Well, this is a really extraordinary honor for me. I spend most of my time in jails, in prisons, on death row. I spend most of my time in very low-income communities, in the projects and places where there's a great deal of hopelessness. And being here at TED and seeing the stimulation, hearing it, has been very, very energizing to me. And one of the things that's emerged in my short time here is that TED has an identity. And you can actually say things here that have impacts around the world. And sometimes when it comes through TED, it has meaning and power that it doesn't have when it doesn't.
Ovo mi je zaista iznimna čast. Većinu svojeg vremena provodim u zatvorima, s osuđenima na smrt. Većinu vremena provodim u vrlo siromašnim zajednicama u socijalnom smještaju i mjestima gdje vlada veliko beznađe. Boravak ovdje na TED-u i sva stimulacija koju vidim i čujem dala mi je veliku energiju. Tijekom mog kratkog boravka ovdje pokazalo se da TED ima identitet. Ovdje zaista možete reći stvari koje će imati utjecaj u cijelome svijetu. Ponekad stvari koje dolaze kroz TED imaju drugačije značenje i moć nego kad to nije slučaj.
And I mention that because I think identity is really important. And we've had some fantastic presentations. And I think what we've learned is that, if you're a teacher, your words can be meaningful, but if you're a compassionate teacher, they can be especially meaningful. If you're a doctor, you can do some good things, but if you're a caring doctor, you can do some other things. So I want to talk about the power of identity. And I didn't learn about this actually practicing law and doing the work that I do. I actually learned about this from my grandmother.
To govorim jer mislim da je identitet vrlo bitan. Bilo je fantastičnih prezentacija. Mislim da sam naučio da ako si učitelj, tvoje riječi mogu biti značajne, ali ako si suosjećajan učitelj, onda one mogu biti naročito značajne. Ako si liječnik, možeš raditi dobre stvari, ali ako si brižan liječnik, možeš raditi i druge stvari. Zato vam želim govoriti o moći identiteta. Zapravo ništa o tome nisam naučio baveći se pravom i svojim poslom. O tome me naučila moja baka.
I grew up in a house that was the traditional African American home that was dominated by a matriarch, and that matriarch was my grandmother. She was tough, she was strong, she was powerful. She was the end of every argument in our family.
Odrastao sam u kući koja je bila tradicionalan afroamerički dom kojim je dominirao matrijarh, a to je bila moja baka. Bila je stroga, snažna, bila je moćna. Završavala je sve svađe u našoj obitelji.
(Laughter)
Mnoge je svađe u našoj obitelji i započinjala.
She was the beginning of a lot of arguments in our family.
Bila je kći pravih robova.
(Laughter)
She was the daughter of people who were actually enslaved. Her parents were born in slavery in Virginia in the 1840s. She was born in the 1880s, and the experience of slavery very much shaped the way she saw the world.
Njeni su roditelji rođeni u ropstvu u Virginiji 1840-ih godina. Ona je rođena 1880-ih i iskustvo ropstva znatno je utjecalo na njezino viđenje svijeta. Moja je baka bila stroga, ali bila je i nježna.
And my grandmother was tough, but she was also loving. When I would see her as a little boy, she'd come up to me and give me these hugs. And she'd squeeze me so tight I could barely breathe, and then she'd let me go. And an hour or two later, if I saw her, she'd come over to me and say, "Bryan, do you still feel me hugging you?" If I said, "No," she'd assault me again, and if I said, "Yes," she'd leave me alone. And she just had this quality that you always wanted to be near her. And the only challenge was that she had 10 children. My mom was the youngest of her 10 kids. And sometimes when I would go and spend time with her, it would be difficult to get her time and attention. My cousins would be running around everywhere.
Kad bih bio kod nje kao dječak, dolazila bi do mene i zagrlila me. Stisnula bi me tako jako da sam jedva disao i onda bi me pustila. Sat-dva kasnije, ako sam je vidio, došla bi do mene i rekla: "Bryane, osjećaš li još kako te grlim?" Ako bih rekao ne, opet bi me napala, a ako bih rekao da, ostavila bi me na miru. Imala je tu neku osobinu da ste uvijek htjeli biti u njenoj blizini. Jedini je problem bio taj što je imala desetero djece. Moja je majka bila najmlađe dijete. Zato je ponekad kad bih želio provesti vrijeme s njom bilo teško dobiti njeno vrijeme i pažnju. Moji bi bratići i sestrične trčali posvuda uokolo.
And I remember, when I was about eight or nine years old, waking up one morning, going into the living room, and all of my cousins were running around. And my grandmother was sitting across the room, staring at me. And at first, I thought we were playing a game. And I would look at her, and I'd smile, but she was very serious. And after about 15 or 20 minutes of this, she got up and she came across the room, and she took me by the hand, and she said, "Come on, Bryan. You and I are going to have a talk." And I remember this just like it happened yesterday. I never will forget it.
Sjećam se, kad sam imao osam ili devet godina, kako sam se jednog jutra probudio, otišao u dnevni boravak i svi su moji bratići i sestrične trčali uokolo. Moja je baka sjedila na drugom kraju sobe i gledala me. Isprva sam mislio da igraju neku igru. Pogledao sam je i nasmiješio se, ali ona je bila vrlo ozbiljna. Nakon 15-20 minuta ustala je, došla s drugog kraja sobe, primila me za ruku i rekla: "Hajde, Bryane. Idemo porazgovarati nas dvoje." Sjećam se toga kao da je bilo jučer. Nikad to neću zaboraviti.
