Choose Your Own Adventure, a USA-South conference experinece

It’s a beautiful sunny morning, a little cool, but that feels nice after the recent heat. You check your phone, the date reads October 14, 2017. You stroll into the elegant foyer of the Hilton Garden Inn in Ardmore, Oklahoma and are directed through the lobby to a conference center. You note the light grey walls and lime green decor as you approach a man sitting at a table. His nametag reads “John White” and he greets you with a smile. He asks your name and, following your response, hands you a large white envelope. You are also handed a USA-South judge notebook and offered candy from a large bowl. “Welcome to Choose Your Own Adventure, a judge conference experience.”

You examine the envelope and find that it bears your name on a small sticker in the top left corner. Inside you find a customized nametag noting your location and role in the conference (attendee, presenter, staff, etc.). There is also a yellow sheet displaying a customized schedule showing the workshops you indicated on your signup survey, and the general schedule of presentations. A small blue square of paper is marked “Door Prize Ticket.” You are also asked to take a small white slip of paper containing a QR code from a box.

You glance around the pre-conference area and see a table well stocked with coffee, tea, and water. Other judges are helping themselves to the beverages and socializing at the nearby tables. You note that behind the check-in area, there are 4 doors, each marked with the name of a planeswalker. As 8:00 am nears and the conference is about to begin, you have a decision to make . . .

If you enter the door marked Nicol Bolas . . . .

You find three judges seated at a large boardroom table. During each two hour time block, they are joined by five participants. Kenny Perry begins each session with a presentation on investigation techniques, followed by Anson Henthorn and Ashten Fisher acting out several situations. Participants engage in active investigations, then the group debriefs on each session and participants provide feedback for each other.

If you enter the door marked Jace . . . .

You hear a judge making an opening announcement for what sounds like Friday Night Magic. Then he sits down and another judge stands to provide a similar announcement. On closer inspection you realize that the group of fifteen judges is participating in a head judge announcements workshop led by Ben Quasnitschka. He has covered the basics of gaining and keeping the audience’s attention, what information is the most important and when to say it, and of course, judge puns.

If you enter the door marked Vraska . . . .

There is an accordion on the table. Twenty judges sit in a large U-shape discussing scorekeeping. Mike Ames appears to be in charge, assisted by John Hessler. You listen to comments on how to use WER as well as an explanation of what to do when it crashes. The content is well prepared and clearly presented, but you wonder about the accordion.

If you enter the door marked Huatli . . . .

Raucous laughter greets you. You hear beeping sounds, rapidly fired questions, random trivia, and a lot of merriment. Judges seem to be enjoying hearing bits of information about the history of the program interspersed with current rules and policy, with some wacky off-topic discussions. In addition to the content, the seminar builds a sense of community as judges share laughs and make memories together.

At 10:00am, the rooms all empty and the judges filter into the Huatli room. The room is a bit crowded and stuffy, thanks to a broken air conditioner. Erin Leonard, the conference organizer, greets the crowd and introduces the staff. She points out Preston May, in charge of live-streaming the event, Amanda Coots, testing coordinator, and John White, the conference co-organizer.

John steps up to distribute door prizes. He collects the blue tickets into a bag, then draws names at random. You listen for your name, hoping to be chosen to select from a table of colorful gift bags and open the mystery prize inside. Most contain regional swag such as notebooks and keychains, but some also contain general Magic goodies like gravity dice, sleeves, or packs of cards.

A handsome man in a pale blue shirt and cowboy hat is introduced as Regional Coordinator David Hibbs. He proceeds with a presentation called “Story Circle.” On the first slide, a list of topics is presented and the attendees are allowed to vote on how the presentation procedes. After each section concludes, another vote determines the next topic. You enjoy an hour of judge program history lessons encompassing badges, uniforms, judge exams, and stories of times gone by.

After the presentation, the group reconvenes outside on a sunny patio where Ben Quasnitschka organizes you all for a group photo. Much rearranging and jostling results in you being sandwiched between friends kneeling on a piece of lawn furniture. You smile for a few minutes into the blinding sun, then are released to return inside.

Other judges are heading out in cars or on foot to grab some lunch at nearby restaurants. The format of the conference allows for freedom to create your own schedule by combining presentations, workshops, testing, or other activities to result in a minimum of six hours of content. Since the conference lasts from 8am to 6pm, you can choose to arrive early, take a long lunch, leave early, stay late, or any combination thereof to meet your personal needs and goals.

You wander back inside and note a few judges scattered around the lobby area taking judge exams, debriefing after practice tests or meeting with mentors. The large glass and grey room offers plenty of space to relax, study, or chat quietly. Amanda seems to be everywhere at once coordinating a variety of activities and allowing each judge to pursue their advancement goals.

You wander back toward the meeting rooms and face John, seated at his table answering questions and offering candy. You fill a cup at the beverage table and once again contemplate your choices . . .

If you enter the door marked Nicol Bolas . . . .

You realize that you’ve been here before. Ashten and Anson still sit at their table and Kenny repeats his presentation. The only thing that has changed is the five participants in the workshop.

If you enter the door marked Jace . . . .

