Tonight, I'm going to try to make the case that inviting a loved one, a friend or even a stranger to record a meaningful interview with you just might turn out to be one of the most important moments in that person's life, and in yours.
Večeras ću pokušati da vam predstavim kako poziv voljenoj osobi, prijatelju ili čak i nekom nepoznatom da snimi značajan intervju sa vama može biti jedan od najvažnijih trenutaka u životu te osobe, a i u vašem.
When I was 22 years old, I was lucky enough to find my calling when I fell into making radio stories. At almost the exact same time, I found out that my dad, who I was very, very close to, was gay. I was taken completely by surprise. We were a very tight-knit family, and I was crushed. At some point, in one of our strained conversations, my dad mentioned the Stonewall riots. He told me that one night in 1969, a group of young black and Latino drag queens fought back against the police at a gay bar in Manhattan called the Stonewall Inn, and how this sparked the modern gay rights movement.
Kada sam imao 22 godine, imao sam sreće da otkrijem svoj poziv kada sam ušao u pravljenje radio priča. Gotovo istovremeno, saznao sam da je moj tata, sa kim sam bio veoma, veoma blizak, gej. Bio sam potpuno iznenađen. Bili smo vrlo povezana porodica, i bio sam slomljen. U nekom trenutku, u jednom od naših nategnutih razgovora, moj tata je pomenuo Stounvolsku pobunu. Rekao mi je da se jedne noći 1969. godine grupa mladih crnačkih i latino transvestita borila protiv policije u gej baru na Menhetnu zvanom Stounvol In, i da je to pokrenulo moderni pokret za gej prava.
It was an amazing story, and it piqued my interest. So I decided to pick up my tape recorder and find out more. With the help of a young archivist named Michael Shirker, we tracked down all of the people we could find who had been at the Stonewall Inn that night. Recording these interviews, I saw how the microphone gave me the license to go places I otherwise never would have gone and talk to people I might not otherwise ever have spoken to. I had the privilege of getting to know some of the most amazing, fierce and courageous human beings I had ever met. It was the first time the story of Stonewall had been told to a national audience. I dedicated the program to my dad, it changed my relationship with him, and it changed my life.
To je bila neverovatna priča i probudila je moju zainteresovanost. Tako da sam odlučio da uzmem svoj diktafon i saznam više o tome. Uz pomoć mladog arhiviste po imenu Majkl Širker, pronašli smo sve ljude koje je bilo moguće naći koji su bili u Stounvol Inu te noći. Snimajući te intervjue, video sam kako mi je mikrofon dao dozvolu da odem na mesta na koja inače ne bih otišao i pričam sa ljudima sa kojima inače ne bih nikada pričao. Imao sam privilegiju da upoznam neke od najneverovatnijih, žestokih i hrabrih ljudi koje sam ikada sreo. To je bilo prvi put da je priča o Stounvolu saopštena domaćoj publici. Posvetio sam program mom tati, to je promenilo moj odnos sa njim i promenilo je moj život.
Over the next 15 years, I made many more radio documentaries, working to shine a light on people who are rarely heard from in the media. Over and over again, I'd see how this simple act of being interviewed could mean so much to people, particularly those who had been told that their stories didn't matter. I could literally see people's back straighten as they started to speak into the microphone.
Tokom narednih 15 godina, napravio sam mnogo drugih radio dokumentaraca, radeći na tome da bacim svetlost na ljude koji se retko čuju u medijima. Iznova i iznova, video bih kako ovaj jednostavan čin intervjuisanja toliko mnogo znači ljudima, naročito onima kojima je rečeno da njihove priče nisu bitne. Bukvalno bih video kako se ljudima isprave leđa kada počinju da pričaju u mikrofon.
