Showing posts with label Marquette High School. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Marquette 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.




Friday, January 15, 2010

Images from Milwaukee's Marquette High c. 1952

Through the magic of eBay, I recently acquired the 1952 edition of The Flambeau, the yearbook of Marquette University High School in Milwaukee.

This particular volume caught my eye because the 1951-52 school year was the last one that my father attended MUHS.  (Today would have been his 76th birthday.)  I was also interested to see if I could find a photograph of legendary broadcaster Tom Snyder, who graduated with the class of 1953.

I scored on both counts, but also found a few other interesting things.

For one, it seems that virtually nobody at Marquette High in the early 1950s -- whether students, faculty, or staff -- had first names.  Some people in the yearbook were identified with a first initial, if they shared a surname with someone else.  The only people with first names were those who shared both a surname and first initial with another person.  So, for instance, my dad is identified simply as "Sincere" and the future host of NBC's Tomorrow Show is identified as "Snyder."

I also discovered that there were faculty and staff members at MUHS who spanned the period from 1952 to 1977, the year I graduated.  These included math teachers John Fountain and Laurence Kelly, S.J., librarian Miss Elizabeth Connelly, and English teacher Father Richard Forrey, S.J.  (I have an even earlier -- 1927 -- Flambeau that has a photograph of Mr. Fountain as a young teacher.)

By sheer coincidence, I found two MUHS graduates of the class of 1952 who later achieved prominence in their closely-related fields.


Tad W. Guzie became a Jesuit priest, theologian, and liturgist.  He later was laicized and married, passing away in 2001.  Juxtaposed on the same page as his graduation picture is a photograph of John M. Haas, who also became a theologian, specializing in bioethics.

This particular yearbook belonged to James Voell, who became a psychiatrist in the D.C. area, specializing in the problems of homeless people.

Here is the only photo in the 1952 Flambeau I was able to find with my father in it. He is identified as "Sincere" and is the fourth from the left in the top row:


As for Tom Snyder, I found more than a few mentions of his name.

First, his class photo (he is in the bottom row, far left):


Then I found him as one of the performers in the Prep Players' production of Mary Chase's Pulitzer Prize-winning play, Harvey.  He didn't play Elwood P. Dowd (the role made famous by Jimmy Stewart) but rather was cast as Dr. Sanderson:




In  years past, it would have been difficult to find something as rare as a nearly 60-year-old high school yearbook.  I wasn't exaggerating when I referred to the "magic" of eBay.  The Internet has made possible what we thought was impossible.


Update: The Winter 2010 edition of the MUHS alumni magazine arrived in my mailbox today (March 16) with this note on page 32:
Tom Snyder '53, the radio and late night TV talk show pioneer who often remembered Marquette University High School and the Revs. Jerome Boyle SJ and RJ Connell SJ on-air, paid homage to the school with a recent fift that established an endowed scholarship fund in his name....

The Thomas J. Snyder Endowed Scholarship Fund will help support students who demonstrate financial need and who participate in the arts during their time at MUHS.
The full announcement can be found here.

It wasn't until reading this that I discovered that, not only did Tom Snyder and I attend the same high school (at a distance of about a quarter-century) but we also attended the same elementary school, St. Agnes. (That is, of course, assuming that there has only been one St. Agnes School within the boundaries of the Archdiocese of Milwaukee, the one in Butler.)

Be sure to visit my CafePress store for gifts and novelty items!
Read my blog on Kindle!
Follow my tweets on Twitter!

Monday, October 05, 2009

And Now for Something Completely Different ...

It was forty years ago today -- October 5, 1969 -- that Monty Python's Flying Circus first took to the airwaves on the BBC. A leader in today's Guardian notes:

"I'll give you 13 shows, but that's all," said the BBC's head of light entertainment in 1969, and Monty Python's Flying Circus aired to a perplexed, but eventually grateful, British audience on Monday 5 October that same year. Over the subsequent 45 shows, the rules of television comedy were rewritten as John Cleese, Graham Chapman, Michael Palin, Terry Jones, Eric Idle and Terry Gilliam created lunatic characters and sketches, as funny today as they were 40 years ago.
The Oxbridge-educated group brought silliness and erudition in nearly equal amounts to television sketch comedy. Not exactly sui generis -- the Pythons had roots in pantomime, music hall, and British radio and movie comedies of the 1940s and '50s, as well as the satirical shows at Oxford and Cambridge, the Edinburgh Fringe, and even Beyond the Fringe -- when it reached America via public television, Monty Python seemed revolutionary.

