I'm going to talk to you tonight about coming out of the closet, and not in the traditional sense, not just the gay closet. I think we all have closets. Your closet may be telling someone you love her for the first time, or telling someone that you're pregnant, or telling someone you have cancer, or any of the other hard conversations we have throughout our lives. All a closet is is a hard conversation, and although our topics may vary tremendously, the experience of being in and coming out of the closet is universal. It is scary, and we hate it, and it needs to be done.
Govorila bom o stopanju iz omare, ne v tradicionalnem smislu, ne le o razkrivanju istospolne usmerjenosti. Vsi imamo omare, ki jih nočemo odpreti. Morda se bojite osebi povedati, da jo ljubite, povedati, da ste noseči, da imate raka ali začeti kak drug težak pogovor, ki je potreben v življenju. Omara je samo težak pogovor in čeprav se teme lahko močno razlikujejo, je izkušnja biti v omari in stopiti iz nje univerzalna. Strašljiva je, sovražimo jo in moramo jo napraviti.
Several years ago, I was working at the South Side Walnut Cafe, a local diner in town, and during my time there I would go through phases of militant lesbian intensity: not shaving my armpits, quoting Ani DiFranco lyrics as gospel. And depending on the bagginess of my cargo shorts and how recently I had shaved my head, the question would often be sprung on me, usually by a little kid:
Pred leti sem delala v lokalni restavraciji South Side Walnut Cafe in takrat sem imela faze militantne lezbične intenzivnosti: nisem si brila pazduh, Ani DiFranco sem citirala kot svete besede. Odvisno od tega, kako široke hlače sem nosila in kdaj sem si nazadnje obrila glavo, so me pogosto vprašali, ponavadi je bil to kak majhen otrok:
"Um, are you a boy or are you a girl?"
"Hm, si fant ali punca?"
And there would be an awkward silence at the table. I'd clench my jaw a little tighter, hold my coffee pot with a little more vengeance. The dad would awkwardly shuffle his newspaper and the mom would shoot a chilling stare at her kid. But I would say nothing, and I would seethe inside. And it got to the point where every time I walked up to a table that had a kid anywhere between three and 10 years old, I was ready to fight. (Laughter) And that is a terrible feeling. So I promised myself, the next time, I would say something. I would have that hard conversation.
Potem je pri mizi nastala neprijetna tišina. Še malo bolj sem stisnila čeljust, še malo bolj maščevalno sem prijela vrč za kavo. Oče je mučno listal časopis in mati je otroku poslala leden pogled. Jaz pa sem bila tiho, čeprav je v meni vrelo. Zato sem vedno, ko sem šla k mizi, kjer je sedel otrok, star od tri do deset let, odhajala pripravljena na boj. (smeh) To je grozen občutek. Obljubila sem si, da bom naslednjič odgovorila. Govorila bom o tej težki stvari.
So within a matter of weeks, it happens again.
Čez nekaj tednov se je spet zgodilo.
"Are you a boy or are you a girl?"
"Si fant ali punca?"
Familiar silence, but this time I'm ready, and I am about to go all Women's Studies 101 on this table. (Laughter) I've got my Betty Friedan quotes. I've got my Gloria Steinem quotes. I've even got this little bit from "Vagina Monologues" I'm going to do. So I take a deep breath and I look down and staring back at me is a four-year-old girl in a pink dress, not a challenge to a feminist duel, just a kid with a question: "Are you a boy or are you a girl?"
Znana tišina, a tokrat sem pripravljena, da ljudem pri mizi odpredavam osnove ženskih študij. Pripravljene imam citate Betty Friedan, citate Glorie Steinem. Še celo izsek iz Monologov vagine imam. Globoko vdihnem in pogledam navzdol, od koder vame strmi štiriletna deklica v roza oblekici, ne pa izzivalec na feministični dvoboj, samo otrok z vprašanjem: "Si fant ali punca?"
