Oprah Winfrey’s last Oprah show on May 25, 2011 got huge ratings. While not a follower of the show, like millions of others I have nothing but admiration for the woman for her spirit, accomplishments, and the positive impact that she has had on people in their personal and professional lives. That admiration went up a notch when she acknowledged her Mississippi roots on her show finale. What she said was “I am truly amazed that I, who started out in rural Mississippi in 1954 when the vision for a black girl was limited to being either a maid or a teacher in a segregated school, could end up here.”
Oprah went on to surmise that, at some level, her early experience led her to seek the acceptance and love that millions all over the world gave her.
The reason for the heightened admiration was because I remember a time, granted decades ago, when on one occasion I did not acknowledge my home state, Mississippi. That happened when, one too many times, the reaction to the “where are you from” question was pity and surprise as soon as I said ‘Mississippi’. It was 1968, New York City. In response to the “where you come from” question, I answered “Norway.” That really got a stunned reaction. It was great, way better than pity! It also made me think about why I would tell such an obvious lie.
I was not only born in rural, pre-civil rights Mississippi. I grew up there, completed college there at a Historically Black College – Alcorn State University. During early childhood there wasn’t much exposure to television (hard without electricity), so imagery of an outside world came primarily through books. I didn’t realize that I was considered poor until much, much later. We had food, clothing, shelter, and an extended community whose attention and caring went beyond what we children thought was necessary.
Did I understand that things were scary-dangerous outside the geographical boundaries of our extended community? You bet! We got the message, loud and clear. But, inside those boundaries, I felt little limitation or fear. Actually, the greatest fear was a whupping, but I figured out how to avoid that, at least most of the time.
Much later, I began to ruminate upon the impact of forming a concept of who I am and what I could be without having imagery that suggested that I was “less than,” and synthesize my observations with other lessons learned. A job that required world-wide travel helped me realize that just about everything, including poverty, is relative. It also opened my eyes to uncomfortable truths, such as there is no such thing as perfection – in people or places, no one person knows all there is to know about anything, and I had to be part of the change I wanted.
We are all impacted by where we come from. Our early visions for the possibilities of our adult selves are formed, and limited, by the scope of our experiences, real and virtual. What those around us expect of us, and how they communicate that expectation to us, also impact the scope of our vision. When we see others whose circumstances seem similar to our own, it really makes a difference in our vision’s ceiling. And, perhaps most importantly, life’s vision changes over time, as knowledge and understanding increase.
Some of my contemporaries (Mississippians) whom I thought were poor compared to my family (less access to clothes, shelter, etc.) are now successful doctors, lawyers, politicians, entrepreneurs, and educators throughout the U.S., including in Mississippi. Others have fallen by the wayside, as have people from other geographic areas and socio-economic conditions in this country. Sociologists still have a field day trying to decipher what drives this reality.
Is this an easy process? Absolutely not, at least from my perspective. Is heartache involved? Of course. After all, this is about being alive.
Each of us has the capacity to learn from our past. Those lessons, good and bad, provide education and motivation, as they did for Oprah. It has been suggested that we should all become archaeologists of Self in order to excavate the authentic person inside.
What I want to do evolves with time, with living. From my point of view, the path that I choose is my call. What I do with my life depends on what I want to achieve, not what someone else may want to keep out of my reach. Between the vision I have for my life and its attainment lies opportunities for living – working to right wrongs, to make a difference, to innovate, to bring about change.
I am humbled when I remember the shoulders that provided me with an opportunity for a broader life vision, and whatever else is needed, even today, to keep me getting up and trying again.
So, when someone who has Oprah’s recognition factor makes a point of letting us know where she comes from (geographically, economically, and socially), it sends a clear signal to all who listen that anything is possible.
Thank you Oprah, for sharing. Perhaps we all can learn lessons from you about being authentic, and a never-say-never approach to living.
