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Erika Casupanan is a media personality, keynote speaker and host of the Happy to See Me podcast.
It’s common for people to see my purple hair and stop to ask, “Are you the girl from Survivor?”
They’re right. Most people know me as the first Canadian, the first Filipino and the fourth racialized woman to win the U.S. competition series (my victory was broadcast in December, 2021).
The physical, mental and emotional struggles that came with playing and filming the game were hard, but mostly fun. I dodged elimination at tribal councils, conquered challenges and, after a final pitch to the jury, won with a commanding lead. I was so proud to have achieved a childhood dream. But the real challenge would come months after I returned home from Fiji.
Nothing prepared me for being watched on television by millions of people. I had no control over the version of me that was broadcast internationally, in prime time. At moments, it felt like being in a carnival “funhouse” of mirrors, with many versions of myself reflected back at me. Sure, all of them were recognizable, but none were entirely me.
Over the 20-plus years that Survivor has been on the air, the show’s passionate fandom has developed a system for trying to predict how a player might perform based on the way their footage is edited. This “edgic” system – a portmanteau of “editing” and “logic” – scores each player’s visibility in a given episode, overlaying that information with patterns from past seasons to try to predict who will win.
I was, for the most part, invisible for the first half of my season, appearing minimally on screen, which led to many fans removing me from winner contention early on. While I was fortunate not to receive what fans call the “villain” edit, my “come-from-behind winner” edit still managed to confuse both me and the fandom. After watching each episode I’d wonder, why didn’t I show up much? Was I not good enough? Were the powers that be unhappy with me as the winner?
My win surprised many, and debates over whether it was rightfully earned persisted in online fan communities for months. In one poll, 80 per cent of fans voted that I didn’t deserve to win. As much as I tried to avoid it, the commentary was always prominent in my social media feeds.
I had concerns about the edit not because I wished for more screen time or to be the star of the show, but because of what resulted from it. Every day, for months, I received comments, tagged posts or direct messages from people telling me that I had only won because of a “woke” jury. I knew better than to take the cruel comments personally. But after months of being anonymously bullied, I was exhausted.
Erika Casupanan won the 41st season of the reality competition series Survivor.
The lack of recognition wasn’t new – I’ve been overlooked many times in my life. In fact, my pre-Survivor experience as an Asian woman navigating the workplace heavily influenced my gameplay. I had been told to be bold in order to earn my spot in the decision-making room at work, but I’d also face consequences for sharing an opinion that wasn’t the status quo. Most women can relate to this workplace Catch-22 – assert yourself, but not too much. I had learned to move through the world by striking the delicate balance between making an impact and flying under the radar, while never reaching the highest levels. With a degree in media studies, I’ve also reflected on the portrayals of Asian women I grew up seeing in pop culture. Many were characterized as passive or disposable, or alternatively as strict “dragon ladies.” Like many under-represented groups, I was up against a lot of unconscious bias. The mirrors around me had always been distorted.
So, I entered my Survivor experience thinking, “If this is how people see me, I’ll use this to my advantage!” I made myself seem less threatening and influenced the gameplay without having the loudest voice in the room. The petite, purple-haired person who appeared diminutive was in fact a formidable competitor.
Clearly, my approach didn’t earn screen time, at least not at first. While the show started featuring my footage more often as the season progressed, fans weren’t as familiar with me as they were with other players. Interestingly, I’m not the first female winner to face this problem – a contingent of the Survivor fandom have pointed out that female and BIPOC winners are usually subject to a pattern of under-editing. It’s possible that some undeserved criticism these winners received could have been avoided with a few more minutes of visibility.
One respite was the people who saw themselves in the TV version of me. A few months after the show aired, I received a message from a woman who, like me, was Filipino and unsatisfied with her career. After watching my season, she quit her job and pursued her real dream of becoming a writer. She thanked me for showing her that someone like her could win. My journey helped someone see themselves, and all of their potential, clearly. That is the greatest victory of this experience.
I will be forever grateful for my Survivor experience. It was a once-in-a-lifetime chance to make a dream come true. I made lifelong friends. I can access opportunities I wouldn’t have dared to dream of before. I’m rooting for the franchise. The positive will always outweigh the negative.
I survived more than a game. I survived my image being dissected by millions of people. After emerging from the house of mirrors, I see myself more clearly than ever before.
Marianne
Marianne Kushmaniuk for The Globe and Mail
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