You encounter a small Magic tournament. About 12 players open starter decks and complete deck registration while a team of judges guides them. Jessica Livingston expertly guides the team of new judges and you quickly realize this is a mock tournament. You note that the players are a mix of experienced judges and local players, including one judge’s five-year-old daughter. The judges are organized into teams and each one is led by an L1, gaining invaluable experience in leadership. Despite issues with the decklists, things seem to be proceeding smoothly.

If you enter the door marked Vraska . . . .

You watch while Frank Chafe demonstrates his method of deck checks at the head of the room. Around 20 judges follow along. You are handed a starter deck and offered a chance to give it a try. Your fingers fumble through the motions at first, but you quickly see that Frank’s method can make a deck check quicker and more efficient.

If you enter the door marked Huatli . . . .

A presenter stands at the front of the room speaking to a group of judges. You realize that the other rooms are much cooler and the doors to this room have been left open to allow better air circulation, but it’s still hot and stuffy inside. You sit down and listen for a few minutes as Bryan Spellman dances his way through a presentation entitled “Baby Got Backups”. In the front corner of the room, Preston sits behind a wall of electronic equipment, monitoring the livestream and recording the presentations for judges who were unable to attend.

After enjoying your afternoon attending workshops and presentations, you decide to join your friends for dinner. Before heading out, you use the QR code you received earlier to access a Google feedback form asking you to evaluate the presenters and presentations. Since you selected a random QR code and your name is not included anywhere, the feedback is completely anonymous. You quickly answer the questions, then return to John at his table.

Above the table you note signs congratulating two new L1s, Brandon Cox and Joseph Dunlap, and two new L2s, Andrew Villarubia and Travis Perusich. John checks on his computer that you have earned at least six credits by looking up your QR code number.  He marks you as complete and hands you a packet of foils. Then he thanks you for attending and you head out into the balmy Oklahoma evening.

Echo Chamber

My friend started a project. She knows I hate her project. She knows we disagree about everything related to this project. She know that I think her entire premise is entirely wrong and that she's making our lives more difficult by this project even existing.

So she invited me to join her project. Not surprisingly, I ignored her request. Then she said:

Please consider helping me prevent an echo chamber

Those words changed me. She intentionally opted to include a person in her group who disagrees with the group's fundamental purpose. She knows I will argue with her. She knows that I won't complicitly support her decisions. She knows that managing her project will be more difficult with me around.

She also knows that I will share my opinion and not remain silent. She knows that I will speak for those who dissent, but may lack the confidence to say so. She knows that I will represent those who opted not to join the project because they disagree with it.

This is true leadership - doing what's right by every stakeholder. Truly listening and seeking to understand the viewpoints of others. Making decisions based not on what's easy, but on what's best.

It seems so rare in today's world. So many people are only out for themselves, or they believe that everyone else agrees with them without obtaining confirmation. I've seen it a lot in the judge program: projects that are basically 1 man shows, mentors and mentees using one another for their own gain, leaders ignoring those under them while claiming to care. It's frustrating and off-putting.

So while I still hate everything about it, I joined and I'll serve as an active member adding my input and voicing my opinions. I'll share the unpopular opinions, ask the hard questions, and refuse to 'let it go.' Sometimes respectful disagreement makes us both better and I'm proud that you asked me the be one of the irons as we sharpen one another.

"What are some of your favourite things about your local Magic community?"

"What are some of your favourite things about your local Magic community?"

I was asked to answer this question as a part of a Judge of the Week feature, but my response took on a life of its own. I sent an excerpt for JOTW to use (which met their length requirements), but opted to post the full text here as well. A special thanks to Raoul Mowatt and the JOTW team. I appreciate the work you guys do and I appreciate the opportunity to be a part of this feature.

There was a time, about six months after I started playing Magic, when I commented that walking into my LGS felt like 'coming home.' My friend laughed and said, "A place where everyone knows your name?" And while cheesy, he was also correct. I loved walking in those doors and being greeted by friends, immediately being asked what I was playing or invited to join a game. 

As a newcomer to both the game and the shop, my concerns about fitting in had been unfounded. Guys offered to help me improve my decks, trade me cards, show me how to beat them, and teach me tournament fundamentals. As I immersed myself in the community, the terminology and ethics soon followed. After an exhaustive internet search, I finally asked someone and discovered that "fizzled" and "countered on resolution" mean the same thing. I learned that slow rolling when you have a win in hand is considered rude, just like scooping before you've attempted all your outs is incorrect. (It just took me a while to figure out that I had a win in hand!)

I came from literally nothing in terms of knowing the game. I had never seen or heard of it until a friend of a friend brought over a box of Theros and some guys offered to teach me a 'new game.' Let's just say that drafting might not have been the best introduction . . .  However my 5-colored deck of mostly 8 drops (the big ones are the best, right?) was amazing. I do wish that before we drafted someone had told me that you could add basic lands - I drafted every land from every pack because they were so exceptionally rare.

Terrible beginning aside, I'm extremely grateful that those guys kicked my ass that day. None of them let me win. They didn't even allow me to take back my awful plays. They did explain the rules to me, and require that I play by them. The guys in my local store treated me the same way. No one babied me. No one coddled me. They simply educated me, and demanded excellence. Each time I lost was a learning experience, and gradually I won a few games, and finally a few matches. 

While I can't say it was an easy road, it was the right road for me. I'm sure there are folks out there who would have preferred a different experience - a handicap of sorts for beginners. That's just not my style. Growing up, my dad and I played a lot of games, and he didn't let me win. I learned to respect skill, hope for luck, and that winning and losing must both be accomplished gracefully. My LGS recreated those feelings for me.

