The Oprah Prize

by Rebecca F Reuter

"I want to be on the Oprah Winfrey show." That was my mantra ever since I first saw Oprah on TV as a teenager in mid-‘80s-Chicago. Although, I never really understood why I wanted to be on that show. A year or so after I decided this, I got an opportunity to be an audience member on a show about DARE (Drug Abuse Resistance Education), a program that challenges kids not to do drugs. It was filmed in the huge auditorium of one of Chicago’s largest high schools, Lane Tech. I was sitting in an aisle seat, secretly hoping that Oprah would walk towards me. Oprah fielded questions. She walked around the auditorium, and cameras followed her. They captured the hundreds of students in the audience when she walked right past me. I was speechless. Any question that I wanted to ask her vanished from my mind, and any chance to ask that question was quickly gone. Then Oprah bid farewell to everyone and the show was over. What was it that mesmerized me about her? She was an intelligent, courageous Black woman that was on her way to becoming one of the world’s most successful people. Somehow I sensed her power, and I wanted to be a part of it—to inspire and motivate others to succeed. That was why I wanted to be on the Oprah Winfrey Show. I wanted to be interviewed by Oprah, but how? And who would I be?

Recognition of my achievements was my desired end result throughout my quest to be a guest on the Oprah Winfrey show. In my young mind this honor was analogous to winning a prize like the Nobel Prize or the Pulitzer Prize. The Oprah Prize was the prize any person could achieve and I would be one of them. From the day I knew I wanted to be a marine biologist, the thought of being on the Oprah Show helped motivate me to persevere during tough times, and celebrate the good times.

Just in case the Oprah prize fell through, I also aspired to win the Jacques Cousteau prize. I was so sure about obtaining this prize that in my high school senior yearbook, I told my classmates to pay attention to their local PBS stations in the future because one day, I was going to be on a Jacques Cousteau documentary. One day, I would be a marine biologist/environmental activist/teacher, world renown of course, and I’d be invited to be on one of his shows. And as I started my career in Alaskan waters, I thought, Jacques has never made a documentary up here. But then that fateful day happened. I was driving to the lab, anxious to continue work on my Master’s thesis research (year three of my five-year program) and I heard on National Public Radio (NPR) that Jacques Cousteau had passed away. I continued to drive in a state of semi-shock. My car was on autopilot, taking me to a local used book store in Seattle’s University District. There, in the window, was my destiny: one of Jacques Cousteau’s coffee-table books—The Ocean World. A beautiful reminder of why I chose the career path I was on, that book helped me to continue on my journey to be a marine biologist. And if it didn’t, then maybe it will be a collector’s item one day. I cried that day, thinking that now I would never get the Jacques prize, the Jean-Michel prize wasn’t an option, it’s just not as cool-sounding. Now my second biggest role model was gone, but his spirit lived on in me.

A few years after Jacques died, I attained the Masters of Science in Marine Science prize, I mean degree. What an honor it was to be the first woman in my family to achieve this; no person in my family has ever achieved that level of education. My brother achieved an MD only a few years prior, but that didn’t count, it wasn’t an MS. "Now," I thought, "I am eligible for that Oprah prize." "Daughter of Immigrants, born and raised in the city of Chicago, went through the Chicago Public School System, and managed to achieve a graduate degree." I was now a role model for other people whose aspirations may take them places where no one else they know had gone. I had become a Latina scientist with the federal government, from the hood—Rebee from the block—no Rebecca please, I’m a professional now. Oprah would surely want to put me on her show now.

It has been almost 20 years, a Masters of Science degree, several trips up to Alaska, one divorce, and still no Oprah prize. It was not purely arrogance that lead me to think that I was worthy for an Oprah prize. I just wanted to share with everyone my success story. But how would have I been selected? Was I to be secretly nominated by a secret group of people? It was no secret that I wanted that prize. One of the first things I shared with many of my friends, old and new, is that I wanted to be on the Oprah Winfrey show. The responses I got were mixed. There was the bewildered look of "Who is Oprah?" and then there was the patronizing comment, "Sure Rebecca!" which comes with a certain look in the eyes, and a nod of the head (as they stare at me, thinking that I need to be institutionalized). But most people laughed as they realized I may be saying this in jest. Over the years, I have had a few supporters, but they must not have been part of the group of people that nominate Oprah prize winners.

But time went by and nothing. Well, maybe I wasn’t intriguing enough, or maybe I was too intriguing and no one would believe that I was once Rebee from the block. That was the arrogant side of me thinking. Was it because I wasn’t famous? Not celebrity status, and not anonymous enough?

Throughout the years, the focus of the Oprah show has changed. It became a show for Midwestern suburban housewives, and the topics I stumbled upon on my days off or when I was home sick didn’t fit with what I felt I could bring to the show. Stories with headlines like: "Kid from Chicago, daughter of immigrants, becomes a scientist"—another rags to riches type of story. Or "The journey of becoming a marine biologist in Alaska, tales from the Bering Sea"—an adventure story. Or "Woman overcomes fears, divorces husband and not only survives, but thrives"—a story about being true to oneself despite the emotional upheaval. Hey, wait a minute, maybe that’s it. Maybe I could get on the Oprah show and talk about my divorce. Those Midwestern suburban house wives would love that type of story. I became excited at the thought that this may be it, despite my entire academic and career achievements in my life, the one Oprah defining moment would be about how I separated from and divorced my husband.

I would talk about how that moment came in my life that I never thought could happen to me. I left my husband. A person who I loved, admired, and grew with for almost 10 years. We were friends, but we grew apart and the history we had had was not enough to sustain the type of relationship I felt we both deserved. There came that time in our relationship where I felt I needed to be free from the marriage, and despite the emotional stress and the extreme heartbreak, I felt the empowering feeling of freedom that helped me overcome the fear of change. What a great topic for the Oprah show, I could hear the questions now… "So Rebecca, when did you know you needed to leave your husband?" "Who was your support group?" And with a tear in my eye, I would respond and point towards the audience at my best girlfriends, my new fiancé, my mom, and all of the other wonderful people from my support group that were able to join me on the Oprah show (how many guests are we allowed to bring?).

I would sit there wondering why my story about the emotional upheavals in life was different than anyone elses. Although each day, during the most painful period of the separation, I felt would be a good day to be on the Oprah show to talk about it, to describe it…the elation in the morning after a three mile run, getting through an eight hour day at the job, then becoming immobilized by grief in the evening. Oprah would ask, "How did you get through it Rebecca?" I would pause, look down at my feet, choking back the tears, take a deep breath, then look straight at Oprah, then the audience, then the camera, and say "I allowed myself to be me, the me that was forgotten during graduate school and marriage, a me that I left in high school…" I would continue, "I started going out dancing and meeting people at clubs and other social gatherings, I began to dress sexy and I loved the attention, it fed my heart and empowered me to release the past and along with it, the pain, and to embrace the future." And on and on I would go as the audience would sit at the edge of their seats listening to me lecture on trusting your inner self, of being true to yourself, and being the person you have always dreamed of becoming. From being a Marine biologist, to being a mentor, to becoming a writer and perhaps a wife again, I have achieved more than the Oprah prize, I have achieved the Free To Be Me Prize. A prize whose worth is paid with currency of the soul.

Rebecca is a professional marine biologist. Oprah Winfrey has been one of her role models. When not being creative or analytical, Rebecca loves walks around Greenlake alone or with friends. She also enjoys cooking, spending time with her beau and cat.