In Milwaukee in the mid-1970s, Monty Python's Flying Circus was played on Tuesday evenings at 10:30 on WMVS-TV (Channel 10), so on Wednesday mornings, the senior lounge, the Blue & Gold Room, and the cafeteria at Marquette University High School were all abuzz with teenage boys imitating and trying their best to recreate, verbatim, the sketches they had seen the night before. It's a tribute to the quality of Python performances that, even after a single viewing, they could be recreated (at least by the smartest ones). Later, when vinyl LP recordings became available, memorization became easier, if a bit less daunting. We would spend hours on "The Argument Clinic," "Dead Parrot," and, among many others, "The Spanish Inquisition." (Bet you didn't expect that!) For a sample of Monty Python's influence on MUHS students, check out "Life on Film" from 2007.

It was under the influence of Monty Python -- how else would 16-year-old Midwesterners be introduced to existential philosophers? -- that I and some of my classmates came up with this cheer for the MUHS sports teams (nicknamed the Hilltoppers):
Socrates, Plato, Bertrand Russell
Here we go, Toppers --
Husserl, Husserl!
It might not have inspired anyone to audition for place kicker, but whoever said public TV can't be educational?

Monty Python's Flying Circus is being celebrated all over the web today. For instance, Stephen Beard, a correspondence for public radio's Marketplace, had a report on today's broadcast about how many of the early Monty Python sketches reflected the socio-economic realities of Britain in the 1950s and 1960s.

Entertainment Weekly's Josh Wolk offers "10 Ways Monty Python Changed Comedy," in which he mentions The Whitest Kids U' Know (brainchild of Charlottesville's Trevor Moore and his co-conspirators) in the same breath as Python and The Kids in the Hall.

Michael Saba at Paste Magazine offers four of his favorite Python moments, with videos culled from YouTube.

The Christian Science Monitor notes:
It's Monty Python week on IFC, where the cable film channel marks the 40th anniversary of the cheeky, British comedy troupe. Events will include a six-episode interview/documentary, "Monty Python: Almost the Truth (The Lawyer's Cut)," featuring all of the remaining group members discussing the ensemble's cultural impact and legacy. The week will also include, of course, the classic Python films.
Radio Times has a whole set of Monty Python features, including a collection of Python-related covers, film reviews (for Monty Python and the Holy Grail, Monty Python's The Meaning of Life, Monty Python's Life Of Brian, and Erik the Viking), and a blog post with Terry Jones' favorite Python moments.

And here, ladies and Bruces, from a live performance at the Hollywood Bowl, Monty Python performs "The Philosophers' Song":

"I drink, therefore I am." Now that's a way to get high school boys interested in serious philosophical discourse!



Be sure to visit my CafePress store for gifts and novelty items!
Read my blog on Kindle!

Saturday, June 06, 2009

'Ave, Greenwald': MUHS Latin Teacher Retires

Thanks to Google Alerts, I learned today that Mr. James Greenwald, who has taught Latin at Marquette University High School (my alma mater) since 1968, is retiring as of the end of this academic year.

Jim Stingl writes
on the Milwaukee Journal Sentinel web site today:

Greenwald is retiring from Marquette High after 41 years. He was 25 years old when he arrived at the school in 1968.

"When I started there, every freshman had to take Latin. But that was the last year of that. Then it stabilized at about two classes of Latin I, two classes of Latin II, and one or two advanced," he said.

Many schools have dropped Latin over the years, favoring instead foreign languages such as Spanish and German that you're likely to encounter around here. Milwaukee has just one public school, Rufus King, that still teaches it; it's more common in the suburbs.

I asked this hometown Mr. Chips to make his best case that Latin matters.

"I would say it's no longer the argument that you learn Latin grammar, you learn English grammar, although that's true to a degree. I think it's more a matter of learning the ancient world, mythology, history, derivation of words - that's something I've worked very, very hard at," he said as we spoke in his kitchen last week.
Although I never had the pleasure of being taught Latin by Mr. Greenwald, I had the nearly unique experience of playing him on stage.

In the November 1976 production of Blazing Seniors, the Class of '77's Senior Follies, a musical revue whose conceit was that each scene was a different period of the school day, from homeroom to dismissal, I played Mr. Greenwald as both Latin teacher and Astronomy Club faculty advisor. Note from the two nearby photographs how we dressed alike. (I'm the one in the color photo, with space aliens.)

In our scene, Mr. Greenwald lamented to his class that he had seen a UFO but nobody believed him. (His/my song: "Hey, Has Anybody Seen My Neat UFO?", a parody of the Tony Orlando pop ditty, "Say, Has Anybody Seen My Sweet Gypsy Rose?")