In 1998, I made a documentary about the last flophouse hotels on the Bowery in Manhattan. Guys stayed up in these cheap hotels for decades. They lived in cubicles the size of prison cells covered with chicken wire so you couldn't jump from one room into the next. Later, I wrote a book on the men with the photographer Harvey Wang. I remember walking into a flophouse with an early version of the book and showing one of the guys his page. He stood there staring at it in silence, then he grabbed the book out of my hand and started running down the long, narrow hallway holding it over his head shouting, "I exist! I exist." (Applause)
1998. godine sam napravio dokumentarac o poslednjim sirotinjskim hotelima u Boveriju na Menhetnu. Ljudi su decenijama ostajali u tim jeftinim hotelima. Živeli su u kabinama veličine zatvorske ćelije prekrivenim žičanom preprekom tako da ne možete da uskačete iz jedne sobe u drugu. Kasnije sam napisao knjigu o tim ljudima sa fotografom Harvijem Vengom. Sećam se da sam ušetao u hotel sa ranom verzijom knjige i pokazao jednom tipu njegovu stranicu. Stajao je i u tišini zurio u nju, zatim je zgrabio knjigu iz moje ruke i počeo da trči niz dugačak uzani hodnik držeći je iznad glave i uzvikujući: "Ja postojim! Ja postojim!" (Aplauz)
In many ways, "I exist" became the clarion call for StoryCorps, this crazy idea that I had a dozen years ago. The thought was to take documentary work and turn it on its head. Traditionally, broadcast documentary has been about recording interviews to create a work of art or entertainment or education that is seen or heard by a whole lot of people, but I wanted to try something where the interview itself was the purpose of this work, and see if we could give many, many, many people the chance to be listened to in this way. So in Grand Central Terminal 11 years ago, we built a booth where anyone can come to honor someone else by interviewing them about their life. You come to this booth and you're met by a facilitator who brings you inside. You sit across from, say, your grandfather for close to an hour and you listen and you talk. Many people think of it as, if this was to be our last conversation, what would I want to ask of and say to this person who means so much to me? At the end of the session, you walk away with a copy of the interview and another copy goes to the American Folklife Center at the Library of Congress so that your great-great-great-grandkids can someday get to know your grandfather through his voice and story.
Na mnogo načina, "ja postojim" je postalo poziv na akciju za Storikorps, tu ludu ideju koju sam imao pre desetinu godina. Zamisao je bila uzeti rad na dokumentarcima i izvrnuti ga naopačke. Tradicionalno, emitovani dokumentarci su podrazumevali snimanje intervjua da bi se stvorilo umetničko delo, zabavno ili edukativno delo koje će videti ili čuti veoma mnogo ljudi, ali ja sam želeo da probam nešto gde je intervju sam po sebi svrha tog dela, i da vidim da li možemo pružiti šansu znatnom broju ljudi da na taj način budu saslušani. Tako smo pre 11 godina u Grand Central Terminalu napravili kabinu gde bilo ko može doći da oda priznanje nekom drugom intervjuišući ga o njegovom životu. Kada dođete u tu kabinu, srećete facilitatora koji vas uvodi unutra. Sedite naspram, recimo, vašeg dede blizu jednog sata i slušate i govorite. Mnogi razmišljaju o tome na ovaj način: kada bi ovo bio naš poslednji razgovor, šta bih želeo da pitam i kažem ovoj osobi koja mi toliko znači? Po završetku ove sesije, izlazite sa kopijom intervjua a druga kopija odlazi centru "American Folklife" u Kongresnoj biblioteci kako bi vaši čukun-čukun-čukununuci mogli da jednog dana upoznaju vašeg dedu kroz njegov glas i priču.
So we open this booth in one of the busiest places in the world and invite people to have this incredibly intimate conversation with another human being. I had no idea if it would work, but from the very beginning, it did. People treated the experience with incredible respect, and amazing conversations happened inside.
Tako smo otvorili ovu kabinu na jednom od najprometnijih mesta na svetu i pozvali ljude da obave ovaj neverovatno intimni razgvor sa drugim ljudskim bićem. Nisam imao pojma da li će uspeti, ali jeste i to od samog početka. Ljudi su imali izuzetno poštovanje prema ovom iskustvu, i unutra su se odvijali neverovatni razgovori.
I want to play just one animated excerpt from an interview recorded at that original Grand Central Booth. This is 12-year-old Joshua Littman interviewing his mother, Sarah. Josh has Asperger's syndrome. As you may know, kids with Asperger's are incredibly smart but have a tough time socially. They usually have obsessions. In Josh's case, it's with animals, so this is Josh talking with his mom Sarah at Grand Central nine years ago.
Želim da vam pustim jedan animirani odlomak iz intervjua snimljenog u toj originalnoj Grand Central kabini. Ovo je 12-ogodišnji Džošua Litman koji intervjuiše svoju majku Saru. Džoš ima Aspergerov sindrom. Kao što možda znate, deca sa Aspergerom su izuzetno pametna ali imaju teškoća na društvenom planu. Obično imaju opsesije. U Džošovom slučaju, one su bile vezane za životinje, i evo Džoša kako priča sa svojom mamom Sarom U Grand Centralu pre devet godina.
(Video) Josh Littman: From a scale of one to 10, do you think your life would be different without animals? Sarah Littman: I think it would be an eight without animals, because they add so much pleasure to life.
(Video) Džoš Litman: Na skali od jedan do 10, da li misliš da bi tvoj život bio drugačiji bez životinja? Sara Litman: Mislim da bi to bila osmica bez životinja, jer one dodaju toliko zadovoljstva životu.
JL: How else do you think your life would be different without them?
DžL: Kako još misliš da bi tvoj život bio drugačiji bez njih?