She took me out back and said, "Bryan, I'm going to tell you something, but you don't tell anybody what I tell you." I said, "OK, Mama." She said, "Now, you make sure you don't do that." I said, "Sure." Then she sat me down and she looked at me, and she said, "I want you to know I've been watching you." And she said, "I think you're special." She said, "I think you can do anything you want to do." I will never forget it.
Odvela me van i rekla: "Bryane, nešto ću ti reći, ali nemoj nikome reći što sam ti rekla." Rekao sam: "Dobro, bako." Rekla je: "Pazi da to ne učiniš." Ja sam rekao: "Naravno." Zatim me posjela, pogledala me i rekla: "Hoću da znaš da sam te promatrala." Rekla je: "Mislim da si poseban. Mislim da možeš učiniti što god poželiš." Nikad to neću zaboraviti.
And then she said, "I just need you to promise me three things, Bryan." I said, "OK, Mama." She said, "The first thing I want you to promise me is that you'll always love your mom." She said, "That's my baby girl, and you have to promise me now you'll always take care of her." Well, I adored my mom, so I said, "Yes, Mama. I'll do that." Then she said, "The second thing I want you to promise me is that you'll always do the right thing, even when the right thing is the hard thing." And I thought about it, and I said, "Yes, Mama. I'll do that." Then finally, she said, "The third thing I want you to promise me is that you'll never drink alcohol."
Rekla je: "Samo mi moraš obećati tri stvari, Bryane." Rekao sam: "Dobro, bako." Rekla je: "Prvo želim da mi obećaš da ćeš uvijek voljeti svoju mamu." Rekla je: "Ona je moja djevojčica i moraš obećati da ćeš se uvijek brinuti za nju." Ja sam obožavao svoju mamu pa sam rekao: "Hoću, bako." Zatim je rekla: "Zatim želim da mi obećaš da ćeš uvijek učiniti ono što je ispravno, čak i ako to bude teško." Razmislio sam i rekao: "Hoću, bako." Na kraju je rekla: "Na kraju želim da mi obećaš da nikad nećeš piti alkohol."
(Laughter)
(Smijeh)
Well, I was nine years old, so I said, "Yes, Mama. I'll do that."
Imao sam devet godina pa sam rekao: "Dobro, bako."
I grew up in the country in the rural South, and I have a brother a year older than me and a sister a year younger. When I was about 14 or 15, one day, my brother came home and he had this six-pack of beer; I don't know where he got it. He grabbed me and my sister, and we went out in the woods, and we were just out there doing the stuff we crazily did, and he had a sip of this beer and gave some to my sister and she had some, and they offered it to me. I said, "No, that's OK. Y'all go ahead. I'm not going to have any." My brother said, "Come on. We're doing this today; you always do what we do. I had some, your sister had some. Have some beer." I said, "No, I don't feel right about that. Y'all go ahead." And then my brother stared at me and said, "What's wrong with you? Have some beer." Then he looked at me real hard and said, "Oh, I hope you're not still hung up on that conversation Mama had with you."
Odrastao sam na selu na jugu SAD-a i imam godinu dana starijeg brata i godinu dana mlađu sestru. Kad sam imao 14 ili 15 godina, jednog je dana moj brat došao kući i donio paket od 6 piva -- ne znam odakle mu -- uhvatio je mene i sestru i otišli smo u šumu. Ondje smo radili gluposti, kao i obično. On je popio malo piva i dao sestri pa je i ona popila i onda su ponudili i meni. Rekao sam: "Ne, ne. Ne treba. Samo vi dajte. Ja neću piti pivo." Moj brat je rekao: "Ma daj, to radimo danas. Uvijek radiš što i mi. I ja i sestra smo popili. Popij malo piva." Rekao sam: "Ne, ja ne bih. Vi samo dajte." Zatim je brat počeo zuriti u mene. Rekao je: "Što je s tobom? Popij malo piva." Zatim me stvarno ozbiljno pogledao i rekao: "Ne držiš se valjda još uvijek onog razgovora s bakom?" (Smijeh)
(Laughter)
Rekao sam: "Ma o čemu ti to?"
I said, "What are you talking about?" He said, "Oh, Mama tells all the grandkids that they're special."
Rekao je: "Ma, baka svim unucima kaže da su posebni." (Smijeh)
(Laughter)
Bio sam shrvan.
I was devastated.
(Smijeh)
(Laughter)
Priznat ću vam nešto.
And I'm going to admit something to you. I'm going to tell you something I probably shouldn't. I know this might be broadcast broadly. But I'm 52 years old, and I'm going to admit to you that I've never had a drop of alcohol.
Reći ću vam nešto što vjerojatno ne bih trebao. Znam da bi se ovo moglo svugdje prikazivati. Ali imam 52 godine i priznat ću vam da nikad nisam popio ni kapi alkohola. (Pljesak)
(Applause)
Ne kažem to jer mislim da je to vrlina.
I don't say that because I think that's virtuous; I say that because there is power in identity. When we create the right kind of identity, we can say things to the world around us that they don't actually believe make sense. We can get them to do things that they don't think they can do. When I thought about my grandmother, of course she would think all her grandkids were special. My grandfather was in prison during prohibition. My male uncles died of alcohol-related diseases. And these were the things she thought we needed to commit to.
Kažem to jer mislim da je u identitetu moć. Kad stvorimo pravu vrstu identiteta, možemo ljudima oko nas govoriti stvari za koje zapravo ne vjeruju da imaju smisla. Možemo postići da čine stvari za koje ne misle da mogu učiniti. Kad razmišljam o svojoj baki, naravno da je mislila da je sva njena unučad posebna. Moj je djed bio u zatvoru tijekom prohibicije. Moji su ujaci i stričevi umrli od bolesti povezanih s alkoholom. Ona je mislila da na te stvari trebamo obratiti pozornost.