It was for this show -- the one that caused me to fall in love with the smell of the greasepaint and the roar of the crowd -- that I memorized what Monty Python's Flying Circus had identified as the world's most lethal joke, in Latin:
Erant duo homines.
Primus vir dixit, "Meus canis habet nullam nasem."
Alius vir rogavit, "Quomodo olfacit?"
Primus vir respondit, "Atrociter!"
(If you need a translation, you should have taken Latin in high school!)

In his profile article, the Journal-Sentinel's Stingl quotes one of my classmates at Marquette High:
George M. Schimmel, now a lawyer in Milwaukee, a profession still relying on Latin phrases, graduated from Marquette High in 1977 with four years of Latin under his belt.

He remembers Greenwald as a fair and helpful teacher, and said that back then his folks used to invite Greenwald to their home every Thanksgiving for dinner....

Greenwald said he has spotted a rather arrogant T-shirt out there that says, in Latin, "If you can read this, you're too smart."

It seems odd to say about a language one would study, but "you didn't have to speak it. That's one of the good things. I remember translating 'Winnie the Pooh' from Latin," Schimmel said.

Even Greenwald himself does not converse in Latin except haltingly on rare occasions.

Schimmel said Greenwald also turned him on to astronomy. "Because of him I own three telescopes," he said.

Greenwald will ponder the stars in his retirement. And he wants to study Greek.

Marquette plans to fill his spot. Think there aren't many Latin teachers out there anymore?

"They had 40 applicants," Greenwald said.
That's good news. There's still a place for classics in the 21st century.



Check out my CafePress shop for greeting cards, t-shirts, and other theatrical items!
Read my blog on Kindle!

Wednesday, January 28, 2009

A Slice of the 2008 Election

Although the 2008 general election is now history -- for those of you who missed it, Barack Obama was elected President with a Democratic majority in both houses of Congress -- the impulse to analyze (and sometimes microanalyze) its results is sometimes irresistible.

In the category of microanalysis is this tidbit that I found in my high school alumni magazine, MUHS, which landed in my mailbox this afternoon:



Setting aside for a moment the poor design of the graphic (the color-coding for the major-party candidates is flipped between the two pie charts), it is interesting to note the differences between the overall votes of the students and the faculty and staff.

The students of Marquette University High School -- who, it should be noted, are 100 percent male and 83 percent Catholic -- chose as their winning candidate John McCain by 87 votes. There are currently 1,065 students at MUHS, so an 80 percent turnout means there were 852 votes cast. Some of those votes were cast for Ralph Nader and Bob Barr, so Barack Obama received what looks like about 44 or 45 percent of the vote.

By comparison, Barack Obama received 56.3 percent of the Wisconsin vote in 2008, with John McCain receiving 42.4 percent. Ralph Nader took 0.6 percent while Bob Barr took 0.3 percent, according to the New York Times.

But look at the faculty/staff pie chart. Numbers are not revealed, but the current number of faculty members at MUHS is 67. If staff is included, one could presume that about 80 adults voted in this mock election. Their choice was overwhelmingly for Barack Obama. (The "other" category is not broken down as it was for the student vote.) It looks like John McCain received about 30 percent of the faculty/staff vote.

What does this mean? I do not want to jump to conclusions, but it seems to indicate that faculty at Marquette High School are not using their classrooms as a forum to inculcate political views in their students but, if they are attempting to do so, they are failing.

Just for fun, I decided to look into the results of the mock election we held at MUHS during my senior year. While there are no figures for faculty votes, the margin between the Republican and Democratic candidates in that 1976 mock election was astonishingly wide: Gerald Ford (who in the actual election that year lost the popular vote narrowly) took 62 percent of the vote to Jimmy Carter's 28 percent. Third party candidate Eugene McCarthy won 8 percent and "other" received 2 percent. According to the 1977 Flambeau yearbook, 80 percent of the student body cast ballots in the mock election on November 2, 1976; there were about 1,200 students at MUHS in those days, so turnout was around 960.

By comparison, voters in Wisconsin in 1976 gave 49.5 percent of their votes to Jimmy Carter and 47.83 percent to Gerald R. Ford, with 1.66 percent for McCarthy and 0.6 percent for "other," according to the U.S. Election Atlas. (Statewide turnout was just over 60 percent.)

See those 1976 results for yourself:



The "referenda" results from that mock election are interesting, too. They show that 60 percent of students supported a "registration of all hand guns and parts" while 64 percent of students favored decriminalization of marijuana.

