Well, the season opened in a rollicking fashion as survivors scrambled to scoop up supplies and jump overboard arms loaded with booty, before Jeff poised to yell time’s up, gave the official word. He in the meanwhile kept busy yapping at the camera, explaining this year’s new challenge of the races. I smiled watching him dodge flying boxes and tossed squealing chickens. I don’t know how he avoided getting bonked on the head, but that’s another story.
Four tribes are divided by race, competing against each other on a remote island. One Hispanic paddling with his crew comments on the irony. His parents paddled from an island so their children would be free, and now their son was paddling back to an island again. Later, when constructing huts, one Black American stops to survey the work and comments, “That’s so ghetto!” This should be fun!
Many people take offense at this subtle form of racial profiling. I don’t. I sat fascinated by the spirit with which these team members bonded and went to work. Instead of feeling offended, the ethnicities were anxious to shine, to show the world what they were all about, perhaps to obliterate tired old stereotypes, inspire new admiration, and offer a glimpse at how at the core, we are all just people. Ultimately, one’s blood runs deeper than citizenship. But what is great about America is the blending of the two in the recognition of that core humanity. In America, you bring your unique dish to the table, but you also join with others in partaking of the whole feast.
I’m looking forward to this honest experiment to see America shine, from the inside out.
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