Alas all good things must come to an end, right? Well, shortly after I became a judge, that store closed down. I sought to fill the void by judging a lot of national events like Grands Prix and Star City Opens. Don't get me wrong-I love those events! But there is also something to be said for a local Magic community. I missed 'my guys' and a store that felt like home.

A funny thing happened: As I judged more PPTQs all over the area, I started seeing the same players each weekend. Many of the same guys who travel to the larger events as well. Guys that I have played Magic with, traveled with, roomed with, traded cards with, and judged with popped up at a variety of places. Sometimes players who didn't know me personally knew of me. Even when walking into a store I had never been in before, I was greeted with familiar faces.

It's awesome how quickly my feelings went from newbie and outsider to 'one of the crowd.' I can't help but smile when someone surprises me with a hot chocolate (I don't drink coffee, but I may have a bit of a hot chocolate addiction . . .) I love seeing a local player at a large event who stops by registration to say hello or asks me to check out his deck before the main event. It always brings me a sense of pride when other judges meet my players from home. 

While the game may have introduced us, the friendships I’ve made have connected us in many ways outside the game too. From pool parties and fantasy football to baseball games and Christmas cards. We've celebrated birthdays in a shop, brought our kids along to play, and shared our anniversary trip with crazy roommates. In the past year I've attended a wedding and a funeral, sharing both the joys and the sorrows of life with my Magic community. 

So in conclusion, my favorite thing about my local Magic community is the community itself - both the players and the judges, in person, and on the internet. Whether it's my Tuesday night legacy group, the grinders at a PPTQ, or roommates at a GP, the people are as much a part of the experience as the game itself and it's the shared experiences among those people that create the community that has made me who I am as a judge.

Accepting Feedback: The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly

Note: This originally appeared as a series on The Feedback Loop.

The Good

A lot has been written about giving feedback, but what about receiving it? Many judges focus on preparing quality feedback and sharing it with the recipient through reviews, exemplars, and conversations. What happens to that feedback after it is shared?

Sometimes it can be implemented immediately. Sometimes it is dismissed as incorrect or irrelevant. Sometimes it’s earmarked for an arbitrary ‘later,’ and promptly forgotten. Even the best feedback can go in one ear and out the other if the recipient does not invest some time and effort in accepting it and translating it into useful, actionable guidance.

Feedback arrives in many forms and can be subdivided in innumerable ways, but for the purpose of this conversation, we’re going to define three types of feedback: good, bad, and ugly. Good feedback refers to what we commonly call strengths or things that went well. Bad feedback addresses areas for improvement. Ugly feedback encompasses feedback that is confusing, convoluted, or just plain wrong. In this article, we’re going to focus on good feedback. (But don’t worry, we’ll come back to bad and ugly feedback in future posts!)

Everyone enjoys hearing that they did well. But then what?  Do we smile and go on with our day? Does that feedback actually impact what we do in the future?

Most judges look to the “Areas for Improvement” section of their reviews in search of changes to make or things to do differently. However, let’s first explore a few ways to actively engage with positive feedback and allow it to shape future changes in our judge behavior.

Ask “Why?”

When someone gives you praise for a specific thing, stop and ask why. Obviously it impacted that person enough for them to mention it in a review. What made it stand out? How did you do it differently that you have done it in the past? How is it unique from the way other judges do it? What details or facets have you recently changed?

For example, you Head Judge a local PPTQ and the floor judge mentions that your opening announcements were really great. Ask him “why?” What specifically caught his attention? Maybe it was that you remembered to point out the restroom location since they are difficult to find at this store. Maybe it’s that you spoke up loudly enough for even the players in the back to hear. Perhaps the organization of your information was better than the HJ he had at the last PPTQ.  Sometimes it might be that it was just an overall feeling, but generally the person providing you the feedback can add more details, . . . if you ask!

Make it a habit.

If you did it right, and it was worth mentioning, it’s probably also worth repeating. Make note of the consistent behaviors for which you receive positive feedback. Do your customer service skills shine? Are you always the fastest deck checker in the room? Do other judges continually ask your secret to remembering layers? Identify the areas in which you excel, and commit to continuing that success. You might even find that an unintentional behavior achieved great results and you want to emulate it next time.

For example, when I was tasked with redesigning registration for an event, I spent time at the end of each shift doing an individual debrief with each staff member. I intended that few minutes to be a time to give and receive feedback that would allow me to improve the process. I later received a number of reviews and even an exemplar mentioning that judges really liked these little chats. Since then I have added them as a regular part of my team leading, even when I’m not retooling a process.

Expand it.

Take your positive feedback a step further by finding more ways to use your talents. If you are particularly good at a task you may be able to teach it to other judges, offer insight to TOs, or join a project to share your ideas. Of course we need to work on improving our weak areas, but working with our strengths provides a lot of value as well.

For example, if you find yourself mentoring several new judges and your Area Captain mentions you are a talented mentor, perhaps you should consider presenting on mentorship techniques at your next regional judge conference. Or you could write an article about mentoring new candidates for a judge blog or perhaps host a judge breakfast a local store for new judges.

