Big boys don't cry. Suck it up. Shut up and rub some dirt on it. Stop crying before I give you something to cry about. These are just a few of the phrases that contribute to a disease in our society, and more specifically, in our men. It's a disease that has come to be known as "toxic masculinity." It's one I suffered a chronic case of, so much so that I spent 24 years of a life sentence in prison for kidnapping, robbery, and attempted murder.
Wavulana wakubwa hawalii. Imezee. Kaa kimya na ufutie vumbi juu yake. Acha kulia kabla sijakupa kitu cha kulilia. Hizi ni baadhi tu ya vishazi vinavyochangia kwenye ugonjwa ndani ya jamii yetu, na hasa zaidi, kwa wanaume wetu. Ni ugonjwa uliokuja kujulikana kama "sumu ya uwanaume." Ni moja niliyoteseka kwa kesi sugu, kiasi kwamba nilitumia miaka 24 ya kifungo cha maisha gerezani kwa utekaji nyara, wizi, na jaribio la mauaji.
Yet I'm here to tell you today that there's a solution for this epidemic. I know for a fact the solution works, because I was a part of human trials. The solution is a mixture of elements. It begins with the willingness to look at your belief system and how out of alignment it is and how your actions negatively impact not just yourself, but the people around you. The next ingredient is the willingness to be vulnerable with people who would not just support you, but hold you accountable.
Bado nipo hapa kuwaambia leo kuwa kuna suluhisho la hili janga. Najua suluhisho linafanya kazi kwa sababu nilikua kwenye majaribio ya binadamu. Suluhisho ni mchanganyiko wa mambo. Inaanza na nia ya kuangalia mfumo wa imani yako na jinsi imetoka nje ya mpangilio na jinsi matendo yako yana athari za hasi sio tu kwako, na pia watu wanaokuzunguka. Sehemu inayofuata ni nia ya kukabiliwa na watu ambao hawatakusaidia tu, bali watakufanya uwajibike.
But before I tell you about this, I need to let you know that in order to share this, I have to bare my soul in full. And as I stand here, with so many eyes fixed on me, I feel raw and naked. When this feeling is present, I'm confident that the next phase of healing is on the horizon, and that allows me to share my story in full.
Ila kabla sijakuambia kuhusu hili, Ninahitaji kukujulisha kua ili niwashirikishe hili, ninatakiwa kufunua roho yangu kikamilifu. Na ninaposimama hapa, na macho mengi yakiniangalia, najisikia mbichi na mtupu. Pale hisia hii inapokuwepo, ninajiamini kua hatua ijayo ya uponyaji inawadia, na inaniruhusu kushirikisha hadithi kikamilifu.
For all appearances' sake, I was born into the ideal family dynamic: mother, father, sister, brother. Bertha, Eldra Jr., Taydama and Eldra III. That's me. My father was a Vietnam veteran who earned a Purple Heart and made it home to find love, marry, and begin his own brood. So how did I wind up serving life in the California prison system? Keeping secrets, believing the mantra that big boys don't cry, not knowing how to display any emotion confidently other than anger, participating in athletics and learning that the greater the performance on the field, the less the need to worry about the rules off it. It's hard to pin down any one specific ingredient of the many symptoms that ailed me.
Kwa ajili ya muonekano wote, nilizaliwa kwenye familia ya hali bora: mama, baba, dada, kaka. Bertha, Eldra mdogo, Taydama na Eldra wa tatu. Huyo ni mimi. Baba yangu alikua mwanajeshi wa Vietnam mwenye Moyo wa Zambarau na kurudi nyumbani kupata upendo, kuoa, na kuanzisha kizazi chake. Sasa niliishiaje kutumikia maisha kwenye gereza la California? Kutunza siri, kuamini mantra kua wavulana wakubwa hawalii, kutokujua jinsi ya kuonyesha hisia yoyote kwa ujasiri zaidi ya hasira, kushiriki kwenye riadha na kujifunza kua ukubwa wa utendaji uwanjani, udogo wa hitaji la kua na wasiwasi juu ya kanuni zake. Ni ngumu kuwekea msumari sehemu moja maalumu ya dalili nyingi zilizoniuguza.