SL: I could do without things like cockroaches and snakes.
SL: Mogla bih da živim bez nekih kao što su bubašvabe i zmije.
JL: Well, I'm okay with snakes as long as they're not venomous or constrict you or anything.
DžL: Pa, ja sam okej sa zmijama ako nisu otrovnice ili udavi ili tako nešto.
SL: Yeah, I'm not a big snake person --
SL: Da, ja nisam veliki obožavatelj zmija -
JL: But cockroach is just the insect we love to hate.
DžL: Ali bubašvaba je baš insekt kojeg volimo da mrzimo.
SL: Yeah, it really is.
SL: Da, stvarno jeste.
JL: Have you ever thought you couldn't cope with having a child?
DžL: Da li si ikada pomislila da se nećeš snaći sa svojim detetom?
SL: I remember when you were a baby, you had really bad colic, so you would just cry and cry.
SL: Sećam se kad si bio beba, imao si stvarno teške kolike, pa si samo plakao i plakao.
JL: What's colic? SL: It's when you get this stomach ache and all you do is scream for, like, four hours.
DžL: Šta je kolika? SL: To je kada dobiješ bolove u stomaku i samo vrištiš, recimo, četiri sata.
JL: Even louder than Amy does?
DžL: Čak i glasnije od Ejmi?
SL: You were pretty loud, but Amy's was more high-pitched.
SL: Ti si bio prilično glasan, ali Ejmi je bila piskavija.
JL: I think it feels like everyone seems to like Amy more, like she's the perfect little angel.
DžL: Meni se čini kao da svi više vole Ejmi, kao da je ona savršeni mali anđeo.
SL: Well, I can understand why you think that people like Amy more, and I'm not saying it's because of your Asperger's syndrome, but being friendly comes easily to Amy, whereas I think for you it's more difficult, but the people who take the time to get to know you love you so much.
SL: Pa, mogu da razumem zašto misliš da ljudi više vole Ejmi, a ne kažem da je to zbog tvog Aspergerovog sindroma, već zato što je za Ejmi lakše da bude druželjubiva, dok je to tebi teže, ali ljudi koji izdvoje vreme da te upoznaju, mnogo te vole.
JL: Like Ben or Eric or Carlos? SL: Yeah --
DžL: Kao Ben ili Erik ili Karlos? SL: Da -
JL: Like I have better quality friends but less quantity? (Laughter)
DžL: Znači ja imam bolji kvalitet prijatelja ali manji kvantitet? (Smeh)
SL: I wouldn't judge the quality, but I think -- JL: I mean, first it was like, Amy loved Claudia, then she hated Claudia, she loved Claudia, then she hated Claudia.
SL: Ne bih da sudim o kvalitetu, ali mislim - DžL: Mislim, Ejmi je prvo volela Klaudiju, onda je mrzela Klaudiju, pa je volela Klaudiju, pa je mrzela Klaudiju.
SL: Part of that's a girl thing, honey. The important thing for you is that you have a few very good friends, and really that's what you need in life.
SL: To su bile neke ženske stvari, dušo. Za tebe je važno da imaš nekoliko veoma dobrih prijatelja, i to je zapravo ono šta ti treba u životu.
JL: Did I turn out to be the son you wanted when I was born? Did I meet your expectations?
DžL: Da li sam ispao sin koga si želela kada sam se rodio? Da li sam ispunio tvoja očekivanja?
SL: You've exceeded my expectations, sweetie, because, sure, you have these fantasies of what your child's going to be like, but you have made me grow so much as a parent, because you think --
SL: Premašio si moja očekivanja, dušo, jer, istina, imamo fantazije o tome kakvo će nam dete biti, ali zbog tebe sam se toliko razvila kao roditelj, jer ti razmišljaš -
JL: Well, I was the one who made you a parent.
DžL: Pa, ja sam te učinio roditeljem.
SL: You were the one who made me a parent. That's a good point. (Laughter) But also because you think differently from what they tell you in the parenting books, I really had to learn to think outside of the box with you, and it's made me much more creative as a parent and as a person, and I'll always thank you for that.
SL: Ti si me učinio roditeljem. Dobro rečeno. (Smeh) Ali i zato što ti razmišljaš drugačije od onoga što se opisuje u knjigama o roditeljstvu, zaista sam morala da naučim da razmišljam nekonvencionalno, i to me je učinilo mnogo kreativnijom kao roditelja i kao ličnost, i zbog toga ću ti uvek biti zahvalna.
JL: And that helped when Amy was born?
DžL: A to je pomoglo kad se Ejmi rodila?
