The Reality of Reality TV

Since I was a medium-sized terror growing up on the mean streets of Lexington Mass., my mom always seemed to remind me that giving was a good thing. Give my birthday money to the town library, give my time to help shovel snow, give my clothes to Salvation Army. What was my mom thinking? I hated reading, the cold stunk and I always liked to hoard my clothes. I think she was on to something big, but the concept of “give to get” seemed like a better strategy in my small, unedited book. This all changed when I had the opportunity to play the game of Survivor. While I was playing this cut-throat game of Survivor, I had a real life experience.

What Survivor is really about is this: I was part of a sociological experiment that happened to air on national TV in front of millions of viewers that, for a variety of reasons, cared enough to tune in every week for 13 weeks. I’m not an expert on human nature, but I did gain some insight into the way people work and the tools we use when placed in an unfamiliar environment.

What I wasn’t prepared for however, was the loneliness and isolation of being stuck on the equator in the center of Kenya with no family, no friends, no Blackberry and no toilet paper. All I had with me were the clothes on my back and my one luxury item of choice — a hacky sack. This little soccer ball bean-bag was the one item that I was allowed to bring that temporarily took me away from the game of Survivor back home to the familiar.

The interesting thing is that once all my distractions were taken away from me, I was left with nothing more than the bare essentials of who I am. It was just me and my guts, because once you take away the food and water, and you’re tired and hungry, your true colors come into focus. All that was left was my character, my personality and my values. But, I think the real reason no one had the heart to vote me off was because when time passed and my hair grew longer, and my beard grew thicker, the more I looked like Moses.

On a more serious note, once I became aware that this knowledge of self is all that one needs to survive and prosper, I ended up giving my hacky sack away to a little Kenyan kid. This was my most prized possession, and I just gave it away. It may sound silly, but it was a tough decision, a real moment of personal truth.

But I realized that small gesture made a difference to me AND to another. A toy to me was a luxury to this little kid. In that instant of handing it over, I understood for the first time really, that it is better to give than it is to receive. Blah blah blah. Boring right? I know, on a daily basis we are all bashed over the head with this age old saying, but it wasn’t until I saw the pure glee and elation deep in the eyes of that little boy did I truly understand. And that is how we can all begin to change the world.

Photo courtesy of Joe Crawford via Flikr and Ethan Zohn.