So I take another deep breath, squat down to next to her, and say, "Hey, I know it's kind of confusing. My hair is short like a boy's, and I wear boy's clothes, but I'm a girl, and you know how sometimes you like to wear a pink dress, and sometimes you like to wear your comfy jammies? Well, I'm more of a comfy jammies kind of girl."
Še enkrat globoko vdihnem, počepnem k njej in rečem: "Veš, malo zmedeno je vse skupaj. Imam kratke lase kot fant in nosim fantovske obleke, ampak sem punca, kot ti: včasih rada nosiš roza oblekico, včasih pa udobno pižamo. No, meni so bolj všeč udobne pižame."
And this kid looks me dead in the eye, without missing a beat, and says, "My favorite pajamas are purple with fish. Can I get a pancake, please?" (Laughter) And that was it. Just, "Oh, okay. You're a girl. How about that pancake?"
Otrok me pogleda naravnost v oči, in brez oklevanja reče: "Moja najljubša pižama je vijolična z ribami. Lahko dobim palačinko, prosim?" (smeh) In to je bilo to. Samo: "V redu, punca si. Kje je tista palačinka?"
It was the easiest hard conversation I have ever had. And why? Because Pancake Girl and I, we were both real with each other.
To je bil najlažji težak pogovor, kar sem jih kdajkoli imela. In zakaj? Ker sva bili punčka s palačinkami in jaz iskreni druga z drugo.
So like many of us, I've lived in a few closets in my life, and yeah, most often, my walls happened to be rainbow. But inside, in the dark, you can't tell what color the walls are. You just know what it feels like to live in a closet. So really, my closet is no different than yours or yours or yours. Sure, I'll give you 100 reasons why coming out of my closet was harder than coming out of yours, but here's the thing: Hard is not relative. Hard is hard. Who can tell me that explaining to someone you've just declared bankruptcy is harder than telling someone you just cheated on them? Who can tell me that his coming out story is harder than telling your five-year-old you're getting a divorce? There is no harder, there is just hard. We need to stop ranking our hard against everyone else's hard to make us feel better or worse about our closets and just commiserate on the fact that we all have hard. At some point in our lives, we all live in closets, and they may feel safe, or at least safer than what lies on the other side of that door. But I am here to tell you, no matter what your walls are made of, a closet is no place for a person to live.
Kot mnogi med nami sem živela v nekaj omarah in ja, najpogosteje za mavričnimi zidovi. A v temi ne vidite, kakšne barve so zidovi. Samo veste, kako je živeti v omari. V resnici moja ni drugačna od vaše ali vaše ali vaše. Seveda vam bom naštela sto razlogov, zakaj je bil moj izstop iz omare težji od vašega, a nekaj je res: "težko" ni relativen pojem. Težko je težko. Kdo lahko dokaže, da je priznati, da ste bankrotirali, težje kakor priznati nekomu, da ste ga prevarali? Kdo lahko trdi, da je njegovo razkritje težje, kot je povedati petletnemu otroku, da se ločujete? Ni "težjega", je samo "težko". Prenehati moramo meriti svoj "težko" s tistim nekoga drugega, da bi se bolje ali slabše počutili o svojih omarah ter enostavno sprejeti, da je vsem težko. Del življenja vsi preživimo v omarah in morda se to zdi varno ali vsaj varneje kot tisto, ker je na drugi strani. A želim vam povedati, da ne glede na to, iz česa so vaši zidovi, omara ni kraj, kjer se da živeti.
Thanks. (Applause)
Hvala. (aplavz)
So imagine yourself 20 years ago. Me, I had a ponytail, a strapless dress, and high-heeled shoes. I was not the militant lesbian ready to fight any four-year-old that walked into the cafe. I was frozen by fear, curled up in the corner of my pitch-black closet clutching my gay grenade, and moving one muscle is the scariest thing I have ever done. My family, my friends, complete strangers -- I had spent my entire life trying to not disappoint these people, and now I was turning the world upside down on purpose. I was burning the pages of the script we had all followed for so long, but if you do not throw that grenade, it will kill you.