SL: And that helped when Amy was born, but you are so incredibly special to me and I'm so lucky to have you as my son. (Applause)
SL: A to je pomoglo kad se Ejmi rodila, ali ti si za mene izuzetno poseban i toliko sam srećna što si moj sin. (Aplauz)
David Isay: After this story ran on public radio, Josh received hundreds of letters telling him what an amazing kid he was. His mom, Sarah, bound them together in a book, and when Josh got picked on at school, they would read the letters together. I just want to acknowledge that two of my heroes are here with us tonight. Sarah Littman and her son Josh, who is now an honors student in college. (Applause)
Dejvid Isaj: Nakon što je ova priča javno emitovana na radiju, Džoš je primio stotine pisama u kojima su mu govorili kako je on neverovatno dete. Njegova mama Sara ih je povezala u knjigu, i kada bi Džoša zadirkivali u školi, oni bi zajedno čitali pisma. Samo želim da podelim da su moja dva heroja ovde večeras sa nama. Sara Litman i njen sin Džoš, koji je sada počasni student na koledžu. (Aplauz)
You know, a lot of people talk about crying when they hear StoryCorps stories, and it's not because they're sad. Most of them aren't. I think it's because you're hearing something authentic and pure at this moment, when sometimes it's hard to tell what's real and what's an advertisement. It's kind of the anti-reality TV. Nobody comes to StoryCorps to get rich. Nobody comes to get famous. It's simply an act of generosity and love. So many of these are just everyday people talking about lives lived with kindness, courage, decency and dignity, and when you hear that kind of story, it can sometimes feel like you're walking on holy ground. So this experiment in Grand Central worked,
Znate, mnogi govore o plakanju kada čuju Storikorps priče, a to nije zbog toga što su tužne. Većina njih nije. Mislim da je to zato što čuju nešto autentično i čisto u ovo vreme, kada je ponekad teško reći šta je stvarno, a šta je reklama. To je neka vrsta anti-rialiti televizije. Niko ne dolazi u Storikorps da se obogati. Niko ne dolazi da se proslavi. To je jednostavno čin velikodušnosti i ljubavi. Mnogi od njih su samo obični ljudi koji govore o životima proživljenim sa dobrotom, hrabrošću, pristojnošću i dostojanstvom, i kada čujete takvu priču, nekad se može činiti kao da hodate po svetom tlu. Dakle, ovaj eksperiment u Grand Centralu je uspeo,
and we expanded across the country. Today, more than 100,000 people in all 50 states in thousands of cities and towns across America have recorded StoryCorps interviews. It's now the largest single collection of human voices ever gathered. (Applause)
i proširili smo se po celoj zemlji. Danas, više od 100 000 ljudi u svih 50 država u hiljadama gradova i gradića širom Amerike snimilo je Storikorps intervjue. To je sada najveća ikada sakupljena kolekcija ljudskih glasova. (Aplauz)
We've hired and trained hundreds of facilitators to help guide people through the experience. Most serve a year or two with StoryCorps traveling the country, gathering the wisdom of humanity. They call it bearing witness, and if you ask them, all of the facilitators will tell you that the most important thing they've learned from being present during these interviews is that people are basically good. And I think for the first years of StoryCorps, you could argue that there was some kind of a selection bias happening, but after tens of thousands of interviews with every kind of person in every part of the country -- rich, poor, five years old to 105, 80 different languages, across the political spectrum -- you have to think that maybe these guys are actually onto something.
Angažovali smo i obučili stotine facilitatora kako bi pomogli u vođenju ljudi kroz ovo iskustvo. Većina njih radi za Storikorps godinu ili dve putujući zemljom, prikupljajući mudrost čovečanstva. Oni to zovu svedočenjem, i ako ih pitate, svi facilitatori će vam reći da je najvažnija stvar koju su naučili prisustvujući ovim intervjuima ta da su ljudi u suštini dobri. Mislim da biste za prvih nekoliko godina Storikorpsa mogli pomisliti da se tu dešava nekakva pristrasnost u odabiru, ali nakon desetina hiljada intervjua sa svakojakim osobama u svakom delu zemlje - bogatima, siromašnima, uzrasta od pet do 105 godina, na 80 različitih jezika, kroz ceo politički sprektrum - morate pomisliti da su možda ovi ljudi zaista na tragu nečega.
I've also learned so much from these interviews. I've learned about the poetry and the wisdom and the grace that can be found in the words of people all around us when we simply take the time to listen, like this interview between a betting clerk in Brooklyn named Danny Perasa who brought his wife Annie to StoryCorps to talk about his love for her.
Takođe sam i toliko toga naučio iz ovih intervjua. Naučio sam o poeziji, mudrosti i gracioznosti koji se mogu naći u rečima ljudi oko nas kada samo izdvojimo vreme da ih slušamo, kao u ovom intervjuu između službenika kladionice u Bruklinu po imenu Deni Perasa koji je doveo svoju ženu Eni u Storikorps da bi govorio o svojoj ljubavi prema njoj.