There are many possibilities for how to use positive feedback to impact and improve your judging, so the next time you someone says you did well, take a deeper look at that feedback and determine how you can best apply that observation.

Whatever you decide to do with your positive feedback, do something!

The Bad

We previously looked at how positive feedback can prompt you to make changes in your actions. Now let’s continue our series on the good, the bad, and the ugly of feedback by discussing how negative feedback can be useful. We all know that an “Area for Improvement” lists a thing that we can do better, but the question is often, how? Let’s consider a few specific ways to turn negative feedback into actionable items.

Ask for Help.

When you’re struggling with a thing, there is a good chance you know someone who excels at it. If you don’t, ask a friend or mentor to point you in the right direction, or look for resources online such as tournament reports or blogs posts, then contact the author. Whether it’s a local judge, someone you know on Slack or the author of a great forum article, reach out and ask for advice. Most judges are thrilled to share tips, answer questions, or provide mentoring, especially regarding a skill in which they are proficient.

For example, when my deck checks took too long, I talked to a friend who consistently completes them quickly. He offered me several different sorting options and practiced with me at home to improve my times. He also showed me the Polish method of checking a deck, which can be faster in some situations. With his coaching, my times quickly improved.

Prepare for success.

Many problems can be avoided or minimized with good preparation. By knowing what skill you want to improve and planning ahead on specific steps you will take, you can focus your efforts during an actual event on executing the task. Preparation can include reading forum posts, working with mentors, or writing notes to jog your memory.

For example, if you want to become more proficient at using WER to scorekeep your next PPTQ, take some time before the event to log in and try out features you haven’t used. Ask your favorite scorekeeper some questions and make notes of features that may be helpful to you. Then arrive 15 minutes early to the PPTQ and spend some extra time setting up your event in WER and tape your notes sheet to the bottom of the screen. These steps will set you up to be ready to solve problems as they arise.

Make a Change.

As scary as it may seem, try something new and different. Doing it the same way every time is likely to produce the same results. If you want to see improvement, you have to be willing to change. Maybe tardiness at 0/10 will make your event go faster? Maybe trusting that new floor judge to run end of round will let them shine? Maybe giving that Head Judge feedback won’t make him hate you? Maybe the change won’t go as planned, but the results could be even better than you anticipate.

For example, if you’ve been criticized for cutting off other judges to correct them while discussing a situation, try taking the time to ask them about what they are saying instead of accusing them of being wrong. While you may be concerned that it will slow you down, taking the time to understand can reveal many things. In answering your inquiry, the other judge may realize their own error, or you may see that they were correct. Even if you do need to instruct them, understanding why they believe the way they do can shape your feedback for them and enable you to communicate more effectively.

While receiving “bad” feedback can be difficult, using it as a tool to help you grow and improve is essential to your continued development as a judge. Sometimes it will make you angry or frustrated when you initially read it, but take a few minutes to relax and consider, you’ll often find that you already knew that you needed to improve in that area. Take a deeper look at those areas for improvement and implement changes.

Whatever you decide to do with your negative feedback, try doing something different!

The Ugly

We’ve talked about “good” and “bad” feedback as being things we did well and things we can work on, but what about when you get “ugly” feedback? The kind when someone says something that is confusing, difficult to conceptualize, or just plain wrong. What do you do with feedback like that? It’s hard to know how to address it or how to utilize it when the feedback itself is unclear.

Ask for clarification.

Feedback isn’t set in stone – it’s an ongoing process. Don’t be afraid to ask for more information about the feedback you receive. Questions like, “Why do you say that?” or “What did I do that makes you think that?” can prompt the person delivering the feedback to give you more detail. You can also ask for them to give you a specific example of what they observed. These details can help you reframe the initial feedback and will often sharpen an unclear observation into an actionable item.

For example, a judge on my team once told me that I needed to communicate better. The comment initially baffled me because I believed that I had explained his task clearly, he had not asked any questions about it, and he seemed to be executing it successfully. I asked him for more detail and he added, “When you tell me to hurry, it causes me anxiety and makes it harder for me to be successful. While I’m learning this task, please let me slow down and take my time.” That more specific feedback allowed me to understand what aspect of my communication needed improvement - not the explanation of the work itself, but my supervision of him while he did it. The conversation allowed me to adjust my expectations and set the tone for a better working relationship for the remainder of the day.

Check yourself.

Carter once told me, “The first thing you should do when someone says you’re being an asshole is ask yourself, Am I being an asshole?” While we don’t always like the answer, taking an honest look at ourselves often unlocks opportunities to grow and improve. Especially if you receive similar feedback from multiple sources, sometimes shifting our perspective can show us things we didn’t see before. Maybe we thought a certain method was best, but we haven’t tried a new way. Maybe that other person’s interpretation of policy could be correct. Maybe we thought our advice was helpful when it actually frustrates others.

For example, a member of a team I lead told me that she felt like I didn’t trust her. It surprised me because I view her as an extremely capable judge and I trust her to handle things completely. As a team lead I often take on the more difficult and complicated tasks assigned to our team intending to lighten the load for other folks. I had no idea that this practice could send the opposite message. In the future I will consider how I delegate tasks to ensure that I take into account both the workload and what message those assignments send.

Watch for it later.

