Chapters (93)
- Cover
- Dedication
- One
- Two
- Three
- Four
- Five
- Six
- Seven
- Eight
- Nine
- Ten
- Eleven
- Twelve
- Thirteen
- Fourteen
- Fifteen
- Sixteen
- Seventeen
- Eighteen
- Nineteen
- Twenty
- Twenty-One
- Twenty-Two
- Twenty-Three
- Twenty-Four
- Twenty-Five
- Twenty-Six
- Twenty-Seven
- Twenty-Eight
- Twenty-Nine
- Thirty
- Thirty-One
- Thirty-Two
- Thirty-Three
- Thirty-Four
- Thirty-Five
- Thirty-Six
- Thirty-Seven
- Thirty-Eight
- Thirty-Nine
- Forty
- Forty-One
- Forty-Two
- Forty-Three
- Forty-Four
- Forty-Five
- Forty-Six
- Forty-Seven
- Forty-Eight
- Forty-Nine
- Fifty
- Fifty-One
- Fifty-Two
- Fifty-Three
- Fifty-Four
- Fifty-Five
- Fifty-Six
- Fifty-Seven
- Fifty-Eight
- Fifty-Nine
- Sixty
- Sixty-One
- Sixty-Two
- Sixty-Three
- Sixty-Four
- Sixty-Five
- Sixty-Six
- Sixty-Seven
- Sixty-Eight
- Sixty-Nine
- Seventy
- Seventy-One
- Seventy-Two
- Seventy-Three
- Seventy-Four
- Seventy-Five
- Seventy-Six
- Seventy-Seven
- Seventy-Eight
- Seventy-Nine
- Eighty
- Eighty-One
- Eighty-Two
- Eighty-Three
- Eighty-Four
- Eighty-Five
- Author’s Note
- Acknowledgments
- About the Author
- Books by Kelly Yang
- Back Ad
- About the Publisher
This house believes the state should lace water supply with a chemical that homogenizes people’s intelligence to the intelligence level of an average university graduate.
This house would force all companies worth over $1 billion to list publicly.
This house believes that developing countries should heavily disincentivize rural to urban migration.
Holy shit. These motions are so much harder than the ones we’ve been studying. Audrey and Josh are on their phones talking to their private debate coaches. My airways are closing up. Heat crawls up my neck as I realize I may be out of my league here. My phone rings. It’s my mom.
“Hi, honey! I just wanted to wish you good luck!” she says. “I’m sorry I can’t be there, but I know you’ll do well!”
The enthusiasm in her voice collides with the impossibility of the motions I’ve just seen. I think of all the extra nights she’s worked to save up so I can come here, all the things she’s had to give up, including her own education, and I’m filled with the most soul-crushing guilt.
“I don’t know if I can do it, Mom . . . ,” I tell her. My voice wobbles.
“What are you talking about?” she asks. “Of course you can do it!”
I glance at my teammates on the phone, their coaches feeding them arguments, giving them talking points. “The other kids, they all have extra help.”
“You don’t need extra help!” my mom says. “And besides, you know things that they don’t know. Things you can’t learn from a textbook! You can do it—I know you can!”
I cover my mouth, shaking my head into the phone. There’s so much she doesn’t know. My mom hangs up, and I turn back to the table. Mr. Connelly looks over at me, opens his mouth like he’s going to say something reassuring, and then closes it. Instead, he turns to my other teammates and builds them up.
That night, I grapple with major imposter syndrome. As I listen to Audrey’s loud snoring, the doubts swirl through my head. What am I doing here? Do I really have what it takes? Eventually, these questions lead to even bigger questions of What’s even the point? They’re just words! Even if I win, will it make one iota of difference? I glance over at Audrey, in her silk pajamas and fuzzy eyeshades. Tomorrow, she’ll get up and say a bunch of woke words she doesn’t believe, and everyone will clap and smile and feel good about themselves, while the world continues to spin in the sexist, racist, classist mess that it is.