Thursday, August 30, 2018

On the Meaning of Competition Scores

I've recently had the opportunity to judge competitions at a number of swing dance events, including All Balboa Weekend, Balast Off, and the International Lindy Hop Championships. That means I've had to make some tough decisions regarding some amazing dancing, and I've also seen the impact that my scores have had on the competitors. I love judging competitions because it gives me an opportunity to (a) participate without the stress of making finals, (b) practice understanding and implementing my own values, and (c) share my opinions with my community about in which direction our dance ship should sail. I've heard many people respond for better and worse to the scores they received (not necessarily from me), so I'd like to  share some insights into what my competition scores mean. (Insert here a disclaimer that these are my opinions and other judges may [and probably do] feel differently.)

On Prelims

In prelims, judges are given a certain number of "yes" votes and a certain number of "maybe" or "alternate" votes by the contest organizer. So if you get a "yes" or a "maybe" from me as a judge in prelims, it means...

  • When I was scanning the room looking for standout dancers, I noticed your dancing.
  • Your technique, timing, and teamwork stood out in comparison with the other dancers'.
  • On the basis of what I saw in prelims, I believe I can trust you to perform for the audience in finals.
If you didn't get a mark from me in prelims, it might mean that your technique, timing, or teamwork was not as good as the other competitors' or that I don't think your dancing is quite ready for an audience to sit and watch you. 

But there are other much more mundane reasons why you might not get a mark in prelims: 
  • A crowded floor (such as with big heats) made it challenging to see everyone for a sufficient amount of time.
  • I did see you, but not at the right time.
  • An unusually large number of competitors entered the contest, meaning the number of dancers who get a callback is small. For example, in a prelim with 80 contestants, I may get only 12 yesses and 5 maybes.
  • Many dancers are similar and I am forced to choose and I cannot choose everyone I liked.

On Finals 

In finals, judges must rank the dancers. Top placements mean much more than low placements. A high placement means...
  • I enjoyed your dancing.
  • You had great technique, timing, and teamwork (or at least these 3Ts were better than the alternatives).
  • You went above and beyond the 3Ts with your level of difficulty or risk, performance quality, creativity, musicality, and individual and/or partnership voice. 
  • Your dancing fit the parameters of the contest (e.g., in a Balboa contest, you are dancing Balboa...whatever that means to the individual judge!)
  • I would show your dance to another person and say "that's great Balboa" or "that's great Lindy Hop." 
However, a low placement does not mean that I didn't enjoy your dance. It might mean...
  • Your dance had technical or structural problems that other dances did not have or did not have to the same degree. Technical and/or structure problems are not moral failings. 
  • Your dancing did not fit the parameters of the contest (e.g., dancing Boogie Woogie in a Lindy Hop contest, dancing Balboa too much like it's Lindy Hop). (This is also not a moral failing.)
Or a low placement might mean I didn't really like that particular piece of dancing because it wasn't in alignment with my values. There's no rule that everyone has to like everything. And if I didn't like a particular dance in a particular contest, that doesn't mean I dislike all your dancing all the time or that you are a bad person or a bad dancer. My opinion is not an indication of a moral failing on your part.

Rocks and Hard Places

The nature of a contest means that I am forced to choose. I often like different dances for different reasons, and my job is to choose which value(s) to prioritize when making my rankings. The values being prioritized differ depending on the judge and can even vary within the same judge depending on the exact dances within a particular contest. For example, when I am judging, I value partnering skills above, say, level of difficulty or risk. If all the competitors demonstrate great partnering, then the dancers who took more risks or had a higher degree of difficulty will probably place higher than dancers with less difficult or risky dances. However, it is challenging to weigh a dance with lots of difficulty and risk but less than optimal partnering against a dance with great partnering that was easy and kind of dull...how the placements sort out will depend on the particular dances in question. 

Moreover, it's important to remember (or realize!) that contest placements are made on an ordinal scale—they are in order, but the distinctions between 1st, 2nd, 3rd places and so forth cannot be meaningfully quantified. All of the dances might have been great, or there might have been one (or more) dances light years better than others. Sometimes I want to give all the dances third place. Nevertheless, as a judge I have been forced to choose to put the dances in order. The dances might have been so different than it's barely meaningful to put them in order at all, and yet into order they must go. 

Caveats and Provisos 

Judges give the scores in a contest, but should you trust their opinions? To a degree, yes. A good judge is a person with experience and expertise in the dance style of the contest. A good judge is able to know their own values and explain them to others. A good judge can critically evaluate others' dancing just by watching in a short amount of time and come to conclusions on the basis of their values and the evidence. A good judge is not afraid to make the decision they think is best on the basis of the dancing in that contest—not because of personal friendships, nepotism, or popular opinions. 

At the same time, judges are only human. We are not omniscient or infallible. Every time I judge, I wonder, "what will people think of my choices?" And then I try to make the best decisions I can anyway. We are doing our best—just like you are as a competitor—and once again, the nature of the contest format itself means that we are forced to choose. Even if we do not choose you, that does not mean that we do not like your dancing or value your contributions. 

Likewise, contests in and of themselves speak only to one aspect of dancing. A contest dance can't tell you whether a person is fun to dance with (although it might give you an idea). It can't tell you whether a person is kind, or thoughtful, or a good (dance) listener. Although swing dance contests have been around as long as swing dancing itself, social dancing, not contests, is the essence of dancing. Contests are meant to be fun. Although they do have influence over trends in the community and who is hired to teach or perform, they are not the ultimate arbiter of what is good and bad in swing. Do not ascribe more worth to them than they are due. Remember that the heart of the dance is on the social floor.

Making Meaning

So say that you understand that contests are not the be-all and end-all of dancing, but you still want to understand why you got a particular score. To make meaning of a judge's score, the best thing to do is to consider the result in the context of the judge's values. If you don't know that judge's values, ask them! Ask me! (This conversation is especially fun in person.) Get to know judges as people (I promise, we are people too). If you are an organizer, ensure you know the values of the people you ask to judge contests and that they know their own values too. Perhaps you discover that the judge's values do not match your own—that's okay! There is no rule that we must all agree about everything.  

Because even more important than the values of the judge are your own values and the values of the people you trust—and the judges of a particular contest may or may not be included in that list of "people you trust." (Remember, organizers are people too, and there may be constraints of which you are unaware, for example, about who is available to judge.) Although a good judge has credentials worth respecting, ultimately your own opinion matters the most, because your dancing is personal. It is yours to enjoy and care for over the years. 

Win or lose, the bottom line is this: Don't put your self-worth in the hands of other people, including competition judges. If you win, it feels great but you may lose the opportunity to take chances or make changes for fear of not winning anymore. If you lose, you may feel terrible about yourself, become discouraged, and even quit dancing. Instead, work to understand your own values and bring your dancing into alignment with them. Competitions are a fun way to perform for the community, but the meaning you make of them is up to you, and they are only a piece of the swing community experience. 

Dance your dance like no one is watching—even when someone is actually watching.