Sometimes when initially receiving feedback, it may seem untrue or irrelevant. In that case, it may be best to file that information away for later, but make a mental note of it. Being aware of a potential issue can allow you to identify it if and when it recurs. Then, when it does happen, your mental light will go on and you’ll say, “Ohhhhh . . . that’s what that feedback meant.” Connecting the feedback and the behavior may not be instantaneous, especially if the feedback was not very specific, but if you’re looking for it, you’ll likely find it.

For example, if someone mentions that you flip rounds too slowly at your FNMs, you may think, “I always make good time. Why would they say that?” But a few weeks later at FNM you are talking to a player and look up to realize that the last slip has come in and you weren’t looking. As you quickly end your conversation and grab for the slip, you realize that this is what that person was talking about.

Often feedback that may seem unclear can actually be very beneficial; you just have to invest the effort to decipher it. Give yourself time to think about and mentally process each bit of feedback you receive. It may start out as convoluted, confusing, or condescending, but when you set aside your initial emotional reaction and look a little deeper you will often find that it’s also on point. Even if it’s not, you can find useful things within int to take away from it.

We’ve now considered feedback that is good, bad, and ugly. While feedback comes in all shapes and sizes, and sorting it into categories can help process it into bite-sized chunks that you can turn into real change on the floor of your next event. Positive feedback tells you where you are strong and which practices to continue. Areas for improvement help you focus your efforts on places that you can do better. Ambiguous or incorrect feedback poses the greatest challenge to finding ways to apply it, but it also offers the greatest reward when you discover its hidden meanings.

Whether the feedback you receive is good, bad, or ugly, the most important part is what you do with it!

Stories

As a judge, we usually focus on rules knowledge or event logistics when we talk about what we do. We aspire to get to L2 or to become a Head Judge. Our goals are to flip rounds faster, present at a conference, or finally understand layers. Sometimes we grumble at another day of deck checks or at being assigned to the prize wall. We find ourselves going through the motions at an event without really engaging with the work.

This weekend at GP Omaha, while serving on the registration team, I got a taste of something more.

A player approached me with some questions about the event. He explained that he was attending his first Grand Prix and asked about registering for side events, getting a playmat, and how to earn prize wall tix. While answering his queries I added that we were so excited that he could join us for his first GP. He launched into a touching tale. When he was eleven years old, he played Magic and planned to attend a local GP, however his grandmother did not support his hobby and burned his Magic cards. Years later, he had returned to the game as a young adult, but a flood in his home destroyed yet another expensive collection. He quit. About three years ago his son took up the game and had been begging him to play again. At first he refused. Upon seeing that a GP would be in their area, he joined his son, now eleven, in preparing for the event, and the two of them attended together.

This story impacted me on so many levels. As a parent, seeing the father and son sharing a hobby reminded me of golfing with my father as I grew up. I'm sure that Magic will bring them closer as they travel and play together. Hearing of the man's loss and struggle to rebuild spoke to his perseverance and strength. His son accomplishing the dream that he could not fulfill at the age of eleven completed a circle of sorts in his life, and being a part of that thrilled me as well.

Later in the day a man approached with some younger guys. He explained that they wanted to register for the Main Event. After chatting a bit I discovered that the group had traveled from Sheldon,
Iowa. The man taught in an elementary school and spent his afternoons running "The Game Club" at the nearby high school. The young men had learned how to play Magic and practiced diligently to attend their first competitive event. Throughout the weekend the gentleman updated me on the group's progress and Head Judge Jared Sylva invited them onto the main event stage for a picture.

As a former teacher, I've seen so many adults fail today's young people. This man engaged with a group of young men providing them a role model and mentor while also sharing with them a hobby. These guys are learning more than a game - they are learning about commitment, decision making, and character. By showing them the larger world of gaming, this teacher has introduced them to the world of competitive play, and to the Magic community as a whole. While Magic may not be anyone's only passion, opening their eyes to the scope of opportunities can ignite these men's dreams and encourage them to look higher in all areas of their lives. What an amazing investment into our future!

That evening another player dropped by registration and excitedly asked to purchase the VIP package. He stated that this was his second GP ever and at his first (GP Denver 2016) he had registered for the VIP package and Magic judge Mike Goodman had gone out of his way to help this player out. The player not only remembered Mike's full name, but went on to gush about how special Mike had made his weekend. He wanted to buy the VIP upgrade to see Mike again. I couldn't keep the tears from my eyes as I quietly informed him that Mike had passed away. "Oh shit!" the man responded, clearly upset. I revealed my MG wristband and shared with him how much Mike meant to the Magic community. I told him how I had first met Mike as a player and then became friends as a co-worker. I let him know about the charity tournament on Sunday to benefit Mike's family. While I have never met that player before, we shared a moment of connection as we remembered a man who had touched our lives.

Throughout the weekend I worked hard registering players, handling issues, and serving on the floor team of the main event. I enjoyed mentoring new judges, receiving council from experienced ones, and making new friends. I did some things well, and some things that I need to work on. But when I returned home and thought about the weekend as a whole, the thing that stood out to me the most were the stories from the mouths of the players.

I'm going to borrow a sentiment that Jess Dunks shared with the judge staff at SCG Louisville a few weeks ago: to us this is another event, but to a player this may be the pinnacle of their Magic career. Of course there are grinders and pros who attend lots of GPs, but they exist alongside local players and folks who traveled to attend this one special event. We as judges have the monumental task of determining what kind of experience each of those players has.