Predstavljajte si sebe pred 20 leti. Jaz sem imela konjski rep, obleko brez naramnic in visoke pete. Nisem bila militantna lezbijka, pripravljena na boj z mimoidočimi štiriletniki. Paralizirana sem bila od strahu, stisnjena v kot s svojo temno skrivnostjo, oklepala sem se svoje gejevske granate in najtežje, kar sem kdaj storila, je bilo premakniti eno samo mišico. Družina, prijatelji, popolni tujci ... vse življenje sem se trudila, da jih ne bi razočarala, zdaj pa sem namenoma obračala svet na glavo. Zažgala sem strani scenarija, ki smo mu vsi tako dolgo sledili, a če ne odvržete granate, bo ubila vas.
One of my most memorable grenade tosses was at my sister's wedding. (Laughter) It was the first time that many in attendance knew I was gay, so in doing my maid of honor duties, in my black dress and heels, I walked around to tables and finally landed on a table of my parents' friends, folks that had known me for years. And after a little small talk, one of the women shouted out, "I love Nathan Lane!" And the battle of gay relatability had begun.
Eden najbolj nepozabnih metov je bil na sestrini poroki. (smeh) Bilo je prvič, da je večina prisotnih vedela, da sem homoseksualka, in ko sem opravljala dolžnosti družice, v črni obleki in visokih petah, sem se sprehajala med mizami in končala pri mizi prijateljev svojih staršev, ki so me že leta poznali. Po kratkem klepetu je ena od žensk zavpila: "Ljubim Nathana Lanea!" In začela se je bitka gejevskih asociacij.
"Ash, have you ever been to the Castro?"
"Ash, si že bila v Castru?"
"Well, yeah, actually, we have friends in San Francisco."
"ja, v bistvu imamo prijatelje v San Franciscu."
"Well, we've never been there but we've heard it's fabulous."
"Nikoli nismo bili tam, a pravijo, da je krasno."
"Ash, do you know my hairdresser Antonio? He's really good and he has never talked about a girlfriend."
"Ash, poznaš mojega frizerja Antonia? Super je in nikoli ne govori o puncah."
"Ash, what's your favorite TV show? Our favorite TV show? Favorite: Will & Grace. And you know who we love? Jack. Jack is our favorite."
"Ash, katera je tvoja naljubša TV serija? Najina? Najljubša: Will & Grace. In veš, kdo nama je všeč? Jack. Jack je najin najljubši."
And then one woman, stumped but wanting so desperately to show her support, to let me know she was on my side, she finally blurted out, "Well, sometimes my husband wears pink shirts." (Laughter)
Neka ženska, zbegana, a v želji izkazati podporo, mi povedati, da je na moji strani, je nazadnje izpustila tole: "No, včasih moj mož nosi roza srajce." (smeh)
And I had a choice in that moment, as all grenade throwers do. I could go back to my girlfriend and my gay-loving table and mock their responses, chastise their unworldliness and their inability to jump through the politically correct gay hoops I had brought with me, or I could empathize with them and realize that that was maybe one of the hardest things they had ever done, that starting and having that conversation was them coming out of their closets. Sure, it would have been easy to point out where they felt short. It's a lot harder to meet them where they are and acknowledge the fact that they were trying. And what else can you ask someone to do but try? If you're going to be real with someone, you gotta be ready for real in return.
