Competence

I had a strange feeling today. A feeling that’s new to me at the end of a long weekend on a big event. I felt competent. Not ‘I barely survived another weekend.’ Not ‘At least no one noticed how many calls I punted.’ Not ‘Thank goodness for my team lead who saved my rear on that call.’ I articulated it at the judge party by saying, “Wow, I don’t think I punted a call all weekend.”

Feeling competent encompasses a lot more than getting calls right and not making mistakes, but I’ll get to that in a minute. First, I’d like to take a moment to celebrate my correctness. Rules have presented a challenge for me. I’ve struggled to understand the concepts that make the game work and grappled with the complex terminology used to convey precise details about each situation. Over the last few months I’ve put a lot of extra effort into this area and with the assistance of mentor Nate Hurley, I’m finally starting to see results.

It came on subtly at first. When I started out as a brand new judge, I’d answer a judge call hoping for a bathroom time extension request or Oracle text of a card whose name I could spell. Trepidation filled me each time a player raised their hand. Slowly, over the months and years, I’ve felt a change. I’d take a call, and the answer would slide unbidden into my thoughts. I didn’t trust myself, and would rush to confer with a colleague only to be surprised that my inkling was correct. Over the past few months that feeling has evolved. Now a player’s call triggers excitement and an opportunity to provide assistance. I listen to the situation with a deeper understanding of which factors matter and know what questions to ask. The answer flows from my brain like a natural phenomenon. I know what I can handle and when to ask for help. I welcome chances to learn along with the players when situations get complicated or interesting.

I feel it in my mannerisms at the table. I go through a standard greeting setting the tone for the call while taking a look at the board state. I understand the player’s need and ask the opponent’s input if relevant. I consider if there is an infraction and assess the appropriate penalty, remembering to consider upgrades and downgrades. I apply fixes after a clear explanation to the players. I don’t forget to note time extensions and check for understanding before moving on. (Thanks Mikhail Chernov for helping me understand and master my steps to taking a judge call.)

What felt remarkable to me this weekend was the fact that each call felt routine. I knew my steps and executed them confidently. While doing so I was able to focus on the heart of the call and clearly understand the issue or problem facing the players. I’ve been working on my technique for a while, but marrying it with comfort with the rules as well felt new. It freed my mind to consider cheating more carefully, to seek better questions to ask, and to stay alert for potential pitfalls along the way.

I approached each call with the skills and the knowledge to handle it, and that gave me the confidence to enjoy the work more than ever before. That does not mean that I didn’t confer with my colleagues! In fact, I found myself doing so quite often, but with a different tone than before. I was no longer seeking rescue, but confirmation. I was suggesting the fix and saying, "Does that sound right?" I was discussing corners of policy rather than struggling to follow the discussion.

In an interesting twist, many times I was consulted by other judges. Sometimes a quick drive by ‘this works this way, right?’ and sometimes a more complex request to join them at the table. Being seen by my colleagues as a person they can turn to for help is one of the highest honors I have ever received as a judge.

Outwardly I appeared the same, but inside, I could feel the difference. I could feel the competence.

Advice

This recently appeared on the Judge of the Week blog in an article featuring exemplar recipients, but I'm sharing it here as a part of my personal journey as well. 

What are some of the best pieces of judging advice you have been given?

When I became a new judge, lots of people offered suggestions and ideas. The best of those tidbits came from my judge mentor Josh McCurley who recommended, "Whatever shoes you wear every day, buy them in black and make them your judge shoes." Well, I have a pair of Clarks that are blue and grey and super comfortable. I wear them with jeans for everyday things like walking, taking my kids to various parks and activities, and pretty much any other time that I need to wear shoes. So I called the Clarks store and was excited to find out that they came in solid black and they had a pair in my size in stock. I picked them up as I was headed out of town for GP Albuquerque and my first day as a certified judge. I have worn those shoes literally every single day that I have judged. And Josh was right, they are super comfortable on my feet, and I am super comfortable in them.

However, Josh's advice extends beyond just shoes. Whoever you are every day, be that person when you're wearing judge blacks. I'm a homemaker. I spend my days managing 5 preschoolers - juggling laundry, bills, PTA meetings, and dance classes while trying to cook dinner and find a child's missing shoe. I'm a certified educator with a background in retail and I've done social media and marketing for a nonprofit. As a judge, that means I'm good at management and logistics with an eye for customer service. Unlike many judges I'm not a programmer or an accountant, and learning the detailed intricacies of the rules of Magic poses more difficulty for me. The important thing to me is understanding who I am and my own personal strengths and weaknesses, both as a judge and as a person. If knowledge is power, then knowing yourself gives you the power to leverage your unique talents into being the most effective judge.

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.