HOLIER THAN THOU
My Survivor Story: Behind the Scenes and Behind the Mask — Part 14
Jeff began, “Welcome to your final tribal council. You have done what 15 other people couldn’t do. You made it to the end. Tonight, the power in this game shifts to the jury. Eight people that you had a hand in voting out now hold your fate in their hands. They will decide who’s most worthy of the title of Sole Survivor, and the million-dollar check that goes along with it. Your job tonight is to convince them it is you who deserves it. Here’s how it’s going to work. You will each get to make an opening statement, and then each member of the jury gets to address you. They will then each write down a name, not to determine whose torch gets snuffed out by me, but to name the winner of this season of Survivor.”
For my opening statement at the final tribal council, I confessed, “My strategy was certainly not pretty. It was basically run wide open and then fall down, then get up, dust myself off, adjust, learn something, and then run some more. But I did play my own game. Unfortunately, one of the big mistakes I made was not following my heart. It wasn’t until my brother came and said, ‘You need to trust your gut and remember this is a game.’ And it hit me, I hadn’t trusted my gut. I had forgotten it was a game. From that point on, I needed to switch. I needed to play this game worthy of this game. It couldn’t be like being in a boxing ring, afraid to throw a punch because I might hurt somebody. At the end, I finally got it. I threw a punch that knocked out the heavyweight champion of this season. I know it wasn’t a pretty game. But I learned. I grew. And I’m proud of the final game I played in the end.”
After Skupin and Denise’s opening statement, it was time for each member of the jury to have their say and ask their questions.
Artis was given the platform to speak first. As we had both been in the original Tandang tribe, I had been loyal to him from the beginning. We were the two oldest players and both felt strongly that staying “Tandang strong” was the surest bet for getting the furthest in the game. Even when it was clear that the luck that had favored Tandang for so long had run out, and when everyone else was happy to vote out Artis, I didn’t write his name down. He looked at all three of us and said, “Normally, this would be the point in the game when you would be congratulated for making it where you are tonight. Unfortunately, I cannot do that.” He then looked directly at me and continued, “Because if you started the game with this holier-than-thou attitude, talking about loyalty, and you played a game totally contradictory to that, you end up reaping what you sow. If you say you’re going to do something and you don’t do it, you suffer the consequences. And the beauty of this game is, when it’s all said and done, karma is a bitch.”
With that, he turned and sat down. Ouch. I sincerely didn’t know where those bitter words had come from, especially given that I’d never betrayed him.
When it was Pete’s turn, he said, “Lisa, I feel like you’ve been hiding behind the fact of saying, ‘I never voted for Artis. I never voted for Pete.’ But it’s kind of like a Judas situation. You didn’t vote for us, but you knew we were going home.”
I quickly interjected, “I didn’t know that Artis was going home. That night, I wrote down Penner’s name. I didn’t know that Artis was the one in the crosshairs. I had made a decision to stick with Tandang, knowing it could cost me a million dollars. I hope this clears that misconception up.”
When Kalabow tribemate, Jeff Kent, got up, he said, “There’s no doubt that we all share a little bit of bitterness, some at different levels than others, because we’re sitting here on the jury and you guys are sitting there in the final three. I’m bitter, too, but I can handle it really well. I’ve learned throughout my life and career that there are three kinds of people: people that make things happen, people that watch things happen, and people that wonder what the hell just happened. Lisa, give me some reasons why, maybe some examples of how you didn’t float around in the middle like Denise did, what separates your game from hers?”
I answered, “I can’t recall even one time when I floated in the middle. I maybe should have floated in the middle because I was fairly wide open the whole time. I was the first one to make a major move when I found out Malcolm had the hidden immunity idol, so I went to Pete and said, ‘This is the time to blindside him.’ We had it all planned, and then in the last 15 minutes before tribal council, my plan blew up. Pete had a different Plan B to send you home, which was still good because it kept our Tandang numbers strong.”
He interrupted, “But that proves my example. You tried to make something happen. You couldn’t make it happen. So you just agreed with everybody else, which means you just floated by.”
I argued back, “No, that’s not true at all. I agreed because it was still part of my plan, which was to keep Tandang numbers strong. Since you were on the Kalabaw tribe, this was still a great plan for my game, and I spoke up and pleaded hard for you to be voted out. I stood up and said, ‘We’ve got Plan B, guys, go with Plan B.’ That’s not floating in the middle. I’d say that’s pretty vocal.”
When it was Abi’s turn, she said, “I was called the most unlikable person in the tribe by the three of you. My heart is broken. Lisa, why do you think I should write down your name to win the million dollars?”
I answered, “I believe I am deserving of your vote because I was absolutely true to the end with our original Tandang alliance, until it disintegrated. And, if that had worked, you and Artis and Pete and I would be sitting in the final four. That’s why I believe I deserve your vote.”
Finally, it was Penner’s turn to address us.
Next Sunday: Penner has been keeping one ace up his sleeve the whole season. He’s about to play it.
Have you ever been on the receiving end of judgment that didn’t match the truth of your situation? I’d love to hear in the comments. And whatever else this brought up for you, I want to hear that too.
Oh em gee! What a cliffhanger! I was reading this waiting to get to Penner’s because I knew enough that he betrays you somehow. I would have crawled under my seat having to face that!
I grew up in a small town-one red light small. Many people knew my family. My grandfather was the mayor there then on the council. My mother and aunt made the papers. Parents didn’t want their kids to play with me, teachers made comments, so many people assumed I would be just like her. I knew very early on I never wanted to follow in her footsteps so I always did the opposite. This is why I embrace being the underdog but for many years I responded with this urge to defend myself fiercely but as I’ve gotten older I’m learning not everything requires a response. I’m trying.
Bipolar-I didn’t always share that. I’m still a little cautious now but I feel if people get to know me they have a right to know or understand. People sometimes think everything is bipolar. I’ve been called crazy. It’s just my mind. I have feelings just like everyone else and I do my best to manage it. So I do my best to try and educate others around me about it if they’re curious. I’m about as normal as anyone else is, considering no one really knows what normal is. lol!
I spent much of my childhood and young adulthood being either overlooked, underrated or scapegoated. I grew up in a time where dyslexia (and certainly dyscalculia) wasn't even a diagnosis. You didn't have a learning disability - you were at the very least lacking ambition and the worst... too stupid to be bothered with. My first grade teacher, a young woman in her first year of teaching, used to show my work to the class as what *not* to do. She never talked to me or even my parents about my problems learning. She wrote me off without even trying. That was followed by a series of teachers who just passed me on to the next grade. A teacher in middle school finally took the time to help me understand how I could work through my disability and I ended up with academic awards in high school. Throughout school, other students thought I was stuck up because I was so quiet. In fact I unknowingly had social anxiety and my fear of failure was so strong that I wouldn't try anything (that cost me a scholarship). Some tried to use my lack of confidence against me, even to the point of blaming me when they were at fault. My best friend hurt me the worst. I still can't go into that. Later, when my then husband and I divorced, our friends all took his side. I was supposed to be the good Christian wife and forgive him for an affair. It didn't matter that he wouldn't even touch me after our daughter was born. That we lived like roommates who barely talked to each other. I was in the wrong because I wasn't willing to sacrifice not only my happiness, but my mental health, to keep our marriage intact. Most of them never did understand or change their opinion. So, I don't let any friends in close. Haven't for decades. There are people I'd like to be closer too, but I just can't seem to trust enough to take that chance again. I care about many of them, but if I tried and they rejected me..... So I stay on the edge of friendships. Never getting close enough to be hurt. And it isn't lost on me that living that way is hurtful in and of itself.