Takrat sem imela izbiro, kot vsak, preden vrže granato. Lahko bi se vrnila k svoji punci in gejem naklonjeni mizi ter se norčevala iz njihovih reakcij, kritizirala njihovo naivnost in nesposobnost preseči politično korektne gejevske ovire, ki sem jih prinesla s seboj, lahko pa bi z njimi sočustvovala in spoznala, da je bila to zanje morda ena najtežjih stvari, da je to, da so se začeli pogovarjati, pomenilo, da so stopili iz svojih omar. Seveda bi bilo lahko pokazati, kje niso uspeli. Težje jim je stopiti naproti in sprejeti dejstvo, da so poskušali. In kaj več kot to lahko zahtevamo? Če hočete biti z nekom iskreni, morate biti pripravljeni, da boste iskrenost dobili nazaj.
So hard conversations are still not my strong suit. Ask anybody I have ever dated. But I'm getting better, and I follow what I like to call the three Pancake Girl principles. Now, please view this through gay-colored lenses, but know what it takes to come out of any closet is essentially the same.
Težki pogovori mi še vedno ne gredo od rok. Vprašajte vse moje bivše. A postajam boljša in sledim trem načelom punčke s palačinkami. Tole glejte skozi gej očala, a vedite, da je razkritje česarkoli v bistvu enako.
Number one: Be authentic. Take the armor off. Be yourself. That kid in the cafe had no armor, but I was ready for battle. If you want someone to be real with you, they need to know that you bleed too.
Prvič: bodite pristni. Odvrzite oklep. Bodite to, kar ste. Otrok v restavraciji ni imel oklepa, jaz pa sem bila pripravljena na boj. Če hočete, da bodo iskreni z vami, morajo vedeti, da ste tudi vi krvavi pod kožo.
Number two: Be direct. Just say it. Rip the Band-Aid off. If you know you are gay, just say it. If you tell your parents you might be gay, they will hold out hope that this will change. Do not give them that sense of false hope. (Laughter)
Drugič: bodite neposredni. Povejte, kakor je. Odtrgajte obliž. Če ste gej, to kar povejte. Če poveste staršem, da ste morda gej, bodo upali, da se bo to spremenilo. Ne vlivajte jim lažnega upanja. (smeh)
And number three, and most important -- (Laughter) Be unapologetic. You are speaking your truth. Never apologize for that. And some folks may have gotten hurt along the way, so sure, apologize for what you've done, but never apologize for who you are. And yeah, some folks may be disappointed, but that is on them, not on you. Those are their expectations of who you are, not yours. That is their story, not yours. The only story that matters is the one that you want to write. So the next time you find yourself in a pitch-black closet clutching your grenade, know we have all been there before. And you may feel so very alone, but you are not. And we know it's hard but we need you out here, no matter what your walls are made of, because I guarantee you there are others peering through the keyholes of their closets looking for the next brave soul to bust a door open, so be that person and show the world that we are bigger than our closets and that a closet is no place for a person to truly live.
In tretjič, kar je najpomembneje: (smeh) Ne opravičujte se. Govorite svojo resnico. Nikoli se ne opravičujte za to. Morda ste s tem koga prizadeli, seveda se opravičite za to, kar ste storili, ampak ne opravičujte se za to, kar ste. Ja, nekateri bodo razočarani, ampak to je njihova stvar, ne vaša. To so njihova pričakovanja o tem, kar ste, ne vaša. To je njihova zgodba, ne vaša. Edina zgodba, ki je pomembna, je tista, ki jo hočete napisati vi. Ko se boste naslednjič znašli v temni omari, oklepajoč se svoje granate, vedite, da smo vsi bili tam. Morda se boste počutili tako same, ampak niste. Vemo, da je težko, a stopiti moramo ven, ne glede na to, iz česa so naši zidovi, ker vam zagotavljam, da drugi kukajo skozi ključavnice svojih omar in čakajo, da bo naslednja pogumna duša na stežaj odprla vrata. Bodite ta duša in pokažite svetu, da smo večji od svojih omar in da v njih nihče ne more zares živeti.
Thank you, Boulder. Enjoy your night. (Applause)
Hvala vam, Boulder. Uživajte v večeru. (aplavz)