set of doors that set me on the path that led me to Harvard, to law school and later to success in life.
Elsewhere on the same site, in a post dated April 4 (a day after Unger's death but weeks before it was reported in the Washington Post), Laurence Tribe wrote:
For most of us during the crucial decade and a half starting in the mid-1970s - the decade in which many of us came of age or settled into our lifetime careers - Jimmy Unger WAS debate, debate as high art, debate as ritual, debate as relentless analysis, debate as bloodless battle. He lived it, breathed it, epitomized it, enjoyed it, perfected it, practiced it, and made it a permanent part of our lives. For all of that, and for the inestimable wit and twinkling wisdom that Jimmy exuded for so many years, we will all owe him a huge and permanent debt. May his memory live forever in and through those of us who cared about him and who were lucky enough to be his friends.
The outpouring of memories on eDebate is amazing. John Bredehoft (who was Bill Foutz's debate partner at Harvard, and who attended the Georgetown Institute the same two years that I did, during high school) adds:
For those of us who entered the debate community in the 1970s (my debating years extending from 1972 through 1980), Jim Unger was at first a remote overarching presence, then a valued and respected colleague. He was unexpectedly witty, occasionally sardonic, but never cruel or intentionally disheartening. We admired his brilliance and his intellectual honesty (while at the same time, as high school students at the Georgetown summer institute, conspiring to evade his parietal
rules). My life as it is today would be unthinkable without having debated; my debate experience would have been unthinkably different, unthinkably inferior, without Jim Unger's enthusiasm. I did not know him as well as many but I am saddened beyond words by his passing.
David Glass (whom I mentioned above) has a lengthy post explaining why Unger was so important in the development of academic debate, both theory and practice. (The split between "hypothesis testing" and "policy making" as debate paradigms may be too much to explore here, now, but I recommend Glass's analysis to those with deeper interests.) He concludes:
As a person, Unger was quite idiosyncratic. Some people loved him; others could not abide him. I always found him to be incisive, independent of mind, and unexpectedly hilarious. I still remember this small incident during the elimination rounds of a high school tournament that he was running. In those days a large audience watched the final round (people stayed for it, and the audience was filled for this particular final). Most of the students found him to be rather intimidating, but when he asked this one kid to call the coin before this round, the kid said "headsies". Everyone looked at Unger expecting him to cringe or something. But Unger just walked over to the coin, looked up at the kid and called out "tailsies"… cracking up the audience… I guess it is just surprising when you find out that a supposed giant is a normal person…. He was always there for me…. when a play I wrote was produced, he was in the audience; when I needed some advice on career alternatives, he was there. I did not debate for him, but I felt as though I was one of his students. He was a good mentor, and a true friend.
It has been more than 20 years since I last encountered Professor Unger. That would have been when I judged a few rounds at the National Debate Institute at American University -- as it turns out, the last time I was engaged in the debate world in any formal way at all. Still, learning about the death of James J. Unger makes me feel sad. The culture of high school and college debate is diminished by his departure.

Wednesday, January 23, 2008

A Poignant ‘Glory Days’ at Signature

This past Sunday night I saw a new musical at Signature Theatre in Arlington, Glory Days, with book by James Gardiner and music and lyrics by Nick Blaemire. Here is my review for The Metro Herald:

A Poignant ‘Glory Days’ at Signature
Rick Sincere
Metro Herald Entertainment Editor

Do not be misled by Glory Days, the title of a new musical now having its world premiere at Signature Theatre in Arlington, with its allusion to a hit song by Bruce Springsteen.

Springsteen’s first verse tells of a middle-aged man, drinking in a bar, reminiscing ruefully of his time as a high school sports star. The four characters in Glory Days (the musical) are brought together through quite the opposite experience: failing to make the school’s football team their freshman year.

What Glory Days (the musical) and “Glory Days” (the rock song) have in common is a theme of nostalgia for an earlier time. The contrast cannot be clearer, however, because the characters in Springsteen’s song are all well-past high school and the characters in the new musical by Nick Blaemire (music and lyrics) and James Gardiner (book) are only a year past graduation. One wonders, superficially, what these young pups have to be nostalgic about. On deeper reflection, however, one finds a painfully accurate portrayal of what the interior life of a teenager is like, and how much that interior life is influenced by relationships with his peers.

Glory Days also has a thematic connection to Merrily We Roll Along, the venerable (if flawed) Stephen Sondheim musical that opened Signature’s current season. Both plays are meditations on friendship and its meaning. Both plays portray the fault lines that can develop between (and among) friends. Both plays express a yearning for having a life “like it was” (in Sondheim’s phrase) and a regret that “things are different” (in Blaemire and Gardiner’s version). As an exploration of friendship, however, Glory Days succeeds in ways that Merrily We Roll Along fails.

Musically, the two shows could not be more different, and though it would be cruel to contrast the efforts of neophyte songwriter Blaemire with those of the mature Sondheim, it would be also be fair to note that the music in Glory Days is rather homogenized, with any one song indistinct from the others. The sameness may benefit the young cast, however, because while the music is not very challenging to a singer, the clever and sometimes rapid lyrics can be. Blaemire’s score is a bland mix of pop, folk-pop, and commercial jingles without any stand-out selections. This is not to say the score is bad. It is, in fact, pleasant and does the job it is intended to do.

