When I was in elementary school, Thursday nights were my absolute favorite time of the week. Before I was allowed to stay up late enough to watch Survivor, I would fall asleep to the muffled sounds of the show filtering either up from the living room or through the wall I shared with my parents’ room. Survivor became this magical hour that I would one day be privy to sharing with my parents, and after I turned nine, I officially became a super-fan.
I don’t quite know why I became so fascinated with the show and its premise. Some of my favorite books growing up included The Swiss Family Robinson and My Side of the Mountain. The stories about kids living on their own in nature fascinated me—the way they built their own houses, figured out what plants they could eat, and dealt with hardship never failed to hold my attention. Lewis and Clark, Sacagawea, and Laura Ingalls Wilder were my third-grade heroes. It only made sense, then, that I would love Survivor.
A slight digression for those of you who are unfamiliar with the show itself. Eighteen contestants (they call them “castaways”) are split into two or three tribes and left on the beach with an incredibly lean supply of beans and rice, as well as access to a well with clean water. These tribes build a shelter together and then compete against the other tribe(s) in reward and immunity challenges. The former provide comfort items to the winners—think pizza, pillows, and letters from loved ones—while the latter sends the losing tribe to a tribal council, where they then vote one of their members off the island. After the numbers dwindle, the groups merge and the challenges become individually-based. People eliminated after the merge become jury members, and the final three castaways make their case in front of this jury. The “sole survivor” wins a million dollars after thirty-nine days on the island (though they’ve also sent contestants to Australia, Africa, and the jungles of Guatemala).
The byline of the show is “Outwit, Outplay, Outlast,” and this captures the central struggle of the show. Not only does the winner have to merely survive in this harsh, difficult environment for over a month, but they must “outlast” the other contestants by performing well in challenges and navigating the social situations with the right balance of loyalty and treachery. The addition of that social pressure is what makes this show so fascinating—people make and break alliances with one another, struggle over decisions to betray their friends, and deal with the paranoia of a potential “blindside.” In one of my favorite seasons, mother/daughter, father/son, husband/wife, and sibling pairs were separated into two tribes, and this is where those social struggles became most difficult. After the merge, one castaway had to vote out her mother in order to gain the trust of her alliance.
After ten years of watching and thirty seasons, I still love the show. Jeff Probst, the host, has worn the same cargo-shorts-and-button-down-with-a-baseball-cap every season, and some of the contestants from the first seasons have returned to play again. The premise has remained the same, but the new combinations of people and intriguing twists in the rules have kept the show from becoming trite or boring. Sometimes, favorite contestants return for another shot at the million dollars, and the show has collected enough (in)famous players that this current season features “game-changers,” or people who have helped redefine various strategies in the game or demonstrate the various kinds of strength that can help you win the game.
That’s what is so remarkable about this show: the prettiest, strongest, or smartest contestants aren’t shoe-ins. Sometimes it’s the overweight woman who had never been camping before Survivor. A few years ago, this nerdy, scrawny super-nerd won because of his good-natured, self-deprecating humor, passion for the game, and unarrogant intelligence. Additionally, the relationships that form and the conversations that people have truly genuine and remarkable. There are very few occasions where a man from rural Louisiana would ever end up working alongside a gay businessman from Los Angeles, or where a retired basketball player would follow the lead of a teen mother, but these situations happen. They aren’t scripted or staged. There is no way to hide behind makeup or wealth or appearances: in fact, some of those advantages end up being a disadvantage. Everyone is on this island together, and this equalizer creates an environment where you have to trust the people around you while also focusing on your own well-being.
This show changes peoples’ lives. Couples have met and married after meeting on Survivor. Overweight contestants lose upwards of a hundred pounds. Young people find confidence in their ability to fight for what they want. Older people find that they can still hold their own. The nerd sometimes beats the athletes in physical challenges, and the huge lug can be a puzzle powerhouse. The loudest voices are often voted out first, and the quiet leaders take control of the game out from other peoples’ noses. If I’ve learned anything from this show, it’s that everyone has their own value. Everyone is stronger than they ever could have imagined themselves to be. Everyone learns something about themselves and the world.
One day, I want to be on that island. But in the meantime, I’ll keep learning vicariously through the other castaways.
Image credits: Feature, Giphy