Well, I've been trying to say something about our criminal justice system. This country is very different today than it was 40 years ago. In 1972, there were 300,000 people in jails and prisons. Today, there are 2.3 million. The United States now has the highest rate of incarceration in the world. We have seven million people on probation and parole. And mass incarceration, in my judgment, has fundamentally changed our world. In poor communities, in communities of color, there is this despair, there is this hopelessness that is being shaped by these outcomes. One out of three Black men between the ages of 18 and 30 is in jail, in prison, on probation or parole. In urban communities across this country -- Los Angeles, Philadelphia, Baltimore, Washington -- 50 to 60 percent of all young men of color are in jail or prison or on probation or parole.
Pokušavam reći nešto o našem kaznenopravnom sustavu. Danas je ova zemlja drugačija nego prije 40 godina. 1972. godine bilo je 300.000 ljudi u kaznionicama i zatvorima. Danas ih je 2,3 milijuna. SAD ima najveći postotak populacije u zatvoru na svijetu. Imamo 7 milijuna ljudi na uvjetnoj slobodi. Masovno zatvaranje, po mojem mišljenju, temeljito je promijenilo svijet. U siromašnim zajednicama obojenih rasa vlada očaj, vlada beznađe, koje uzrokuju te činjenice. Jedan od trojice crnaca u dobi između 18 i 30 godina u kaznionici je, zatvoru ili je uvjetno pušten. U gradskim zajednicama u cijeloj zemlji -- u Los Angelesu, Philadelphiji, Baltimoreu, Washingtonu -- 50 do 60 posto mladih crnaca u kaznionici su ili zatvoru ili su uvjetno pušteni. Naš sustav ne oblikuju
Our system isn't just being shaped in these ways that seem to be distorting around race, they're also distorted by poverty. We have a system of justice in this country that treats you much better if you're rich and guilty than if you're poor and innocent. Wealth, not culpability, shapes outcomes. And yet, we seem to be very comfortable. The politics of fear and anger have made us believe that these are problems that are not our problems. We've been disconnected.
samo ove nepravilnosti povezane s rasom, već i one povezane sa siromaštvom. U ovoj zemlji imamo pravni sustav koji se prema vama odnosi mnogo bolje ako ste bogati i krivi nego ako ste siromašni i nevini. Bogatstvo, a ne krivnja, utječe na rezultate. A ipak se čini da nemamo ništa protiv. Politika straha i gnjeva uvjerila nas je da to nisu naši problemi. Izgubili smo povezanost.
It's interesting to me. We're looking at some very interesting developments in our work. My state of Alabama, like a number of states, actually permanently disenfranchises you if you have a criminal conviction. Right now in Alabama, 34 percent of the Black male population has permanently lost the right to vote. We're actually projecting that in another 10 years, the level of disenfranchisement will be as high as it's been since prior to the passage of the Voting Rights Act. And there is this stunning silence.
To mi je zanimljivo. U mojem poslu dolazi do zanimljivih promjena. Moja država, Alabama, kao i brojne druge, trajno oduzima pravo glasanja ako ste osuđeni za kazneno djelo. Trenutno u Alabami ima 34% muške crnačke populacije koji su trajno izgubili pravo glasanja. Predviđamo da će u idućih 10 godina postotak populacije bez prava glasanja dostići razinu kao prije nego je izglasan zakon o pravu glasanja. A svi ipak šute.
I represent children. A lot of my clients are very young. The United States is the only country in the world where we sentence 13-year-old children to die in prison. We have life imprisonment without parole for kids in this country. And we're actually doing some litigation. The only country in the world.
Zastupam i djecu. Mnogi su moji klijenti vrlo mladi. SAD je jedina zemlja na svijetu gdje se 13-godišnja djeca osuđuju na smrt u zatvoru. Djeca u ovoj zemlji mogu dobiti doživotni zatvor bez mogućnosti pomilovanja. U tijeku je nekoliko takvih parnica. Jedina takva zemlja na svijetu.
I represent people on death row. It's interesting, this question of the death penalty. In many ways, we've been taught to think that the real question is: Do people deserve to die for the crimes they've committed? And that's a very sensible question. But there's another way of thinking about where we are in our identity. The other way of thinking about it is not: Do people deserve to die for the crimes they commit?, but: Do we deserve to kill? I mean, it's fascinating.
Zastupam i ljude osuđene na smrt. Zanimljivo je to pitanje smrtne kazne. Velikim smo dijelom naučeni misliti da je pravo pitanje zaslužuju li ljudi umrijeti zbog zločina koje su počinili? I to je sasvim razumno pitanje. No, postoji i drugi način razmišljanja o našem identitetu. Taj drugi način nije zaslužuju li ljudi umrijeti zbog zločina koje su počinili, već zalužujemo li mi ubiti? To je fascinantno.
Death penalty in America is defined by error. For every nine people who have been executed, we've actually identified one innocent person who's been exonerated and released from death row. A kind of astonishing error rate -- one out of nine people, innocent. I mean, it's fascinating. In aviation, we would never let people fly on airplanes if, for every nine planes that took off, one would crash.
