Perhaps the nerdiest thing about me (and I say that as a point of pride) is how much I love to play the show “Jeopardy!”.
I use the word “play” intentionally. When I watch at home, I’m not just passively enjoying the entertainment from the comfort of my couch; I’m screaming out answers, I’m cheering like a stage mom for power players, I’m dancing on their graves when a dark horse sneaks up for a come-from-behind victory. In my mind, I’m shoulder to shoulder with these people, cranking through clues and betting big in Final Jeopardy!.
But of course, that’s only in my mind. In reality, I’m a Couch Warrior, totally obsessed but too afraid of bombing to actually apply to the show. Instead, I hide out at home, while the brave, real-life brainiacs put themselves out there and compete for cash.
The truth is, I’ve never thought “Jeopardy!” was for “people like me,” which is to say, a thirty-something woman from Tulsa who came up through public school and now works in brand strategy. “Jeopardy!” is for geniuses! Mathematicians! The MIT nuclear physics professor working on a PhD who plans to use his winnings to finance—you guessed it—yet another PhD. In my mind, “Jeopardy!” is for Ivy Leaguers, the coastal elite, and the professionally smart.
… Right?
Color me surprised to learn that Tulsa has been churning out regular human “Jeopardy!” champions for years. The show’s J! Archives show 32 past players from Tulsa, where the city’s pub trivia and quiz bowl subcultures offer a “Jeopardy!” pipeline of sorts. Among Tulsa’s private school fundraiser circles, trivia nights are ubiquitous, and it’s common to find the city’s former “Jeopardy!” contestants playing on a team, heckling question-writers, and blasting buzzers in the name of a good cause.
But dig into the J! Data and you’ll see that some of Tulsa’s recent players have one other thing in common. In 2024, every contestant representing Tulsa on “Jeopardy!” except one was a woman who is or has been a teacher.