(Audio) Danny Perasa: You see, the thing of it is, I always feel guilty when I say "I love you" to you. And I say it so often. I say it to remind you that as dumpy as I am, it's coming from me. It's like hearing a beautiful song from a busted old radio, and it's nice of you to keep the radio around the house.
(Audio) Deni Perasa: Vidiš, stvar je u tome što uvek osećam krivicu kada ti kažem "volim te". A govorim to tako često, govorim ti to da bih te podsetio da koliko god da sam nezgrapan, to dolazi od mene. To je kao da čujete prelepu pesmu sa razbucanog starog radija, i lepo je od vas što čuvate taj radio u kući.
Annie Perasa: If I don't have a note on the kitchen table, I think there's something wrong. You write a love letter to me every morning. DP: Well, the only thing that could possibly be wrong is I couldn't find a silly pen.
Eni Perasa: Ako nema poruke za mene na kuhinjskom stolu, pomislim da nešto nije u redu. Pišeš mi ljubavna pisma svakog jutra. DP: Pa, jedina stvar koja bi mogla da pođe po zlu bilo bi to da ne mogu da nađem glupu olovku.
AP: To my princess: The weather outside today is extremely rainy. I'll call you at 11:20 in the morning.
EP: Mojoj princezi: Danas je vreme napolju izuzetno kišovito. Zvaću te u 11:20 ujutru.
DP: It's a romantic weather report.
DP: To je romantična vremenska prognoza.
AP: And I love you. I love you. I love you.
EP: I volim te. Volim te. Volim te.
DP: When a guy is happily married, no matter what happens at work, no matter what happens in the rest of the day, there's a shelter when you get home, there's a knowledge knowing that you can hug somebody without them throwing you downstairs and saying, "Get your hands off me." Being married is like having a color television set. You never want to go back to black and white. (Laughter)
DP: Kada je čovek srećno oženjen, šta god da se desi na poslu, šta god da se dogodi tokom ostatka dana, uvek postoji utočište kada dođe kući, postoji ta svest o tome da znate da možete zagrliti nekoga a da vas ta osoba neće odgurnuti i reći: "Sklanjaj ruke s mene." Biti u braku je kao da imate televizor u boji. Ne želite da se ikada više vratite na crno-beli. (Smeh)
DI: Danny was about five feet tall with crossed eyes and one single snaggletooth, but Danny Perasa had more romance in his little pinky than all of Hollywood's leading men put together.
DI: Deni je visok oko metar i po sa ukrštenim očima i izbačenim zubom, ali Deni Perasa ima više romantike u svom malom prstu nego svi glavni muškarci Holivuda zajedno.
What else have I learned? I've learned about the almost unimaginable capacity for the human spirit to forgive. I've learned about resilience and I've learned about strength.
Šta sam još naučio? Naučio sam o gotovo nezamislivom kapacitetu ljudskog duha da oprosti. Naučio sam o otpornosti i o snazi.
Like an interview with Oshea Israel and Mary Johnson. When Oshea was a teenager, he murdered Mary's only son, Laramiun Byrd, in a gang fight. A dozen years later, Mary went to prison to meet Oshea and find out who this person was who had taken her son's life. Slowly and remarkably, they became friends, and when he was finally released from the penitentiary, Oshea actually moved in next door to Mary. This is just a short excerpt of a conversation they had soon after Oshea was freed.
Kao u intervjuu sa Ošeom Izrael i Meri Džonson. Kada je Ošej bio tinejdžer, ubio je Merinog sina jedinca, Laramiuna Birda, u okršaju bandi. Desetak godina kasnije, Meri je otišla u zatvor da upozna Ošea i otkrije ko je ta osoba koja je oduzela život njenom sinu. Polako i izvanredno, postali su prijatelji, a kada je on konačno pušten iz zatvora, Ošej se doselio u kuću do Meri. Ovo je samo kraći odlomak razgovora koji su vodili ubrzo nakon što je Ošej oslobođen.
(Video) Mary Johnson: My natural son is no longer here. I didn't see him graduate, and now you're going to college. I'll have the opportunity to see you graduate. I didn't see him get married. Hopefully one day, I'll be able to experience that with you. Oshea Israel: Just to hear you say those things and to be in my life in the manner in which you are is my motivation. It motivates me to make sure that I stay on the right path. You still believe in me, and the fact that you can do it despite how much pain I caused you, it's amazing.