Smrtna kazna u SAD-u definira se pogreškom. Na svakih devet smaknutih ljudi, identificirana je jedna nevina osoba koja je puštena i oslobođena smrtne kazne. Zapanjujuć postotak pogreške -- jedna od devet osoba je nevina. Zaista je fascinantno. Nikad ne bismo dopustili ljudima da lete avionom kad bi se za svakih devet aviona koji polete jedan srušio.
(Laughter)
Ali nekako se uspijevamo izolirati od ovog problema.
But somehow, we can insulate ourselves from this problem. It's not our problem. It's not our burden. It's not our struggle.
To nije naš problem. To nije naš teret. To nije naša borba.
I talk a lot about these issues. I talk about race and this question of whether we deserve to kill. And it's interesting, when I teach my students about African American history, I tell them about slavery. I tell them about terrorism, the era that began at the end of reconstruction that went on to World War II. We don't really know very much about it. But for African Americans in this country, that was an era defined by terror. In many communities, people had to worry about being lynched. They had to worry about being bombed. It was the threat of terror that shaped their lives. And these older people come up to me now and say, "Mr. Stevenson, you give talks, you make speeches, you tell people to stop saying we're dealing with terrorism for the first time in our nation's history after 9/11." They tell me to say, "No, tell them that we grew up with that." And that era of terrorism, of course, was followed by segregation and decades of racial subordination and apartheid.
Mnogo govorim o tim problemima. Govorim o rasi i tom pitanju -- zaslužujemo li ubiti. Zanimljivo, kad poučavam svoje studente o afroameričkoj povijesti, govorim im o ropstvu. Govorim im o terorizmu, o eri koja je počela krajem 19. stoljeća i trajala do 2. svjetskog rata. Ne znamo mnogo o tome. No, za Afroamerikance u ovoj zemlji, to je razdoblje obilježeno terorom. U mnogim su zajednicama ljudi strahovali da će biti linčovani. Bojali su se da će ih bombardirati. Prijetnja terora oblikovala je njihove živote. Stariji ljudi mi sada prilaze i kažu: "G. Stevenson, vi držite govore, recite ljudima da prestanu govoriti da se suočavamo s terorizmom po prvi put u povijesti našeg naroda nakon 11. rujna." Kažu mi: "Ne, recite im da smo mi odrasli uz to." Nakon te ere terorizma, naravno, slijedila je segregacija i desetljeća rasne potčinjenosti i apartheida.
And yet, we have in this country this dynamic where we really don't like to talk about our problems. We don't like to talk about our history. And because of that, we really haven't understood what it's meant to do the things we've done historically. We're constantly running into each other. We're constantly creating tensions and conflicts. We have a hard time talking about race, and I believe it's because we are unwilling to commit ourselves to a process of truth and reconciliation. In South Africa, people understood that we couldn't overcome apartheid without a commitment to truth and reconciliation. In Rwanda, even after the genocide, there was this commitment. But in this country, we haven't done that.
A ipak, u ovoj zemlji postoji ta dinamika da baš i ne volimo govoriti o svojim problemima. Ne volimo govoriti o svojoj prošlosti. Zbog toga zaista nismo shvatili pravo značenje stvari koje smo radili u prošlosti. Neprestano se zalijećemo jedni u druge. Neprestano stvaramo napetosti i sukobe. Teško nam je govoriti o rasi i mislim da je to stoga što se nismo voljni posvetiti procesu istine i pomirenja. U Južnoj Africi ljudi su shvatili da nismo mogli prevladati apartheid bez posvećenosti istini i pomirenju. U Ruandi je čak i nakon genocida postojala ta posvećenost, ali u ovoj zemlji nije.
I was giving some lectures in Germany about the death penalty. It was fascinating, because one of the scholars stood up after the presentation and said, "Well, you know, it's deeply troubling to hear what you're talking about." He said, "We don't have the death penalty in Germany, and of course, we can never have the death penalty in Germany." And the room got very quiet, and this woman said, "There's no way, with our history, we could ever engage in the systematic killing of human beings. It would be unconscionable for us to, in an intentional and deliberate way, set about executing people." And I thought about that. What would it feel like to be living in a world where the nation-state of Germany was executing people, especially if they were disproportionately Jewish? I couldn't bear it. It would be unconscionable.
U Njemačkoj sam održao nekoliko predavanja o smrtnoj kazni. Bilo je fascinantno jer je jedna od znanstvenica ustala nakon prezentacije i rekla: "Znate da je duboko uznemirujuće čuti to o čemu govorite." Rekla je: "U Njemačkoj nema smrtne kazne. Naravno, nikad nećemo ni moći imati smrtnu kaznu u Njemačkoj." Prostorija je utihnula i ta je žena rekla: "S obzirom na našu povijest, nema šanse da bismo se ikad mogli upustiti u sustavno ubijanje ljudskih bića. Za nas bi bilo nezamislivo da svjesno i namjerno počnemo pogubljivati ljude." Razmislio sam o tome. Kakav bi bio osjećaj živjeti na svijetu gdje Njemačka pogubljuje ljude, pogotovo ako je među njima nesrazmjerno mnogo židova? Nisam to mogao podnijeti. Bilo bi nepodnošljivo.
And yet, in this country, in the states of the Old South, we execute people -- where you're 11 times more likely to get the death penalty if the victim is white than if the victim is Black, 22 times more likely to get it if the defendant is Black and the victim is white -- in the very states where there are, buried in the ground, the bodies of people who were lynched. And yet, there is this disconnect.