To A Judge

I follow you on facebook. I see your struggles. I see your ups and your downs. You share your life so honestly with the world. I admire you.

We have a lot of mutual friends. I hear the things they say about you. How much you know. How you have helped them. When you are struggling. How much they care about you.

I remember spying the back of your judge hoodie in the Denver airport. It was my first time traveling to a GP alone. You remembered me. You helped me take the bus to the hotel. It was late and cold. I was alone and scared. You made me feel welcome and safe.

Denver was a tough weekend for me. My personal demons reared their ugly heads. I never told anyone how much I was hurting, how much I just wanted to quit, go home, and hide under a blanket and never come out. You were there to make me smile, to show me what strength looks like, and to remind me that no matter the turmoil inside, I could face each day and make it great.

We've worked together since then. You have supported me on rough days. We've shared rides, shared meals, and shared stories - shared moments of our lives. We've had a few chats, but nothing too deep.

But today, on a day where we remember a friend that we lost too soon, I feel compelled to say the words to you. The ones that stick in my throat for fear of getting too close or being too real. The ones I think every time I see you hurting and want to reach out to you, but don't.

Thank you for being real. Thank you for being there. Thank you for sharing your story so openly with the judge community. Thank you for serving as an example of how to overcome challenges and for being a pillar of strength in an uncertain world. Thank you for never giving up and thank you for continuing to dream big. You are an inspiration to me and an example of what I hope to become.

I believe in you.

Judgiversary

I'm sitting alone in a hotel room in Mexico City. My roommates already left for the early shift. I'm munching on a granola bar from my backpack and pecking away at my computer, lamenting the fact that I didn't pre-prepare an awesome Judgiversary post. But that wouldn't be me. This blog is about celebrating my journey as a Magic judge in its rawest form, so preprinted sentiments would not be authentic enough for my tastes. Instead, I'll tell you the truth . .  .

I'm tired. My body aches all over and the headache has been with me for almost 2 weeks now. My shoulders and back are sore, I've lost feeling in one toe and am missing a toenail from another. My hair is dingy, my lips are cracked and I think this frog-voice my be permanent. When I get up in the morning, the limp from the plantar fasciitis takes longer and longer to subside. But more than my physical ills, I'm mentally exhausted. All the writing, traveling, networking, and learning new things each take their toll. I miss my family. My husband and 3 kids are at home without me. I'm alone in a foreign country where I'll see nothing but the inside of a hotel and convention center.

One year ago today I passed my L1. 

One year.

One crazy, exhausting, amazing, unbelievable year.

Many stories from that year are recorded my this blog: passing the L1, working my first event, passing the L2, organizing my first judge conference, my first team lead. Stories of the people, places, and experiences that have shaped me as a judge, and as a person. 

Some stories are not recorded. They are just too numerous to write. Some are reviews or exemplars. Some are too personal and too painful to share publicly. Some are still in the editing process. But those stories matter too. Each experience has shaped me and I will never be the same.

Five weeks ago I embarked on my most ambitious schedule yet. I judged an SCG Open where I had my first team lead, spoke at a mini conference 5 hours from my home, floor judged GP Orlando, ran registration for GP San Antonio, and judged GP Mexico City - on 5 consecutive weekends. In between I struggled to keep up with my personal and family obligations, hosted judges in my home, worked on our upcoming regional judge conference, wrote and edited blog posts for both my personal blog and for The Feedback Loop, and studied for an L3P.

While I wouldn't actually recommend this particular schedule, I also wouldn't change it. Each of these weekends offered me unique opportunities and steps I need to take to meet my personal goals in the judge program. From team leading for the first time to my first international event, my growth as a judge has taken off during this period. I'm excited to use my Spanish to help players and to work for a new TO. I'm gaining confidence in everything from my ability to translate Magic cards to my ability to ride a bus. (Yes, public transportation terrifies me.)

One of the most important things I've learned from judging is that you get out what you put in. I've chosen to invest myself in the program, and it has in turn invested in me. The time and effort I have chosen to spend have resulted in opportunities that I have opted to take. The cycle continues with me continually improving and learning and the program continuing to build me up.

I'm going to take a minute to thank a few people who have chosen to invest in me:

Jessica Livingston for our long talk last night after a hot chocolate date. Your insights keep me on track and your friendship means the world to me.

David Hibbs for stepping up to be our RC as well as an amazing mentor and friend. You took a chance on me and you continue to accept me despite my flaws and support my goals in the judge program.

Riki Hayashi for believing in me. When I first approached you, I had no idea what your reaction would be, but you accepted the feedback I offered and have invested in me and given me additional opportunities. 

John Carter for mentoring me. Words cannot express what your friendship and advice has meant to me this year. We met on my first weekend as a judge and you saw something in me that was worth developing. You are a demanding teacher, but I respect the high standards you hold for me and I'll continue striving to improve.

Sara Mox for listening to me. When I was lost in a complicated situation and didn't know where to turn, you took the time to help me sort out my convoluted thoughts and pointed me in the right direction. I'm still a judge today because of you.

Jeff Zandi, Dawna Havnar, Joe Sapp, Jim Shuman, James Anderson, Kyle Knudson, Sean Catanese, Antonio Zanutto, Ben Quasnitschka you guys each were a part of my GP Albuquerque weekend and my first weekend as a judge. Those early insights shape the judge I have become. Thanks for being a part of the train wreck that was my introduction to the fabulous world of judge travel.

