| Headie |
12-06-2019 02:33 PM |
Quote:
There are only a few moments that I want to address IN the game.
First and foremost, I will call attention to the elephant in the room, RACE. No one ever wants to open the can of worms, stir the pot, and there is certainly less incentive if you find yourself in the majority. I was that person a long time ago, even though I am Black. Growing up in predominantly White communities where you are made to feel like you do not belong can indirectly teach you to silence yourself. Years ago, I made a vow to myself that I would no longer conform to be accepted by the majority, that I would be educated and informed, and I would not be silenced by anyone or myself.
I hit the Fijian sand ready to play. On the first night, I hear the word ******. Let me offer some context. The tribe was sitting around the fire playing a game where you quote a movie line, and others guess the movie. The line was “Look at that ****** on a horse.”; the movie, Django. As soon as the word hit the air, all looks either hit the floor with the quickness or subtly adjusted to me, the only Black castaway on Kama beach. Everyone shifted a little on their logs, uncomfortable to say the least. I say, “Django?” through gritted teeth. Ding, ding, ding. I win, huh? “Wow,” I thought. On day one, really? A social game, and we’re out here dropping racial slurs? Or is it okay because it was woven into a quote in a game? No one says anything, no one brings it up. Even me.
To be honest, I was shocked. If what I was feeling in that moment was reflective of the next 39 days, I was unsure if I was ready. I thought I was ready for anything… except this. I did not think I was going to have to hit the beach and fight against racism and bias. I do that enough in my daily life. Only 4% of all doctors in the United States are Black. I will be part of this statistic in a few years and have actively battled against education systems not built for me to be successful. I am biracial and have battled against the White side of my family for perpetuating racism; I lost and do not speak to many of them. I do this education and advocacy thing. But Survivor too? Damn.
There was one bright light in all of this, and his name is Ron Clark. Ron approached me a day or two later by the fire and asked me how I felt about hearing the word. I told him I was uncomfortable and annoyed, shocked that there would be such a lack of respect and awareness. I held back most of my true emotion, as it was still early on in the game. I didn’t want him to think that I was a race crusader or to see me as potentially bringing problems to the tribe. I still had a game to win. We talked, he consoled me, and told me about his students and his Black husband. I slept next to him every night moving forward – in the shelter and on Edge.
Days later, the word is said again. Same context (seems like this is a trend), quoting a South Park episode, where the Wheel of Fortune word is N*GGERS, and ******* is guessed although the correct answer is naggers. Never saw the episode, and at this point, I have no intention to. Furious is an understatement of how I was feeling in that moment. As I was about to bite whatever bullet was going to come my way and say something, Ron interjects and says, “You cannot say that word!” A villain to you, a hero to me. A weight was lifted off my shoulders as Ron, a White man, led the charge against racism in camp. I chimed in, recalling repeated instances of racial slurs and negative racial references being used at camp. The tribe ended up having a very healthy dialogue about race, each person contributing a different perspective. We talked about the Starbucks incident (which had occurred just before we left for Fiji), institutional discrimination, cultural competency training, and bias. I am not sure how much was actually absorbed, but it felt good to finally speak my peace with the support of Ron. The unfortunate reality of it is that it took Ron speaking up for the issue to be addressed. It often takes someone in the majority to support marginalized individuals in order for them to be heard and for anything to be done. It baffles me that the use of the word ****** rolled off of the tongue so easily, especially in the presence of a Black person. Was it because I was a woman? Would this person have repeatedly used this word if I was a Black male on the tribe? Whew, there are so many layers.
Of the many confessionals that I did that you at home did not get to see, this was a significant one. I was asked to do a confessional not long after the incident, and I already knew what to expect. As soon as I sat down for my confessional, I was in tears, expressing all of the emotion that I had pent up since I landed in Fiji. Not only were there only two Black castaways on season 38, we were separated, and I was the only one on my island. I was distraught, opening up about how saddening it is to have to deal with such overt racial differences during my once-in-a-lifetime Survivor experience. But worse than all of that was the fact that I had to deal with it all alone. I talked about how I could not say what I wanted to say and address the situation in the way that I would at home in the game. No one would understand, or even if they understood, it wouldn’t be a priority to them. No one but Ron even addressed what was happening. I was conflicted. Socially, I wanted to just shut down. Speak up and put a target on my back or bite my tongue in order to maneuver my way through the game without much attention? It hurt me to feel as though I was back in that place in my life where I felt so silenced, that I would choose $1 million dollars over defending myself. In that moment, I chose the game. I stand by that decision, but never again. In or out of game, you should always stand up for yourself. By the time I finished the confessional, the camera crew, who were from South Africa (one being Black), and the producer were in tears. I received an apology from production for having to deal with this and was given praises for how respectfully I handled the situation at camp. “I have had my whole life to train,” I thought to myself. Well over a one-hour confessional, and 0 seconds of it were shown. Some stories take precedent I guess, and once again, this teaching moment wasn’t worth opening that can of worms to the viewers. “Duh duh duh duh, NEWSFLASH: racism on Kama beach sparks controversial but enlightening dialogue amongst the castaways. Will never make the edit, but a great moment nonetheless, especially in today’s political climate.” I got up, stretched my legs, wiped my eyes, and walked back to camp. Smile, Julia.
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I'm not surprised production covered it up, especially if it was Joe. |
