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As I prepare to judge high school mock trial this upcoming Sunday, I
cannot help but reflect on the journey that brought me here. It feels
surreal knowing I will be sitting with a score sheet instead of standing at
counsel table. I still remember being a bright-eyed sixth grader who
joined mock trial because I wanted more friends.
Fast forward through years of competitions, case packets, late night
practices, and car rides home dissecting every objection, and mock trial
became so much more than a club. It became a community. I competed
all throughout high school with some of my best friends and even
carried that passion into a year of collegiate mock trial with Western
Kentucky University. Somewhere along the way, what started as a way to make friends turned into
something that shaped my confidence.
While there are countless lessons mock trial has taught me, three stand out the most.
1. Public speaking does not get easier. It just gets more tolerable.
“public speaking gets easier with time” is what everyone preaches, and after years of mock trial,
I assumed that would be true for me. Even though I am not regularly competing anymore I
thought the skills would transfer cleanly into classrooms and presentations. I thought I had
already done the hardest version of public speaking.
But I still get sick to my stomach before presenting.
There is no judge now. No score sheets and still, my heart races and my thoughts feel fragile
whenever I have to present.
Maybe I am better than I used to be. But better does not mean more calm. While mock trial did
not help me leave behind the nerves, it taught me that fear and competence can coexist.
2. Preparation is confidence.
There is a myth in competitive spaces that some people are just naturally good at speaking or
arguing. Mock trial quickly proved that wrong. The strongest competitors were rarely the ones
who relied on talent alone. They were the ones who practiced until their binders were falling
apart. I remember rehearsing my openings at the wall like 6 or 7 times before rounds to make
sure I was confident. I remember running cross examinations over FaceTime and timing
objections with teammates until we could anticipate each other’s rhythm without even looking
up.
Preparation changed everything. When I truly knew my case, I stopped fearing curveball
questions. If a witness said something unexpected, I could adapt because I understood the theory
of the case, not just my script. Confidence was never about ego. It was about repetition, and it is
a skill I have tried carry over to everything I do.
3. Losing teaches you more than winning ever will.
Some of my most vivid memories are not of trophies. They are of ballots that stung. I can still
picture sitting on a hotel floor reading a judge’s comment that felt brutally honest. At the time, it
was hard not to take criticism personally. But those ballots forced growth in a way wins never
did.
After tough losses, our team would sit together and break everything down. What could we
control? Where did we get too comfortable? Those conversations made us sharper. They also
made us closer. Winning felt exciting for a moment but losing demanded reflection and it taught
me how to separate my performance from my worth and how to turn disappointment into
motivation.
Now, as I prepare to judge students who are where I once was, I feel grateful. Mock trial did not
just teach me how to argue. It taught me how to prepare, how to persevere, and how to stand up
and speak even when my voice shakes. And honestly, that might be the most valuable lesson of
all.
Chealsea is a McConnell Scholar at the University of Louisville in the class of 2029. She is studying
nursing and political science.