My family. My mom serves as our babysitter. She's always there to help out when travel plans are crazy, tournaments run long, and the migraines hit after an event. While I'm not always good at expressing it, I appreciate my mom more that I can describe. She has loved and supported me and my family through this crazy journey with a smile on her face and enough energy to keep up with all the moving pieces.

Brian Leonard. My amazing husband has stepped up and supported my dreams in a way I never even imagined. When I told him my lofty judge goals, he said, "We'll make it happen." Despite working full time and being a college student, he spends his weekends taking care of 3 preschoolers so that I can travel the world in my judge blacks. He's always there to listen to my rantings, proofread my blog posts, work at my judge conferences, floor judge for me, and tell me when I'm wrong. His integrity, honesty, and unfailing love have made my journey possible. 

To wrap things up, last June at GP Columbus, my team lead Adena Chernosky asked us about our judge goals. One of mine was to judge a GP in Latin America. Well . . . . check! Take that one off the list! 

I still have many things I want to accomplish as a judge, so I'd better go hop in the shower because my shift starts in 2 hours. I can't imagine a better way to spend my first Judgiversary than on the floor.

Trial By Fire

The Judge Program is not robust enough to have clear operational manuals on things. There's a strong oral and observational tradition for teaching these tasks.    - Riki Hayashi

In the judge program, I've been given a lot of amazing opportunities. In almost every case, those opportunities have come as a surprise to me.  On Wednesday, SCG Open Head Judge Steven Briggs posted the schedule for the weekend. I opened it and discovered that my name appeared as a team lead.

Now to be fair, I've been working towards my Team Lead Certification (TLC), but the most recent feedback I had received is that I lacked the experience to team lead. With that in mind, I had opted to apply to a few more GPs and request Main Event assignments to get in some reps on the floor. I had mentally put the TLC in the 'later' category and moved on to other pursuits. Suddenly TLC popped back to the forefront in a most unexpected way.

I scanned the rest of the list and noted the other team leads. Jason Daniels, a guy who gave me a bit of advice that nudged me into believing I could become a judge and who has challenged me to improve every time we've worked together. John Trout, another well-known, quality local judge with a ton of experience. Josh McCurley, my judge mentor. The guy who guided me through my rocky path into the judge program and has talked me off a few ledges. He's been with me every step of this journey and I couldn't be here without him. Joe Klopchic, who spent several hours chatting with me after my last Open and gave me my first real evaluation as a judge. David Hibbs, my RC, and a person for whom I have the deepest level of respect. David's quiet strength and exceptional level of personal integrity produce a trustworthy leader whose presence shapes an event.

Clearly my name appeared on the incorrect line. I read it again. I refreshed the page. Nope. Still there. I couldn't make sense of it for a minute. Why would they make me a team lead? I looked at the other judges on the list and noted quite a few with more experience than me. Baffled, I continued scanning the document.

In an even more bizarre twist, the word printed above my name: Deck Checks. First off, I've never liked doing a deck check. My hands are awkward and clumsy, and my inexperience with the game of Magic means I rarely recognize cards by name or art. For me deckchecking is a painful, tedious process likely to produce migraine headaches. Equipped with an updated contact lens prescription, I hoped at least the headaches would not interfere with this new assignment.

I successfully avoided deckcheks for most of my early judge career, however, noting that serving on each team comprised a TLC requirement, I had resigned myself to learning deckchecks and requested a day of them at GP Louisville. That one day encompassed my entire deckchecking experience. While it was a good day, I spent it desperately trying to speed up my times and not really paying as much attention to the logistics of the team as a whole.

After the initial panic subsided, I realized that I had a lot of work to do. I reread Briggs' e-mail twice. I noted his preferences and foci and considered my next steps. His clearly detailed expectations set a tone of attention to detail and I immediately felt more comfortable knowing what would be expected of me. I set up a facebook chat group with my team and introduced myself to them. I called a judge friend and asked for some tips on deckchecks team leading. I reread the IPG sections on D/DLP and Marked Cards. I pulled out my judge notebook and jotted down a quick break schedule for my team. I messaged Briggs with a few questions about his specific preferences for deckchecks.

After my kids went to bed, I sat down to do some more serious research. I checked out the JudgeApps and facebook profiles of each of my team members. I found that I had an L2 who was getting back into big events and 3 L1s with relatively little large event experience. All seemed to be competent judges who might need some guidance on the logistical aspects of our team's role in the event as a whole. Only one of them had I previously worked with. Those observations shaped my approach to leading my team.

The next day, I called a senior judge and we talked for several hours. I had him walk me through the minutiae of deckchecks one detail at a time. From, "Do I have to ask the scorekeeper for a list of random tables or do they normally do that on their own?" to "What does 'pulling day 2 lists' mean?" Thank goodness for his patience while I asked him about how to organize lists, how many checks to do, how to pair my guys, what to say in my team meeting, and everything else. I frantically wrote seven notebook pages of really important notes like, "keep lists in box." He added the details that demonstrate finesse to my rudimentary understanding of the deckchecks process as well as generally educating me on the basic concepts. I ended that conversation feeling completely out of my league and overwhelmed. He sensed my panic and told me that when a situation comes up all I need to do is: Stop. Breathe. Ask what makes sense.  His confidence in me may have been the only confidence at that point.

