"I've got people in me." So sang the late Abbey Lincoln. I take that lyric as mantra. "I've got people in me." Jomama Jones is the person in me I turn to as a guide. She's my alter ego. I've been embodying her in performance since 1995, and she comes around when she has some insight to offer folks. At this time of radical change, I'm glad to be the vessel for her message to you.
"Teño xente dentro de mí" Así o cantaba a finada Abbey Lincoln Tomo esta letra coma un mantra "Teño xente dentro de min" Jomama Jones é a persoa dentro de min que me serve como guía Ela é o meu alter ego Levo desde 1995 encarnándoa en actuacións ela aparece cando ten algo de coñecemento para ofrecer a outros Neste tempo de cambio radical estou contento de ser o recipiente que contén a súa mensaxe para vós
Jomama Jones: What if I told you it's going to be alright ... but what if I told you not yet? What if I told you there are trials ahead beyond your deepest fears? What if I told you will you fall ... down, down, down? But what if I told you you will surprise yourself? What if I told you will be brave enough? What if I told you we won't all make it through? But what if I told you that is as it must be? What if I told you I've seen the future?
Jomama Jones: E se che dixese todo vai ir ben pero se che digo que aínda non? E se che dixese que quedan probas por diante máis alá dos teus medos máis profundos E se che dixese que caerás baixo, baixo, baixo....? pero e se che dixese que te sorprenderás? Que serás o suficientemente valente? E se che dixese que non o conseguiremos todos? pero se che dixese que eso é como ten que ser? E se che dixese que vin o futuro?
Do you like my hands? They're expressive, yeah? Now look at your hands -- now go on. There's so much history recorded through their touches and marks of the future sketched on their palms. Sometimes hands grip tight, sometimes hands let go. What if I told you it's all going to come undone? Hm.
Gústanche as miñas mans? Son expresivas, non si? Agora mira as túas mans, adiante. Hai tanta historia grabada a través do seu tacto E marcas do futuro debuxadas nas palmas Ás veces as mans agarran forte, outras veces deixan ir E se che dixese que todo se vai desfacer? Mmm
Ladies and gentlemen and otherwise described, I am Jomama Jones. Some call me a soul sonic superstar, and I agree, though even in my past that was from the future.
Señoras e señores e os doutro xeito descrito Eu son Jomama Jones Algúns chámanme alma superestar sónica e estou dacordo aínda que incluso no meu pasado iso era do futuro
Let me take you back to girlhood. Picture this: it was Planting Day, which was a holiday I invented for the Black youth community group I founded. I dashed home to put on my gardening ensemble when I caught my uncle Freeman red-handed. He was standing over my piggy bank with his hammer raised high. He was fixing to steal my coins.
Déixame levarte de volta a infancia dunha nena Imaxina isto: Era o Día da Plantación, una festa que eu creei para a o grupo de xuventudes Negras que eu fundei Corrín á miña casa para vestirme co meu conxunto de xardinería cando me encontrei ó meu tío Freeman coas mans na masa Estaba de pé en frente do meu peto co martelo levantado. Estaba tentando roubarme as moedas.
And you see, my uncle Freeman was a handyman. He could fix anything -- a broken chair, a shattered pot -- even bring grandmother's plants back to life. He had that magic touch with broken things ... and broken people. He would take me with him on his jobs and say, "C'mon Jo, let's go do something to make this world a better place." His hands were wide and calloused, and they always reminded me of displaced tree roots.
Sabes, o meu tío Freeman era un manitas El podía arranxar calquera cousa: unha cadeira rota, unha maceta... incluso revivir as plantas da miña avoa. Tiña un tacto máxico para as cousas e a xente rota. Levábame con el ós seus traballos e dicía: "Vamos Jo, vamos transformar este mundo nun sitio mellor." As súas mans eran anchas e encalecidas se me asemellaban a raíces de árbores espalladas.
As we worked he would talk with folks about the change he was sure was just around the corner. I saw him mend flagging hopes and leave folks with their heads held high. His hands stirred the sunshine.