(Audio) Meri Džonson: Moj biološki sin više nije ovde. Nisam ga videla kako diplomira, a sada ti ideš na fakultet. Imaću priliku da vidim tebe kako diplomiraš. Nisam ga videla kako se ženi. Nadam se da ću jednoga dana to moći da doživim sa tobom. Ošej Izrael: Samo kada te čujem kako govoriš te stvari i kada si na takav način prisutna u mom životu, to me motiviše. Motiviše me da se potrudim da ostanem na pravom putu. Još uvek veruješ u mene, a činjenica da to možeš uprkos bolu koji sam ti izazvao, to je neverovatno.
MJ: I know it's not an easy thing to be able to share our story together, even with us sitting here looking at each other right now. I know it's not an easy thing, so I admire that you can do this.
MDž: Znam da nije laka stvar to što možemo da zajedno podelimo našu priču, čak i dok sada sedimo ovde i gledamo jedno drugo. Znam da to nije lako, zato ti se divim što ovo možeš.
OI: I love you, lady. MJ: I love you too, son. (Applause)
OI: Volim te, gospođo. MDž: I ja tebe volim, sine. (Aplauz)
DI: And I've been reminded countless times of the courage and goodness of people, and how the arc of history truly does bend towards justice.
DI: I bezbroj puta sam se podsetio hrabrosti i dobrote ljudi i kako se svod istorije zaista savija ka pravdi.
Like the story of Alexis Martinez, who was born Arthur Martinez in the Harold Ickes projects in Chicago. In the interview, she talks with her daughter Lesley about joining a gang as a young man, and later in life transitioning into the woman she was always meant to be. This is Alexis and her daughter Lesley.
Kao u priči Aleksise Martinez, koja je rođena kao Artur Martinez, u naselju Herold Ikis u Čikagu. U intervjuu, ona priča sa svojom ćerkom Lesli o priključivanju bandi kada je bila mladić, i kasnije u životu, o prelaženju u ženu, što je oduvek trebalo da bude. Ovo su Aleksis i njena ćerka Lesli.
(Audio) Alexis Martinez: One of the most difficult things for me was I was always afraid that I wouldn't be allowed to be in my granddaughters' lives, and you blew that completely out of the water, you and your husband. One of the fruits of that is, in my relationship with my granddaughters, they fight with each other sometimes over whether I'm he or she.
(Audio) Aleksis Martinez: Jedna od najtežih stvari za mene je bila to što sam uvek bila uplašena da mi neće biti dopušteno da budem deo života mojih unuka, a vi ste to uklonili u potpunosti, ti i tvoj muž. Jedan od plodova toga je moj odnos sa unukama. Ponekad se svađajaju oko toga da li sam on ili ona.
Lesley Martinez: But they're free to talk about it.
Lesli Martinez: Ali su slobodne da pričaju o tome.
AM: They're free to talk about it, but that, to me, is a miracle.
AM: Slobodne su da pričaju o tome, ali to je čudo za mene.
LM: You don't have to apologize. You don't have to tiptoe. We're not going to cut you off, and that's something I've always wanted you to just know, that you're loved.
LM: Ne moraš da se izvinjavaš. Ne moraš da ideš na prstima. Nećemo te odbaciti, i to je nešto što sam uvek želela da znaš, da te volimo.
AM: You know, I live this every day now. I walk down the streets as a woman, and I really am at peace with who I am. I mean, I wish I had a softer voice maybe, but now I walk in love and I try to live that way every day.
AM: Znaš, živim svaki dan sa ovim. Šetam ulicama kao žena i zaista sam u miru sa tim ko sam. Mislim, volela bih možda da imam mekši glas, ali sada šetam u ljubavi i nastojim da živim tako svakog dana.
DI: Now I walk in love.
DI: Sada šetam u ljubavi.
I'm going to tell you a secret about StoryCorps. It takes some courage to have these conversations. StoryCorps speaks to our mortality. Participants know this recording will be heard long after they're gone. There's a hospice doctor named Ira Byock who has worked closely with us on recording interviews with people who are dying. He wrote a book called "The Four Things That Matter Most" about the four things you want to say to the most important people in your life before they or you die: thank you, I love you, forgive me, I forgive you. They're just about the most powerful words we can say to one another, and often that's what happens in a StoryCorps booth. It's a chance to have a sense of closure with someone you care about -- no regrets, nothing left unsaid. And it's hard and it takes courage, but that's why we're alive, right?
Reći ću vam tajnu o Storikorpsu. Treba hrabrosti za ove razgovore. Storikorps se obraća našoj smrtnosti. Učesnici znaju da će se ovaj snimak slušati dugo nakon što njih ne bude bilo. Postoji doktor staračkog doma po imenu Ajra Bajok koji je sarađivao sa nama na snimanju intervjua sa ljudima koji umiru. Napisao je knjigu pod nazivom "Četiri stvari koje su najbitnije" o četiri stvari koje želite da kažete najvažnijim ljudima u vašem životu pre nego što oni ili vi umrete: hvala, volim te, oprosti mi, opraštam ti. To su takoreći najsnažnije reči koje možemo reći jedni drugima, a to je često ono što se događa u kabini Storikorpa. To je prilika da imate osećaj završnice sa nekim do koga vam je stalo - bez kajanja, bez neizgovorenih reči. A to je teško i za to je potrebna hrabrost, ali zbog toga živimo, zar ne?