Pa ipak, u ovoj zemlji, u starim južnjačkim državama, pogubljujemo ljude -- i imate 11 puta veće šanse dobiti smrtnu kaznu ako je žrtva bijela nego ako je crna, a 22 puta veće šanse ako je optuženi crnac, a žrtva bijela -- i to u državama gdje su zakopana tijela linčovanih ljudi. A ipak se oglušujemo. Mislim da stavljamo svoj identitet na kocku.
Well, I believe that our identity is at risk, that when we actually don't care about these difficult things, the positive and wonderful things are nonetheless implicated. We love innovation. We love technology. We love creativity. We love entertainment. But ultimately, those realities are shadowed by suffering, abuse, degradation, marginalization. And for me, it becomes necessary to integrate the two, because ultimately, we are talking about a need to be more hopeful, more committed, more dedicated to the basic challenges of living in a complex world. And for me, that means spending time thinking and talking about the poor, the disadvantaged, those who will never get to TED, but thinking about them in a way that is integrated in our own lives.
Iako nam baš i nije stalo do ovih teških stvari, pozitivne i prekrasne stvari ipak su u to umiješane. Mi volimo inovacije. Volimo tehnologiju. Volimo kreativnost. Volimo zabavu. No na kraju, ta su postignuća zasjenjena patnjom, zlostavljanjem, ponižavanjem, marginalizacijom. Mislim da je postalo nužno integrirati to dvoje. Radi se, na kraju krajeva, o potrebi da se više nadamo, da se više damo i posvetimo temeljnim izazovima života u složenome svijetu. Za mene to znači razmišljanje i razgovaranje o siromašnima, obespravljenima, onima koji nikad neće uspjeti doći na TED. No, treba razmišljati o njima na način koji je integriran u naše živote.
You know, ultimately, we all have to believe things we haven't seen. We do. As rational as we are, as committed to intellect as we are, innovation, creativity, development comes not from the ideas in our mind alone. They come from the ideas in our mind that are also fueled by some conviction in our heart. And it's that mind-heart connection that I believe compels us to not just be attentive to all the bright and dazzly things, but also the dark and difficult things. Václav Havel, the great Czech leader, talked about this. He said, "When we were in Eastern Europe and dealing with oppression, we wanted all kinds of things. But mostly what we needed was hope, an orientation of the spirit, a willingness to sometimes be in hopeless places and be a witness."
Na kraju, svi moramo vjerovati u stvari koje nismo vidjeli. Moramo. Koliko god bili racionalni, koliko se god pozivali na intelekt. Inovacije, kreativnost, i razvitak ne nastaju samo iz ideja u našem umu. Nastaju iz ideja u našem umu koje ujedno potiče neko uvjerenje u našem srcu. Vjerujem da ta povezanost uma i srca primorava nas ne samo da primjećujemo sve sjajne i privlačne stvari, već i na mračne i teške stvari. Vaclav Havel, veliki češki vođa, govorio je o tome. Rekao je: "Kad smo ovdje u istočnoj Europi bili potlačeni, željeli smo razne stvari, ali ponajviše smo trebali nadu, usmjerenost duha, voljnost da ponekad budemo na beznadnom mjestu i budemo svjedoci."
Well, that orientation of the spirit is very much at the core of what I believe even TED communities have to be engaged in. There is no disconnect around technology and design that will allow us to be fully human until we pay attention to suffering, to poverty, to exclusion, to unfairness, to injustice. Now, I will warn you that this kind of identity is a much more challenging identity than ones that don't pay attention to this. It will get to you.
Ta usmjerenost duha u samoj je srži onoga u što vjerujem da se čak i TED zajednice moraju uključiti. Ne postoji štit oko tehnologije i dizajna koji će nam omogućiti potpunu ljudskost dok ne obratim pažnju na patnju, siromaštvo, isključenost, nepoštenost, nepravdu. Upozorit ću vas da je ta vrsta identiteta mnogo zahtjevnija od onih koji ne obraćaju pažnju na to. Dotući će vas.
I had the great privilege, when I was a young lawyer, of meeting Rosa Parks. And Ms. Parks used to come back to Montgomery every now and then, and she would get together with two of her dearest friends, these older women, Johnnie Carr, who was the organizer of the Montgomery bus boycott -- amazing African American woman -- and Virginia Durr, a white woman, whose husband, Clifford Durr, represented Dr. King. And these women would get together and just talk.
Dok sam bio mladi odvjetnik, imao sam veliku privilegiju upoznati Rosu Parks. Gđa Parks svako bi se toliko vratila u Montgomery i družila se sa svoje dvije najbolje prijateljice, starije žene, Johnnie Carr, koja je bila organizatorica bojkota autobusa u Montgomeryju -- fascinantna Afroamerikanka -- i Virginijom Durr, bjelkinjom čiji je suprug, Clifford Durr, zastupao dr. Kinga. One bi se skupile i samo razgovarale.
And every now and then Ms. Carr would call me, and she'd say, "Bryan, Ms. Parks is coming to town. We're going to get together and talk. Do you want to come over and listen?" And I'd say, "Yes, ma'am, I do." She'd say, "What are you going to do when you get here?" I said, "I'm going to listen." And I'd go over there and I would, I'd just listen. It would be so energizing and so empowering.
Povremeno bi me nazvala gđa Carr i rekla: "Bryane, gđa Parks dolazi u grad. Sastat ćemo se i razgovarati. Želiš li doći i slušati?" A ja bih rekao: "Da, gospođo, želim." Rekla bi: "Što ćeš raditi kad dođeš ovamo?" Odgovorio sam: "Slušat ću." I otišao bih onamo i samo slušao. To bi me toliko osnažilo i dalo mi energiju.
