Tinc por. Ara mateix, en aquest escenari, tinc por. A la vida he conegut poques persones que admetin obertament que tenen por. I crec que és perquè, en el fons, saben que s'estén ràpid. La por és com una malaltia, quan s'escampa, ho fa com un foc incontrolat. Però què passa quan, fins i tot quan tens por, fas el que has de fer? D'això se'n diu coratge. i, igual que la por, el coratge és contagiós.
So, I'm afraid. Right now, on this stage, I feel fear. In my life, I ain't met many people that will readily admit when they are afraid. And I think that's because deep down, they know how easy it spreads. See, fear is like a disease. When it moves, it moves like wildfire. But what happens when, even in the face of that fear, you do what you've got to do? That's called courage. And just like fear, courage is contagious.
Sóc de East St. Louis, Illinois. És una ciutat petita a l'altra banda del riu Mississippi de St. Louis, Missouri. He viscut a St. Louis i als voltants tota la meva vida. Quan Michael Brown Jr., un noi normal, va ser abatut per la policia el 2014 a Ferguson, Missouri, un altre suburbi al nord de St. Louis, recordo que vaig pensar que no era el primer, ni seria l'últim jove que perdria la vida a mans de policies.
See, I'm from East St. Louis, Illinois. That's a small city across the Mississippi River from St. Louis, Missouri. I have lived in and around St. Louis my entire life. When Michael Brown, Jr., an ordinary teenager, was gunned down by police in 2014 in Ferguson, Missouri -- another suburb, but north of St. Louis -- I remember thinking, he ain't the first, and he won't be the last young kid to lose his life to law enforcement.
Però la seva mort va ser diferent. Quan Mike va ser assassinat els poders van intentar que la por fos una arma. La resposta de la policia vers una comunitat de dol va ser la força per imposar la por: por de la policia militaritzada, empresonament, multes. Els mitjans van intentar que tinguéssim por d'altres, van tergiversar-ho tot. Tot això havia funcionat abans, però, com he dit, aquest cop era diferent.
But see, his death was different. When Mike was killed, I remember the powers that be trying to use fear as a weapon. The police response to a community in mourning was to use force to impose fear: fear of militarized police, imprisonment, fines. The media even tried to make us afraid of each other by the way they spun the story. And all of these things have worked in the past. But like I said, this time it was different.
La mort de Michael Brown i el tractament posterior de la comunitat va desencadenar una sèrie de protestes a Ferguson, St. Louis i els voltants. Quan vaig anar cap a les manifestacions, quatre o cinc dies després, no va ser per coratge, sinó pel sentiment de culpa. Sóc negre, no sé si us n'havíeu adonat.
Michael Brown's death and the subsequent treatment of the community led to a string of protests in and around Ferguson and St. Louis. When I got out to those protests about the fourth or fifth day, it was not out of courage; it was out of guilt. See, I'm black. I don't know if y'all noticed that.
(Riures)
(Laughter)
Però no podia ser a St. Louis, a minuts de Ferguson i no anar-ho a veure. Em vaig espavilar i hi vaig anar.
But I couldn't sit in St. Louis, minutes away from Ferguson, and not go see. So I got off my ass to go check it out.
Quan hi vaig arribar, em vaig sorprendre. Hi havia ràbia, moltíssima, però el que més hi havia era amor, gent amb amor a ells mateixos, amor a la comunitat, i era preciós... fins que va arribar la policia. Llavors un nou sentiment va entrar a la conversa: la por.
When I got out there, I found something surprising. I found anger; there was a lot of that. But what I found more of was love. People with love for themselves. Love for their community. And it was beautiful -- until the police showed up. Then a new emotion was interjected into the conversation: fear.
No us enganyaré, quan vaig veure aquells vehicles blindats, tot aquell equipament, aquelles pistoles i tota aquella policia, estava aterrat, personalment. Quan vaig mirar la multitud, vaig veure que molta gent sentia el mateix, però també vaig veure gent que tenia alguna altra cosa: el coratge. Aquesta gent cridava, xisclava, i no reculaven per la policia. Ja ho havien superat. Llavors alguna cosa va canviar en mi, i vaig cridar i xisclar i vaig notar que tothom al meu voltant feia el mateix. No hi havia res com aquest sentiment.
Now, I'm not going to lie; when I saw those armored vehicles, and all that gear and all those guns and all those police I was terrified -- personally. And when I looked around that crowd, I saw a lot of people that had the same thing going on. But I also saw people with something else inside of them. That was courage. See, those people yelled, and they screamed, and they were not about to back down from the police. They were past that point. And then I could feel something in me changing, so I yelled and I screamed, and I noticed that everybody around me was doing the same thing. And there was nothing like that feeling.
Per això vaig decidir que volia fer més. Vaig anar a casa i vaig pensar: "sóc artista, faig coses". I vaig començar a fer coses relacionades amb la protesta, coses que serien armes en una guerra espiritual, coses que donessin veu a la gent, i coses que els fessin més forts vers el futur.
So I decided I wanted to do something more. I went home, I thought: I'm an artist. I make shit. So I started making things specific to the protest, things that would be weapons in a spiritual war, things that would give people voice and things that would fortify them for the road ahead.
Vaig fer un projecte en què feia fotos de les mans dels manifestants i les penjava en edificis abandonats i botigues de barri. L'objectiu era despertar la consciència i la moral. I crec que, per un moment, ho vaig fer. Després, vaig voler elevar les històries d'aquesta gent, veia com la gent s'encoratjava en aquell moment. Així doncs, amb el meu amic Sabaah Folayan, company i cineasta, ho vam fer amb el nostre documental: "Whose Streets?"
I did a project where I took pictures of the hands of protesters and put them up and down the boarded-up buildings and community shops. My goal was to raise awareness and to raise the morale. And I think, for a minute at least, it did just that. Then I thought, I want to uplift the stories of these people I was watching being courageous in the moment. And myself and my friend, and filmmaker and partner Sabaah Folayan did just that with our documentary, "Whose Streets?"
Vaig ser una mena de conductor de tot aquest coratge que havia rebut. I crec que això és part de la nostra feina com a artistes. Hauríem de ser transportadors de coratge amb allò que fem, som la paret entre la gent normal i la gent que usa el poder per propagar por i odi, especialment en moments així.
I kind of became a conduit for all of this courage that was given to me. And I think that's part of our job as artists. I think we should be conveyors of courage in the work that we do. And I think that we are the wall between the normal folks and the people that use their power to spread fear and hate, especially in times like these.
Així doncs, us pregunto a vosaltres, els que en sabeu, és a dir, els líders intel·lectuals, què fareu amb el que us han regalat per allunyar-nos de la por que ens cega cada dia?
So I'm going to ask you. Y'all the movers and the shakers, you know, the thought leaders: What are you gonna do with the gifts that you've been given to break us from the fear the binds us every day?
Perquè jo tinc por cada dia, no recordo un dia en què no en tingués. Però quan em vaig adonar que la por no serveix per incapacitar-me, sinó que serveix per a protegir-me i quan vaig descobrir com usar aquesta por, vaig trobar el meu poder.
Because, see, I'm afraid every day. I can't remember a time when I wasn't. But once I figured out that fear was not put in me to cripple me, it was there to protect me, and once I figured out how to use that fear, I found my power.
Gràcies.
Thank you.
(Aplaudiments)
(Applause)