That evening I messaged Josh McCurley, my longtime judge mentor and anchor. He also expressed confidence in me and added more information and tips. I had no idea that coverage would want to see decklists or that I'd also be asked to do targeted checks by various folks. I especially love that he always makes time for my neurotic questions and never tires of helping me out. I fell asleep that night with so many ideas swimming in my head.

On Friday Briggs sent out more information to the team leads. The fact that we didn't have a TL meeting added to my fears. I tried to assimilate everything I knew into a plan that made sense, but it wouldn't come together in my head. Joe and Emily Klopchic arrived in the afternoon and Joe sat down with me and went over things again. His wisdom has been invaluable to me on several occasions now. His patient manner helped calm me down a bit and his confidence in me surprised me, but it felt good to know someone of his quality believed in me.

That evening Emily and I went out to dinner. I confided my fears to her and she replied, "They didn't make you a team lead because they think you'll be perfect. They made you a team lead because they think you can handle it when things get [messed] up." Somehow those words changed my thinking. I went to bed Friday night feeling good.

During the night I slept poorly, whether it be due to nerves or excitement is debatable, but either way I couldn't seem to drift off. I also messaged with one of my team members whose bus delayed in another state. His updates made it clear that we'd be starting the day without him. My groggy 3am brain automatically shifted the pieces into place for how I could utilize his partner to help organize lists during round 1 with me while I sent the other pair on a mid-round check and then reevaluate once he arrived. I drifted back to sleep with logistics dancing in my head.

The morning brought an early start. A hot shower reduced the sharp pain from inflamed plantar fasciitis and my sore lower back. Breakfast consisted of a children's Tylenol and a Gatorade. I know, I've heard all the 'take care of yourself' mantras. I rarely use Tylenol, but I could barely walk, so I took one. The Gatorade is a part of my hydration plan for the event. With two more Gatorades tucked in my judge bag, we hit the road right on time.

We arrived in plenty of time to don our Star City blue judge shirts, greet our friends, and start the day. Joe, who is a saint, brought me some hot chocolate from Starbucks. As I prepared for judging, my routine calmed the butterflies in my stomach. I clipped on my nametag, filled my pocket with two judge pens, a notebook, a Sharpie, lip balm, and my token, and tucked in my shirt. Seeing the team around me doing likewise, a sense of calm descended on me. My team members gravitated to me and I welcomed them.

Briggs began the day with a hearty greeting. He then asked team leads who they were missing and I let him know about our stranded traveler. Following the initial announcements I met with my team and detailed our day's tasks and plans to them. They seemed eager and on top of things. Relief filled me as instinct kicked in and things fell into place. I bounced back and forth between coordinating with other team leads and communicating with my team. Hibbs, Nate Hurley, and I put together a plan to collect decklists and distribute goodies at the start of the day. I found the decklist box and prepared it for use. I checked in with scorekeeper Patrick Vorbroker. Each task I mentally ticked off my list strengthened my confidence.

As the event began, each team distributed and collected as assigned. I rounded up the decklists and my team set to work turning the piles into an organized, alphabetized system. We got that round 1 mid-round deckcheck in, but missed our goal of having all the lists done by the end of the first round. As my partner swooped round 2, I noted that O/P was the only remaining pile. After our round 2 checks, we knocked it out. Briggs advised me to check if the owners of the four missing decklists had dropped. Before I even had a chance to do so, one of my team members reported that he'd checked, and in fact all four had dropped. We threw in a targeted check, and still had time to hit the floor to help with end of round.

I sent my partner on a round 3 break, and the other pair in round 4. I also had one of them pick up Starbucks for our team. Knowing that we were down a person and one of them had driven in early in the morning, the little treat seemed the obvious choice to boost morale. (And if you know me, you will be aware of my hot chocolate addiction.) I managed to take some time off the floor in round 5 myself and used the time to meet with another judge about an unrelated project.

Our checks improved as the day went on and I saw each of my team members improving. I made some brief notes for use in later review writing. I issued a few D/DLP penalties and Briggs corrected me for how I noted them on the slips. I really appreciate him taking the time to point out an error to me and give me the opportunity to fix it during the day. It reminded me to provide real-time feedback to other judges as well.

I took a moment to sit down with Emma, the day 2 deckchecks lead to discuss the handoff. I let her know of my plan to pull the lists before leaving. In round 8 we pulled the first batch and in 9 we pulled more after our checks were completed. I noted the team behind me sorting match slips and used those to pull even more lists. Balancing the stage's requests for day 2 lists to copy with pulling proved to be an exciting challenge. My team worked through the debrief and had almost all the lists done by the time our day ended. Joe helped me pull the final few before we left. I felt good about handing off the lists with day 2 ready to go.

The day itself felt rather anti-climactic. Judges nailed their assignments, players received first class treatment, and we all had a blast. Looking back, I felt like there were several times where someone asked me to do a task, and I simply let them know the answer or that it had been completed. While I didn't really know I was supposed to do it, some combination of instinct and preparations just led me to doing things that needed done.  I looked around at the folks in blue shirts and realized that while many of them have more experience than me, I can in fact work alongside them and add value to the event.