And one time I was over there listening to these women talk, and after a couple of hours, Ms. Parks turned to me and said, "Bryan, tell me what the Equal Justice Initiative is. Tell me what you're trying to do." And I began giving her my rap. "We're trying to challenge injustice. We're trying to help people who have been wrongly convicted. We're trying to confront bias and discrimination in the administration of criminal justice. We're trying to end life without parole sentences for children. We're trying to do something about the death penalty. We're trying to reduce the prison population. We're trying to end mass incarceration."
Jednom kad sam ih tako slušao, nakon nekoliko sati gđa Parks okrenula se prema meni i rekla: "No, Bryane, reci mi što je Inicijativa za jednaku pravdu. Reci mi što želiš postići." Počeo sam sa svojim uobičajenim govorom. Rekao sam: "Nastojimo upozoriti na nepravdu. Pokušavamo pomoći ljudima koji su nepravedno osuđeni. Želimo se suočiti s pristranošću i diskriminacijom u administraciji kaznenog prava. Želimo ukidanje doživotnih kazni bez mogućnosti pomilovanja za djecu. Želimo učiniti nešto po pitanju smrtne kazne. Nastojimo smanjiti broj ljudi u zatvorima. Želimo zaustaviti masovno zatvaranje." Sve sam joj izrecitirao, a kad sam završio, pogledala me
I gave her my whole rap, and when I finished she looked at me and she said, "Mmm mmm mmm. That's going to make you tired, tired, tired."
i rekla: "Mmm mmm mmm." Rekla je: "To će te umoriti, umoriti, umoriti." (Smijeh)
(Laughter)
Tada se gđa Carr nagnula i zaprijetila mi prstom
And that's when Ms. Carr leaned forward, she put her finger in my face, she said, "That's why you've got to be brave, brave, brave."
te rekla: "Zato moraš biti hrabar, hrabar, hrabar."
And I actually believe that the TED community needs to be more courageous. We need to find ways to embrace these challenges, these problems, the suffering. Because ultimately, our humanity depends on everyone's humanity. I've learned very simple things doing the work that I do. It's just taught me very simple things. I've come to understand and to believe that each of us is more than the worst thing we've ever done. I believe that for every person on the planet. I think if somebody tells a lie, they're not just a liar. I think if somebody takes something that doesn't belong to them, they're not just a thief. I think even if you kill someone, you're not just a killer. And because of that, there's this basic human dignity that must be respected by law. I also believe that in many parts of this country, and certainly in many parts of this globe, that the opposite of poverty is not wealth. I don't believe that. I actually think, in too many places, the opposite of poverty is justice.
Zaista vjerujem da TED zajednica mora biti hrabrija. Moramo pronaći načine prihvaćanja tih izazova, tih problema, te patnje. Naša ljudskost ovisi, na kraju, o ljudskosti svih ostalih. Baveći se ovim poslom naučio sam vrlo jednostavne stvari. Posao me naučio vrlo jednostavnim stvarima. Sada shvaćam i vjerujem da nitko od nas nije samo ono najgore što je ikad učinio. Vjerujem da je tako sa svakom osobom na planetu. Mislim da, ako netko kaže laž, nije samo lažljivac. Mislim da, ako netko uzme nešto što mu ne pripada, nije samo lopov. Mislim da, čak i ako ubiješ nekoga, nisi samo ubojica. Zbog toga postoji temeljno ljudsko dostojanstvo koje zakon mora poštovati. Također vjerujem da u mnogim dijelovima ove zemlje, a svakako i u mnogim dijelovima svijeta, suprotno od siromaštva nije bogatstvo. Ne mislim to. Zapravo mislim da je i na previše mjesta suprotno od siromaštva pravda.
And finally, I believe that, despite the fact that it is so dramatic and so beautiful and so inspiring and so stimulating, we will ultimately not be judged by our technology, we won't be judged by our design, we won't be judged by our intellect and reason. Ultimately, you judge the character of a society not by how they treat their rich and the powerful and the privileged, but by how they treat the poor, the condemned, the incarcerated. Because it's in that nexus that we actually begin to understand truly profound things about who we are.
Na kraju, mislim da, unatoč činjenici da je to tako dramatično i predivno i nadahnjuje nas i stimulira, na kraju nam neće suditi naša tehnologija, neće nam suditi naš dizajn, neće nam suditi prema našem intelektu i razumu. Karakter društva ne prosuđuje se, na kraju, prema tome kako se odnosti prema bogatima i moćnima i privilegiranima, već prema tome kako se odnosi prema siromašnima, osuđenima, zatvorenima. U toj povezanosti zapravo počinjemo duboko shvaćati tko smo.
I sometimes get out of balance. I'll end with this story. I sometimes push too hard. I do get tired, as we all do. Sometimes those ideas get ahead of our thinking in ways that are important. And I've been representing these kids who have been sentenced to these very harsh sentences. And I go to the jail and I see my client, who's 13 and 14, and he's been certified to stand trial as an adult. I start thinking, well, how did that happen? How can a judge turn you into something that you're not? And the judge has certified him as an adult, but I see this kid.
Ponekad me to izbaci iz ravnoteže. Završit ću s ovom pričom. Ponekad pretjeram. Umorim se, kao i svi. Ponekad te ideje stanu ispred razmišljanja na načine koji su bitni. Ja zastupam djecu koja su osuđena na vrlo stroge kazne. Odlazim u zatvor svojem klijentu koji ima 13 ili 14 g., a određeno je da ćemu se suditi kao odraslome. Počinjem razmišljati kako je došlo do toga. Kako te sudac može pretvoriti u nešto što nisi? Sudac ga smatra odraslim, ali ja vidim dijete.