Growing up as a young black male in Sacramento, California in the 1980s, there were two groups I identified as having respect: athletes and gangsters. I excelled in sports, that is until a friend and I chose to take his mom's car for a joyride and wreck it. With my parents having to split the cost of a totaled vehicle, I was relegated to a summer of household chores and no sports. No sports meant no respect. No respect equaled no power. Power was vital to feed my illness. It was at that point the decision to transition from athlete to gangster was made and done so easily. Early life experiences had set the stage for me to be well-suited to objectify others, act in a socially detached manner, and above all else, seek to be viewed as in a position of power. A sense of power
Nikikua kama kijana mweusi wa kiume Sacramento, California miaka ya 1980. kulikua na makundi mawili niliyoyatambua kua na heshima: wanamichezo na majambazi. Nilishinda kwenye michezo, mpaka rafiki yangu alipouchukua gari la mama yake na kuliendesha na kuliharibu. Na wazazi wangu wakigawanya gharama za gari lililoharibika, nilitelekezwa kwenye likizo ya kazi za nyumbani na bila michezo. Bila michezo ilimaanisha bila heshima. Bila heshima ni sawa na bila nguvu. Nguvu ilikua muhimu kulisha ugonjwa wangu. Ilikua kwenye hatua hiyo uamuzi wa kubadilika kutoka mwanamichezo kuwa jambazi ulifanywa na kukamilika kirahisi sana. Uzoefu wa maisha wa mapema uliweka jukwaa kwa mimi kufaa sana kushusha hadhi za wengine, kuwa na tabia inayojitenga kijamii, na zaidi ya yote, kutafuta kuonekana kwenye sehemu ya nguvu. Hisia ya nguvu
(Sighs)
(Akiguna)
equaled strength in my environment, but more importantly, it did so in my mind. My mind dictated my choices.
nguvu sawa kwenye mazingira yangu, muhimu zaidi, ilifanya hivyo kweye akili yangu. Akili yangu iliamuru maamuzi yangu.
My subsequent choices put me on the fast track to prison life. And even once in prison, I continued my history of running over the rights of others, even knowing that that was the place that I would die. Once again, I wound up in solitary confinement for stabbing another prisoner nearly 30 times. I'd gotten to a place where I didn't care how I lived or if I died.
Maamuzi ya baadae yaliniweka kwenye njia ya haraka ya maisha gerezani. Na hata nilivyokuwa gerezani, niliendelea na historia yangu ya kuponda haki za wengine, hata kujua kua hiyo ni sehemu ambayo ningeweza kufa. Mara nyingine, nikaishia kwenye kifungo cha upweke kwa kumchoma mfungwa mwingine karibia mara 30. Nilifikia sehemu ambapo sikujali jinsi nilivyoishi au kama ningekufa.
But then, things changed. One of the best things that happened in my life to that point was being sent to New Folsom Prison. Once there, I was approached to join a group called Inside Circle. Initially, I was hesitant to join a group referred to around the yard as "hug-a-thug."
Lakini, vitu vikabadilika. Moja ya vitu bora vilivyotokea kwa hatua hiyo ya maisha yangu ilikuwa kupelekwa kwenye gereza la New Folsom. Nilipokua pale, nilifatwa kujiunga kikundi kiitwacho Duara la Ndani. Mwanzoni nilisita kujiunga na kundi linalojulikana maeneno ya uga kama "mkumbatie-mhuni."
(Laughter)
(Kicheko)
Initially, yeah, that was a little much, but eventually, I overcame my hesitancy. As it turned out, the circle was the vision of a man named Patrick Nolan, who was also serving life and who had grown sick and tired of being sick and tired of watching us kill one another over skin color, rag color, being from Northern or Southern California, or just plain breathing in the wrong direction on a windy day.
Mwanzoni, kweli, ilikuwa imezidi kidogo, lakini hatimaye, nikashinda usitaji wangu. Kama ilivyoonekana, duara lilikuwa ndoto ya mtu mmoja aitwae Patrick Nolan, ambae pia alikuwa anatumikia maisha na ambae alikuwa amechoshwa na kuchoka kutuona sisi tukiuana wenyewe juu ya rangi ya ngozi, rangi ya tambara, kutokea Kaskazini au Kusini mwa California, au tu kuhema kwa wazi kwenye muelekeo mbaya siku yenye upepo.