That job is to provide an opportunity for each of the four boys (some more than others) to express their interior monologues in a theatrically acceptable way. The choice to musicalize these texts is one that makes much more sense, dramatically, than to take the route that few playwrights other than Eugene O’Neill can do without seeming stilted and unconvincing. (And even O’Neill faltered more than once.)

Glory Days takes place in real time: Four high school friends, now 19 years old, meet on the bleachers of the football field after a year away at college and on the night before a big alumni football match. One of the boys suggests a prank to play, to get back at the jocks and preps who made such fun of them during their school days. This is the closest that Glory Days gets to a traditional plot, for the play is not so much about what happens exteriorly as what is happening to each of the boys interiorly.

What Blaemire and Gardiner get, just-so, is the sense of nearly every adolescent that, even if he is as normal as one can be, he is either abnormal or extraordinary. (Bob Fosse dealt with the same set of issues in Pippin more than 35 years ago, in a far different manner and with a much more memorable score by Stephen Schwartz that included the songs “Corner of the Sky” and “Extraordinary,” expressing that adolescent angst precisely and humorously.) The four boys of Glory Days believe they were misfits without knowing that virtually all their classmates and teammates believed the same thing about themselves.

While Glory Days is an ensemble piece, the story (such as it is) really centers on Will (Stephen Booth), who is alone on stage when the play begins and again when the play ends. Will is a diarist who writes about his pals and his relationship/s with them – he has secretly been keeping a journal about them since they met, expressed in song in “My Three Best Friends.” Will is also the instigator of the plot – he has invited his friends to join him on the football field at midnight so that they can relive their high-school friendship after a year of being apart.

It is here that the story strains credulity, simply because Glory Days is set in the present. How is it possible that four friends in the era of email, Facebook, and txt msgs could have been incommunicado with each other for a year? In 2008, teenage friends are in constant communication with each other, regardless of where they might have traveled to college.

Had Blaemire and Gardiner chosen to set this play in the not-so-distant past – even as recently as the early 1990s, but perhaps more believably in 1978 rather than 2008 – this problem would not arise. With a few minor adjustments, directors of future productions of Glory Days should endeavor to fix this.

Moving past that minor glitch, the “three best friends” arrive, and each of them is a distinct personality with an individual story to tell. Will and Andy (Andrew C. Call) have been college roommates, but know each other none the better for that fact – revealed in the song “We’ve Got Girls,” in which they dispute each other’s successes and failures on the playing field of love and lust.

In “Open Road,” Jack (Jesse JP Johnson) brings tension to the quartet when he reveals, subtly yet decisively that, after dropping out of college and taking a month-long road trip, he has discovered he is gay. Learning this, Andy feels lied-to and betrayed, but tries to keep his anger under wraps for as long as he can.

The most “adult” of the four is Skip (Adam Halpin) who, in college, has abandoned his straight-edge previous self (his father a military officer, Skip was in Junior ROTC for four years) for what the other boys call a “hippie” look. To us, Skip appears quite clean-cut but the reaction of his friends tells us that his moderately long hair seems to be in a different universe than that of his crewcutted, high-school self.

The four actors playing these roles are perfectly suited to their characters. No doubt director Eric Schaeffer worked with them long hours to help them create back stories for each boy. (These back stories are intimated in a two-page spread in the play’s printed program, meant to suggest a high-school yearbook, with autographs and listings of activities, favorite songs, and quotations.) All four deserve commendation, but Booth’s Will gives the play its heart.

Will fears growing up. Although he is just 12 months past graduation, he has idealized high school as a carefree time even as he remembers himself (and his three best friends) as misfits, alienated from the rest of their classmates. Neither recollection is entirely accurate, of course, and the conflict between these two visions is what animates the discord among the four friends. It is within this dichotomy that Blaemire and Gardiner have captured so perfectly the anxious yet hopeful psychology of the late teenager. (That this inner conflict applies so particularly to smart, creative types may be why it took a team of 23-year-olds to write and compose this show.)

When it comes right down to it, Glory Days is a likeable show. I liked it. Despite its imperfections, I can foresee Glory Days having a successful future in the repertoire of college and community theatres. With its four-person cast, its small instrumental ensemble (keyboard, guitar, drums, and bass, here under the direction of Derek Bowley), its single set, and a running time of under 90 minutes, it is ready-made for theatrical companies on a tight budget that want to showcase their young (and male) talent.

Not every small company will be able to replicate the amazingly simple yet evocative set by James Kronzer and terrifically effective lighting design by Mark Lanks, but most should be able to approximate the contemporary, generic-yet-individual costumes designed by Sasha Ludwig-Seigel. Signature’s design team has set the bar high for future productions.

On their first outing, the team of Nick Blaemire and James Gardiner may not see themselves immediately proclaimed the next Kander & Ebb, but they prove that they are competent and talented enough to produce more, and more complex, works in the years to come. (They have also written a second musical, called Millennials, not yet produced.) To paraphrase the master, “Here’s to them! Who’s like them? Damn few.”

Glory Days runs through February 17 at Signature Theatre, 4200 Campbell Avenue, Arlington, Virginia. For more information, visit www.signature-theatre.org. Single tickets for the world premiere of Glory Days are on sale through Ticketmaster at 703-573-7328 and through www.signature-theatre.org.

Addendum: Peter Marks reviews Glory Days in Friday's Washington Post; that newspaper earlier ran a small feature on the show's costume design choices. Jayne Blanchard gives her take on the show in Friday's Washington Times, while Metro Weekly's Tom Avila posted his review on Thursday.