Mentres traballábamos el falaba con compañeiros sobre o cambio que el estaba seguro ía ocurrir Eu vino reparar esperanzas e deixar compañeiros coas cabezas ben altas As súas mans avivaban a luz do sol.
And now he was about to break my piggy bank. I said "Step back, man, and show me your hands." You know the irony was he used to give me all the old coins he'd find under floorboards while working. And I put them in the piggy bank along with the money I earned through my childhood side hustles.
E agora estaba a punto de escachar o meu peto. Dixen: "Retrocede e ensíname as mans." A ironía era que el me daba todas as moedas que atopaba baixo o parqué mentres traballaba e eu gardábaas no peto xunto ao diñeiro que gañaba grazas aos meus cholliños de neno
But by the spring of 1970, Uncle Freeman had lost his touch ... along with most of his jobs. He saw a heavy future of civil wrongs and Black power outages in his palms. The last straw had come the previous winter when they had gunned down Fred Hampton. Overwhelmed with fear and rage and grief, Uncle Freeman tried to game his future. He gripped too tight, and he started playing the numbers.
Mais na primaveira de 1970 o tío Freeman perdeu a súa maxia xunto coa maioría dos seus traballos. El veía un futuro duro de perda de dereitos civís e poder Negro nas súas palmas A pinga que colmou o vaso foi o inverno anterior cando mataron a tiros a Fred Hampton. Sobrepasado polo medo, a ira e a pena, o tío Freeman tentou xogar co seu futuro. Agarrou con moita forza, e comenzou a xogar á lotería.
"Well, one of these numbers is gonna hit, little girl. You got a quarter for your uncle Free -- " Now some of y'all have that relative. But I knew right then and there I had to do something. I jumped up and I grabbed that hammer and I brought it crashing down on that pig. And Uncle Freeman started to weep as I gathered up all the coins. "We're not buying no lottery ticket, Uncle Freeman. C'mon."
"Un destes números vai tocar, neniña, tes unha moeda para o teu tío Free-" Algúns de vos tedes ese familiar. Pero souben nese momento que tiña que facer algo. Saltei e agarrei o martelo movéndoo ata romper o peto. O tío Freeman comenzou a chorar mentres eu recollía as moedas. "Non vamos comprar lotería, tío Freeman. Vamos"
We spent every last cent at the seed store. You know, the kids in my gardening group? They didn't bat an eye when I had Uncle Freeman get down and put his hands in the earth again and start breaking up that soil for our seeds. And my little friend Taesha even came over and started slapping him on the back saying, "Cry it out, Uncle Freeman. Cry it out."
Gastamos ata a última moeda na tenda de sementes E os nenos no grupo de xardinería? nin se inmutaron cando conseguín que o tío Freeman e puxese outra vez as súas mans na terra e comenzou a preparar a terra para as nosas sementes. E a miña amiga Taesha veu e comenzou a darlle golpes nas costas dicindo: "Chora, tío Freeman, Chora."
"I can't fix this," he sobbed. It's an ancient-future truism, that. He wasn't the first to feel that way, and he wouldn't be the last. Right now, it feels as though everything is breaking beyond repair. It is. But that breaking apart can be a breaking open, no matter how violent and uncertain and fearsome it seems. The thing is ... we can't do it alone.
"Non podo resolver isto" suspirou. . Isto é unha perogrullada de sempre Non era o primeiro en sentirse así, e non sería o derradeiro. Agora mesmo, parece que todo está a romper completamente. Así é Pero esa rotura pode ser oportunidade, por máis violento e incerto e temible que pareza. A cousa é... non podemos facelo sós.
Uncle Freeman cried so much that day as we planted our seeds, he was our very own irrigation system. "I don't know who I am anymore, little girl," he said to me at sundown. "Good, Uncle Freeman. Good. You're new again, and that's just how we need you."
O tío Freeman chorou tanto aquel día, mentres plantaba as sementes Foi o noso principal sistema de irrigación. "Xa non sei quen son, rapaza", díxome ó solpor. "Moi ben, tío Freeman, Moi ben Eres novo una vez mais, e así é como te necesitamos"