Circle time is men sitting with men and cutting through the bullshit, challenging structural ways of thinking. I think the way that I think and I act the way that I act because I hadn't questioned that. Like, who said I should see a woman walking down the street, turn around and check out her backside? Where did that come from? If I don't question that, I'll just go along with the crowd. The locker-room talk. In circle, we sit and we question these things. Why do I think the way that I think? Why do I act the way that I act? Because when I get down to it, I'm not thinking, I'm not being an individual, I'm not taking responsibility for who I am and what it is I put into this world.
Muda wa duara ni wanaume kukaa na wanaume na kukata kati kwenye upuuzi, kushindanisha njia za mifumo ya kufikiri. Ninafikiri jinsi ninavyofikiri na ninatenda jinsi ninavyotenda kwa sababu sijajiuliza hilo. Kama, nani kasema ninapomuona mwanamke akitembea mtaani, nigeuke na kuangalia makalio yake? Hiyo imetokea wapi? Kama nisipouliza hilo, nitafuata tu mkumbo. Misemo ya chumba cha kubadilisha. Kwenye duara, tunakaa na kuuliza haya mambo. Kwanini ninafikiri jinsi ninavyofikiri? Kwanini ninatenda jinsi ninavyotenda? Kwa sababu ninapoangalia kwa umakini, sifikirii, siwi kama mtu binafsi, sichukui wajibu wa mimi ni nani na ni nini ninachoweka kwenye hii dunia.
It was in a circle session that my life took a turn. I remember being asked who I was, and I didn't have an answer, at least not one that felt honest in a room full of men who were seeking truth. It would have been easy to say, "I'm a Blood," or, "My name is Vegas," or any number of facades I had manufactured to hide behind. It was in that moment and in that venue that the jig was up. I realized that as sharp as I believed I was, I didn't even know who I was or why I acted the way that I acted. I couldn't stand in a room full of men who were seeking to serve and support and present an authentic me. It was in that moment that I graduated to a place within that was ready for transformation.
Ilikua kwenye kipindi cha duara ambapo maisha yangu yaligeuka. Nakumbuka kuulizwa mimi ni nani, na sikuwa najibu, angalau hata moja lililokuwa kweli kwenye chumba kilichojaa wanaume waliokuwa wakitafuta ukweli. Ingekua rahisi kusema, "Mimi ni Mwanakundi," au, "Jina langu ni Vegas," au idadi yeyote ya ngao nilizotengeneza kujifichia. Ilikua kwenye huo muda na hiyo sehemu ambapo ngoma ilipoisha. Niligundua kuwa kadri nilivyoamini nilikua mkali, nilikua hata sijui nilikua nani au kwanini nilitenda jinsi nilivyotenda. Sikuweza kusimama kwenye chumba kilichojaa wanaume waliotaka kuhudumia na kusaidia na kuwasilisha mimi niliye halisi. Ilikuwa kwenye huo mda nilipohitimu kwenye sehemu ya ndani ambayo ilikua tayari kwa mabadiliko.
For decades, I kept being the victim of molestation at the hands of a babysitter a secret. I submitted to this under the threat of my younger sister being harmed. I was seven, she was three. I believed it was my responsibility to keep her safe. It was in that instant that the seeds were sown for a long career of hurting others, be it physical, mental or emotional. I developed, in that instant, at seven years old, the belief that going forward in life, if a situation presented itself where someone was going to get hurt, I would be the one doing the hurting. I also formulated the belief that loving put me in harm's way. I also learned that caring about another person made me weak. So not caring, that must equal strength. The greatest way to mask a shaky sense of self is to hide behind a false air of respect.
Kwa miongo, niliweka kuwa muathirika wa ubakaji kwenye mikono ya yaya kama siri. Nilitii kwa hili chini ya tishio la mdogo wangu wa kike kuumizwa. Nilikua na miaka saba, alikua na mitatu. Ninaamini ilikua wajibu wangu kumweka salama. Ilikuwa papo hapo kuwa mbegu zilipopandwa kwa kazi ndefu ya kuumiza wengine iwe kimwili, kiakili au kihisia. Nilitengeneza kwa mara moja, katika miaka saba, imani ya kuendelea mbele na maisha, kama hali ilijiwasilisha yenyewe ambapo mtu angeenda kuumia, ingekua ni mimi wa kuumiza. Niliunda pia imani kuwa kupenda kuliniweka kwenye njia ya madhara. Nilijifunza pia kujali kuhusu mtu mwingine kulinifanya niwe dhaifu. Hivyo kutokujali, lazima iwe sawa na nguvu. Njia kuu ya kufunika hisia binafsi zisizo imara ni kuwa nyuma ya hewa ya uongo ya heshima.
