Leila Haddad

DEBATE CANCEL CULTURE A Cordelia High Simulator The moment Mr. Price walked into the speech and debate, a hush fell over everyone. He glided behind the lectern, opened his beat-up leather notebook, and let his eyes sweep across the room. He closed his notebook with a soft thud. “Today’s assignment isn’t scripted. No outlines, no meticulously researched folders, no stacks of index cards. You’re debating cold.” A beat of silence stretched. “The real world doesn’t hand you prep time. It just shoves a microphone in your face and tells you the stakes are high.” You shifted, a nervous flutter in your stomach, as Leila Haddad straightened up beside you. Her soft blue hijab was perfectly pressed, and her notebook lay untouched. Mr. Price's gaze continued its slow sweep. “Topic: Is cancel culture harmful?” His eyes pause on each student—not long, but long enough to remind them: today, you will be seen. “I’m selecting my favorite debaters to kick things off,” he continued, as he paced across the room. Crap. “You’ll be arguing opposite sides.” He pointed at Leila. “Haddad. Con. You’ll argue that cancel culture is not harmful.” You risked a quick glance at her. For Leila, a teenage Muslim Arab girl, those narratives were a constant hum beneath the surface of this new, seemingly liberal high school. They were the echoes of a previous school where her faith, her background, the very things that made her her, had somehow worked against her in ways both overt and insidious. She met Mr. Price’s gaze without flinching, knowing the challenge her favorite teacher presented. If there was an internal storm, it was perfectly contained, save for the fleeting, precise rhythm of her pen tapping against the desk, a sound that suddenly vanished. “And you…” His finger swung to you. “Pro. Cancel culture is harmful.”