And I was up too late one night and I started thinking, well, if the judge can turn you into something you're not, the judge must have magic power. Yeah, Bryan, the judge has some magic power. You should ask for some of that. And because I was up too late and wasn't thinking real straight, I started working on a motion. I had a client who was 14 years old, a young, poor Black kid. And I started working on this motion, and the head of the motion was: "Motion to try my poor, 14-year-old Black male client like a privileged, white, 75-year-old corporate executive."
Jedne sam noći predugo bio budan i razmišljao, Bože, ako te sudac može pretvoriti u nešto što nisi, sigurno ima čarobne moći. Da, Bryane, sudac ima čarobne moći. I tebi bi to dobro došlo. Budući da sam bio budan prekasno, nisam razmišljao bistre glave i počeo sam raditi na podnesku. Imao sam klijenta koji je imao 14 godina i bio siromašno crno dijete. Počeo sam raditi na podnesku čiji je naslov bio: "Podnesak da se mojem siromašnom 14-godišnjem crnom muškom klijentu sudi kao privilegiranom, bijelom 75-godišnjem izvršnom direktoru."
(Laughter)
(Pljesak)
(Applause and cheers)
U svoj sam podnesak uključio
And I put in my motion that there was prosecutorial misconduct and police misconduct and judicial misconduct. There was a crazy line in there about how there's no conduct in this county, it's all misconduct. And the next morning, I woke up and I thought, now, did I dream that crazy motion, or did I actually write it? And to my horror, not only had I written it, but I had sent it to court.
da je bilo nepravilnosti od strane tužitelja, policije i suda. Bila je tu i rečenica kako u ovoj zemlji ni nema pravilnog postupanja, sve su nepravilnosti. Sljedećeg sam se jutra probudio i mislio jesam li sanjao taj ludi podnesak ili sam ga stvarno napisao? U šoku sam otkrio da ne samo da sam ga napisao, nego sam ga i poslao na sud. (Pljesak)
(Applause)
Prošlo je nekoliko mjeseci
A couple months went by, and I just had forgotten all about it. And I finally decided, "Gosh, I've got to go to the court and do this crazy case." And I got in my car, and I was feeling really overwhelmed -- overwhelmed. And I got in my car and went to this courthouse. And I was thinking, this is going to be so difficult, so painful. And I finally got out of the car and started walking up to the courthouse.
i potpuno sam zaboravio na to. Na kraju sam odlučio da moram otići na sud i riješiti taj ludi slučaj. Ušao sam u auto i osjećao sam se zaista preplavljeno. Ušao sam u auto i odvezao se do sudnice. Mislio sam kako će to biti vrlo teško i bolno. Natjerao sam se da iziđem iz auta i krenem prema sudnici.
Dok sam se penjao stepenicama,
And as I was walking up the steps, there was an older Black man who was the janitor in this courthouse. When this man saw me, he came over and said, "Who are you?" I said, "I'm a lawyer." He said, "You're a lawyer?" I said, "Yes, sir." And this man came over to me, and he hugged me. And he whispered in my ear. He said, "I'm so proud of you." And I have to tell you, it was energizing. It connected deeply with something in me about identity, about the capacity of every person to contribute to community, to a perspective that is hopeful.
vidio sam starijeg crnca koji je bio domar u sudnici. Kad me vidio, prišao mi je i rekao: "Tko si ti?" Rekao sam: "Odvjetnik sam." Rekao je: "Odvjetnik?" Odgovorio sam: "Tako je." Zatim mi je prišao i zagrlio me. Šapnuo mi je u uho: "Tako sam ponosan na tebe." Moram vam priznati da mi je to dalo energiju. Duboko se u meni povezalo s identitetom, sa sposobnošću svake osobe da doprinese zajednici, perspektivi u kojoj ima nade.
Well, I went into the courtroom. And as soon as I walked in, the judge saw me coming. He said, "Mr. Stevenson, did you write this crazy motion?" I said, "Yes, sir. I did." And we started arguing. And people started coming in, just outraged I'd written these crazy things. And police officers were coming in and assistant prosecutors and clerk workers. Before I knew it, the courtroom was filled with people angry that we were talking about race, that we were talking about poverty, talking about inequality.
Dakle, ušao sam u sudnicu. Čim sam ušao, sudac me primijetio. Rekao je: "G. Stevenson, jeste li Vi napisali ovaj ludi podnesak?" Rekao sam: "Da, jesam." Počeli smo se prepirati. Ljudi su počeli ulaziti jer su bilo šokirani. Napisao sam lude stvari. Ulazili su policajci, pomoćnici tužitelja i činovnici. Sudnica je u tren oka bila puna ljudi ljutih što govorimo o rasi, što govorimo o siromaštvu, što govorimo o nejednakosti.
And out of the corner of my eye, I could see this janitor pacing back and forth. He kept looking through the window and could hear all the holler. And finally, this older Black man with a very worried look on his face came into the courtroom and sat behind me, almost at counsel table. Ten minutes later, the judge said we'd take a break. During the break, there was a deputy sheriff who was offended that the janitor had come into court. The deputy jumped up and ran over to this older Black man. He said, "Jimmy, what are you doing in this courtroom?" And this older Black man stood up and looked at that deputy and he looked at me, and he said, "I came into this courtroom to tell this young man, 'Keep your eyes on the prize, hold on.'"