So, the TED Prize. When I first heard from TED and Chris a few months ago about the possibility of the Prize, I was completely floored. They asked me to come up with a very brief wish for humanity, no more than 50 words. So I thought about it, I wrote my 50 words, and a few weeks later, Chris called and said, "Go for it."
Dakle, TED nagrada. Kada sam se prvi put čuo sa TEDom i Krisom pre nekoliko meseci u vezi sa mogućnošću za nagradu, bio sam potpuno oboren s nogu. Zatražili su mi da smislim vrlo kratku želju za čovečanstvo, ne više od 50 reči. Razmislio sam o tome, napisao 50 reči, i nekoliko nedelja kasnije, Kris je nazvao i rekao: "Samo napred."
So here is my wish: that you will help us take everything we've learned through StoryCorps and bring it to the world so that anyone anywhere can easily record a meaningful interview with another human being which will then be archived for history.
I evo moje želje: da ćete nam pomoći da uzmemo sve što smo naučili kroz Storikorps i donesemo to svetu tako da bilo ko bilo gde može lako snimiti značajan intervju sa drugom osobom koji će zatim biti arhiviran za istoriju.
How are we going to do that? With this. We're fast moving into a future where everyone in the world will have access to one of these, and it has powers I never could have imagined 11 years ago when I started StoryCorps. It has a microphone, it can tell you how to do things, and it can send audio files. Those are the key ingredients.
Kako ćemo to učiniti? Ovim. Ubrzano se krećemo ka budućnosti u kojoj će svi na svetu imati pristup ovome, a to ima moći koje ja nikad nisam mogao ni da zamislim pre 11 godina kada sam osnovao Storikorps. Ima mikrofon, može da vam kaže kako da obavite neke stvari, može da šalje audio fajlove. To su ključni sastojci.
So the first part of the wish is already underway. Over the past couple of months, the team at StoryCorps has been working furiously to create an app that will bring StoryCorps out of our booths so that it can be experienced by anyone, anywhere, anytime. Remember, StoryCorps has always been two people and a facilitator helping them record their conversation, which is preserved forever, but at this very moment, we're releasing a public beta version of the StoryCorps app. The app is a digital facilitator that walks you through the StoryCorps interview process, helps you pick questions, and gives you all the tips you need to record a meaningful StoryCorps interview, and then with one tap upload it to our archive at the Library of Congress.
Dakle prvi deo želje je već u toku. Tokom proteklih par meseci, tim Storikorpsa užurbano radi na stvaranju aplikacije koja će izneti Storikorps iz naših kabina tako da ga može doživeti bilo ko, bilo gde, bilo kada. Setite se, Storikorps je uvek bio između dvoje ljudi i facilitatora koji im pomaže da snime razgovor, koji je sačuvan zauvek, ali u ovom trenutku, puštamo javnu beta verziju Storikorps aplikacije. Aplikacija je digitalni facilitator koji vas vodi kroz Storikorps proces intervjuisanja, pomaže vam da odaberete pitanja, daje vam sve savete koji su vam potrebni da snimite značajan Storikorps intervju, i zatim ga jednim dodirom pošaljete našoj arhivi u Kongresnoj biblioteci.
That's the easy part, the technology. The real challenge is up to you: to take this tool and figure out how we can use it all across America and around the world, so that instead of recording thousands of StoryCorps interviews a year, we could potentially record tens of thousands or hundreds of thousands or maybe even more.
To je lak deo, tehnologija. Pravi izazov je na vama: da uzmete ovu alatku i otkrijete kako je možemo upotrebiti širom Amerike i širom sveta, tako da umesto da snimamo hiljade Storikorps intervjua godišnje, mogli bismo eventualno snimiti desetine hiljada ili stotine hiljada ili možda čak i više.