I wonder what the results of those referenda would have been 32 years later.

This has been a (sort-of) Bicentennial Minute ...



Be sure to visit my CafePress store for gifts and novelty items!
Read my blog on Kindle!

Thursday, May 15, 2008

Prince Caspian and Peter Pevensie

Chronicles of Narnia Lion Witch Wardrobe Virginia Film FestivalLater tonight, the much anticipated sequel to the 2005 film, The Chronicles of Narnia: The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe, will be debuting at midnight screenings across the country.

The new film, The Chronicles of Narnia: Prince Caspian, takes up where the last one left off (with a gap of about 1,300 years, as I understand it.)

I posted my first video to YouTube on October 26, 2006, and have now put 145 videos on that site, many of which have also ended up on the blog, as well.

Of those 145 videos, the two most popular -- by far -- have been very short, quite silent clips of William Moseley, who plays Peter Pevensie in the Narnia films. Moseley was a special guest at the Virginia Film Festival in October 2006. In one of the videos I took, he is participating in a panel discussion moderated by film critic David Edelstein. As of a few minutes ago, that video had 6,221 visitors on YouTube:

In the other video, young Mr. Moseley is signing autographs for delighted fans. That one has attracted 6,709 visitors and 13 text comments (mostly about his hair) on YouTube:
Just for comparison, let me note that, of my 145 posted videos, the third most popular is called "Scenes from a Debate Season," showing images of me and my fellow debaters at Marquette University High School during the 1975-76 academic year. It has had 1,400 visitors:
I figure, as teenage boys go, Peter Pevensie/William Moseley is about five times as popular as loquacious Catholic high school students from Milwaukee wearing leisure suits. What's curious is how much more popular he seems to be than Liev Schreiber, Bay Buchanan, my nephew Gavin, Robert Duvall, Sam Waterston, and Morgan Freeman. By the way, I'll be seeing Prince Caspian tonight and may have comments about it after the screening has ended.  (Chronicles of Narnia photo provided courtesy of the Virginia Film Festival.)


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.

Monday, April 07, 2008

Gifts for the Arts at MUHS


My alma mater, Marquette University High School, just announced that it is the recipient of two seven-figure gifts to underwrite improvements in the arts environment on the college preparatory school's Milwaukee campus. These large -- and welcome -- gifts will have a profound effect on the capacity of MUHS students to participate in the performing arts, as well as in various graphic and fine arts programs.

Writing in today's Milwaukee Journal Sentinel, Dani McClain reports:

Two families have donated gifts totaling $2 million to expand the arts progam at Marquette University High School, school officials announced today.

Jerry and Donna O'Rourke have given $1 million to transform the school's auditorium into a performing arts center. School officials said today that they plan to improve the auditorium's acoustics, upgrade the lighting and add a large elevator to move instruments from the band room to the stage.

The auditorium is already named after the family because of a contribution the O'Rourkes made to renovate the space more than a decade ago. Jerry O'Rourke is a member of Marquette University High School's class of 1955, Dan Quesnell, a spokesman for the school, said today.

Ken and Karen Yontz' gift of $1 million will establish a new fine arts center that will include chorus and ensemble rooms, a graphics computer lab, a ceramics room and kiln and a darkroom.

The Business Journal of Milwaukee adds these details:

Marquette University High School is in the midst of a $14.2 million building project that includes a two-story addition featuring the Yontz Fine Arts Center connecting to the O'Rourke Performing Arts Center.

"The generous O'Rourke and Yontz gifts ensure that current and future students will experience the highest quality fine arts program," Sazama said in a press release.

Especially in my senior year, I spent many hours in the then-unnamed auditorium. (Regular readers may recall seeing video footage of the auditorium from the 1970s -- the Prep Players' production of Guys & Dolls in 1977, and "Blazing Seniors," the Senior Follies of the Class of 1977, which was actually produced in November 1976.)

At last year's "Great Homecoming," I was able to snap a few photographs of the auditorium, which really has not changed much at all over the past 30 years. I hope that the transformation promised by the million-dollar-plus endowment does not eliminate its mid-20th-century charm. I especially hope that the decades of autographs painted on the walls beneath the stage and in the wings are not harmed in the construction phase -- that is a historical record well worth preserving, visual evidence of the ghosts who haunt every theatre.





























No doubt history will be on the minds of the actors, musicians, and crew members who take part in this weekend's production of Ragtime (reviewed here and here), as well as the audience members who go to see the Prep Players' version of the 1998 Tony-winning musical play, set in the turbulent turn of the 20th-century and dealing with issues of racial equality and immigration that still vex us today.