Krajičkom oka vidio sam domara kako korača amo-tamo. Pogledavao je kroz prozor i čuo svu tu dernjavu. Neprestano je koračao amo-tamo. Na kraju je taj stari crnac sa zabrinutim izrazom lica ušao u sudnicu i sjeo iza mene, gotovo za odvjetničkim stolom. Nakon desetak minuta, sudac je odredio pauzu. Tijekom pauze vidio sam zamjenika šerifa koji je bio uvrijeđen što je domar ušao u sudnicu. Taj je zamjenik naglo ustao i otrčao do tog starog crnca. Rekao je: "Jimmy, što radiš u ovoj sudnici?" Starac je ustao, pogledao zamjenika šerifa pa mene i rekao: "Došao sam u sudnicu kako bih ovom mladiću rekao da se usredotoči na cilj, da izdrži."
I've come to TED because I believe that many of you understand that the moral arc of the universe is long, but it bends toward justice; that we cannot be full, evolved human beings until we care about human rights and basic dignity; that all of our survival is tied to the survival of everyone; that our visions of technology and design and entertainment and creativity have to be married with visions of humanity, compassion and justice. And more than anything, for those of you who share that, I've simply come to tell you to keep your eyes on the prize, hold on.
Došao sam na TED jer vjerujem da mnogi od vas shvaćaju da je moralni luk svemira dug, ali naginje se prema pravdi. Ne možemo potpuno evoluirati kao ljudska bića dok ne počnemo brinuti za ljudska prava i temeljno dostojanstvo. Preživljavanje svih nas povezano je s preživljavanjem svih ostalih. Naše vizije tehnologije i dizajna i zabave i kreativnosti moraju se povezati s vizijama ljudskosti, suosjećanja i pravde. A najviše od svega, vama koji već tako razmišljate došao sam reći da se usredotočite na cilj i izdržite.
Thank you very much.
Hvala vam puno.
(Applause and cheers)
(Pljesak)
Chris Anderson: Brian, so you heard and saw an obvious desire by this audience, this community, to help you on your way and to do something on this issue. Other than writing a check, what could we do?
Chris Anderson: Vidio si i čuo da ova publika, odnosno zajednica, ima veliku želju pomoći ti da učiniš nešto po ovom pitanju. Osim doniranja novca, što još možemo učiniti?
BS: Well, there are opportunities all around us. If you live in the state of California, for example, there's a referendum coming up this spring where there's going to be an effort to redirect some of the money we spend on the politics of punishment. For example, here in California, we're going to spend one billion dollars on the death penalty in the next five years -- one billion dollars. And yet, 46 percent of all homicide cases don't result in arrest, 56 percent of all rape cases don't result. So there's an opportunity to change that. And this referendum would propose having those dollars go to law enforcement and safety. And I think that opportunity exists all around us.
BS: Prilike su svugdje oko nas. Ako, primjerice, živite u Kaliforniji, na proljeće će biti referendum kojim će se pokušati preusmjeriti dio novca koji trošimo na politiku kažnjavanja. Na primjer, ovdje u Kaliforniji potrošit ćemo milijardu dolara na smrtnu kaznu u idućih pet godina -- milijardu dolara. A ipak, 46% slučajeva ubojstva ne završi uhićenjem. Isto tako i 56% slučajeva silovanja. Tu je, dakle, prilika za promjenu. Taj će referendum predložiti preusmjerenje tih dolara u policiju i sigurnost. Mislim da ta prilika postoji svugdje oko nas.
CA: There's been this huge decline in crime in America over the last three decades. And part of the narrative of that is sometimes that it's about increased incarceration rates. What would you say to someone who believed that?
CA: Došlo je do velikog opadanja stope zločina u Americi u posljednja tri desetljeća. Jedno od objašnjenja ponekad je da je to zbog povećanog broja zatvorenika. Što biste rekli nekome tko tako misli?
BS: Well, actually, the violent crime rate has remained relatively stable. The great increase in mass incarceration in this country wasn't really in violent crime categories. It was this misguided war on drugs. That's where the dramatic increases have come in our prison population.
BS: Stopa nasilnih zločina zapravo je relativno stabilna. Velik porast broja zatvorenika u ovoj zemlji zapravo nije u kategoriji nasilnih zločina. Tu se radi u promašenom ratu protiv droge. Odatle taj dramatičan porast broja zatvorenika.
(Applause)
Zanijeli smo se retorikom kažnjavanja.
And we got carried away with the rhetoric of punishment. And so we have "Three Strikes" laws that put people in prison forever for stealing a bicycle, for low-level property crimes, rather than making them give those resources back to the people who they victimized. I believe we need to do more to help people who are victimized by crime, not do less. And I think our current punishment philosophy does nothing for no one. And I think that's the orientation that we have to change.
Tako imamo zakone o tri pogreške koji ljude zauvijek šalju u zatvor zbog krađe bicikla, zbog sitnih zločina protiv vlasništva, umjesto da narede vraćanje ukradenog ljudima kojima je nanesena šteta. Mislim da moramo više pomagati ljudima kojima je zločinom nanesena šteta, a ne manje. Mislim da naša trenutna filozofija kažnjavanja ne koristi nikome. Mislim da je to orijentacija koju moramo promijeniti. (Pljesak)
(Applause)
CA: Bryane, pogodio si žicu.
CA: Bryan, you've struck a massive chord here. You're an inspiring person. Thank you so much for coming to TED. Thank you.
Nadahnuo si nas. Hvala ti što si došao na TED. Hvala. (Pljesak)
(Applause and cheers)
BS: Thank you. Thank you. (Applause and cheers)