Imagine, for example, a national homework assignment where every high school student studying U.S. history across the country records an interview with an elder over Thanksgiving, so that in one single weekend an entire generation of American lives and experiences are captured. (Applause) Or imagine mothers on opposite sides of a conflict somewhere in the world sitting down not to talk about that conflict but to find out who they are as people, and in doing so, begin to build bonds of trust; or that someday it becomes a tradition all over the world that people are honored with a StoryCorps interview on their 75th birthday; or that people in your community go into retirement homes or hospitals or homeless shelters or even prisons armed with this app to honor the people least heard in our society and ask them who they are, what they've learned in life, and how they want to be remembered. (Applause)
Zamislite, na primer, nacionalni domaći zadatak u kome bi svaki srednjoškolac širom zemlje koji izučava istoriju SAD-a snimio intervju sa starijom osobom na Dan zahvalnosti, tako da bi za samo jedan vikend bila zabeležena čitava generacija američkih života i iskustava. (Aplauz) Ili zamislite majke na suprotstavljenim stranama konflikta negde na svetu kako sede, ne da bi pričale o tom kofliktu već da bi otkrile ko su one kao ljudi, i time počele da grade veze poverenja; ili da jednog dana postane tradicija širom sveta da ljudima bude iskazana počast Storikorps intervjuom na njihov 75. rođendan; ili da ljudi u vašoj zajednici odlaze u staračke domove ili bolnice ili skloništa beskućnika ili čak zatvore naoružani ovom aplikacijom da odaju priznanje ljudima koji su se najmanje čuli u ovom društvu i pitaju ih ko su oni, šta su naučili u životu, i kako žele da budu upamćeni. (Aplauz)
Ten years ago, I recorded a StoryCorps interview with my dad who was a psychiatrist, and became a well-known gay activist. This is the picture of us at that interview. I never thought about that recording until a couple of years ago, when my dad, who seemed to be in perfect health and was still seeing patients 40 hours a week, was diagnosed with cancer. He passed away very suddenly a few days later. It was June 28, 2012, the anniversary of the Stonewall riots.
Pre deset godina, snimio sam Storikorps intervju sa svojim tatom koji je bio psihijatar i postao poznati gej aktivista. Ovo je naša slika na tom intervjuu. Nikada nisam razmišljao o tom snimku do pre nekoliko godina, kada je mom tati, koji je izgledao kao da je savršenog zdravlja i još uvek je viđao pacijente 40 sati nedeljno, dijagnostikovan rak. Preminuo je vrlo iznenadno nekoliko dana kasnije. Bio je 28 jun 2012. godine, godišnjica Stounvolske pobune.
I listened to that interview for the first time at three in the morning on the day that he died. I have a couple of young kids at home, and I knew that the only way they were going to get to know this person who was such a towering figure in my life would be through that session. I thought I couldn't believe in StoryCorps any more deeply than I did, but it was at that moment that I fully and viscerally grasped the importance of making these recordings.
Slušao sam taj intervju prvi put u tri ujutru dana kada je umro. Imam par dece kod kuće, i znao sam da će jedini način na koji će oni upoznati ovu osobu, koja je bila tako istaknuta figura u mom životu, biti kroz ovu sesiju. Mislio sam da ne mogu da verujem u Storikorps dublje nego što jesam, ali u tom trenutku sam potpuno i celim telom pojmio značaj pravljenja ovih snimaka.
Every day, people come up to me and say, "I wish I had interviewed my father or my grandmother or my brother, but I waited too long." Now, no one has to wait anymore. At this moment, when so much of how we communicate is fleeting and inconsequential, join us in creating this digital archive of conversations that are enduring and important. Help us create this gift to our children, this testament to who we are as human beings. I hope you'll help us make this wish come true. Interview a family member, a friend or even a stranger. Together, we can create an archive of the wisdom of humanity, and maybe in doing so, we'll learn to listen a little more and shout a little less. Maybe these conversations will remind us what's really important. And maybe, just maybe, it will help us recognize that simple truth that every life, every single life, matters equally and infinitely. Thank you very much. (Applause) Thank you. Thank you. (Applause) Thank you. (Applause)
Svakoga dana, ljudi mi prilaze i govore: "Voleo bih da sam intervjuisao svog oca ili baku ili brata, ali sam čekao predugo. Niko više ne mora da čeka. U ovom trenutku, kada je toliko toga u načinu naše komunikacije prolazno i nevažno, pridružite nam se u stvaranju ovog digitalnog arhiva razgovora koji su trajni i važni. Pomozite nam da napravimo ovaj poklon za našu decu, ovo svedočanstvo onoga što jesmo kao ljudska bića. Nadam se da ćete nam pomoći da ostvarimo ovu želju. Intervjuišite člana porodice, prijatelja ili čak i nekog nepoznatog. Zajedno možemo stvoriti arhiv mudrosti čovečanstva, i možda ćemo time naučiti da malo više slušamo, a malo manje vičemo. Možda će nas ovi razgovori podsetiti na to šta je zaista važno. I možda, samo možda, će nam pomoći da prepoznamo tu jednostavnu istinu da svaki život, svi do jednog, znače podjednako i beskrajno. Hvala vam mnogo. (Aplauz) Hvala. Hvala. (Aplauz) Hvala. (Aplauz)