Sitting in circle resembles sitting in a fire. It is a crucible that can and does break. It broke my old sense of self, diseased value system and way of looking at others. My old stale modes of thinking were invited into the open to see if this is who I wanted to be in life. I was accompanied by skilled facilitators on a journey into the depths of myself to find those wounded parts that not only festered but seeped out to create unsafe space for others. At times, it resembled an exorcism, and in essence, it was. There was an extraction of old, diseased ways of thinking, being and reacting and an infusion of purpose.
Kukaa kwenye duara kunafanana na kukaa kwenye moto. Ni chombo ambacho kinaweza na kinavunjika. Ilivunja hisia zangu binafsi za zamani, mfumo wa thamani wenye ugonjwa na namna ya kuangalia wengine. Njia zangu za kizamani na zilizokauka za kufikiri zilikaribishwa kwenye uwazi kuona kama hivi ndivyo nilivyotaka kuwa maishani. Nilifuatana na wawezeshaji wenye ujuzi kwenye safari ya kina cha mimi mwenyewe kutafuta hizo sehemu zilizojeruhiwa ambazo hazikuweka tu jipu ila pia zilitiririka nje kuumba sehemu isiyo salama kwa wengine. Mara nyingine, ilifanana kama zinguo, na kimsingi, ilikuwa hivyo. Kulikua na utoaji wa njia za zamani, zenye ugonjwa wa kufikiri, kuwa na kuguswa na upenyezaji wa madhumuni.
Sitting in those circles saved my life. I stand here today as a testament to the fact of the power of the work.
Kuwa kwenye duara kuliokoa maisha yangu. Nasimama hapa leo kama ushahidi wa ukweli wa nguvu ya hiyo kazi.
I was paroled in June 2014, following my third hearing before a panel of former law-enforcement officials who were tasked with determining my current threat level to society. I stand here today for the first time since I was 14 years old not under any form of state supervision. I'm married to a tremendous woman named Holly, and together, we are raising two sons who I encourage to experience emotions in a safe way. I let them hold me when I cry. They get to witness me not have all the answers. My desire is for them to understand that being a man is not some machismo caricature, and that characteristics usually defined as weaknesses are parts of the whole healthy man.
Nilitoka gerezani kwa masharti Juni 2014, kufuatia usikilizaji kesi wa tatu na jopo la maafisa wa utekelezaji sheria wa zamani ambao walikua na kazi ya kuamua kiwango changu cha tishio kwenye jamii. Nasimama hapa leo kwa mara ya kwanza tangu nilivyokuwa miaka 14 nikiwa sipo chini ya namna yoyote ya usimamizi wa nchi Nimemuoa mwanamke mkubwa aitwae Holly, na kwa pamoja, tunalea wavulana wawili ambao ninawahamasisha kupata uzoefu wa hisia kwa njia salama. Ninawaruhusu wanishike ninapolia. Wanapata kunishuhudia mimi nisipokua na majibu yote. Nina tamani kwa wao kuelewa kuwa kua mwanaume sio namna ya ugumu wa kibonzo. na kua tabia mara nyingi zinazofafanuliwa kama udhaifu ni sehemu za mwanaume mzima mwenye afya.
So today, I continue to work not just on myself, but in support of young males in my community. The challenge is to eradicate this cycle of emotional illiteracy and groupthink that allows our males to continue to victimize others as well as themselves. As a result of this, they develop new ways of how they want to show up in the world and how they expect this world to show up on their behalf.
Hivyo leo, naendelea kufanya kazi sio tu kwangu mwenyewe, ila kwenye kusaidia vijana wa kiume kwenye jamii yangu. Changamoto ni kutokomeza huu mzunguko wa ujinga wa hisia na wazokundi unaoruhusu vijana wetu kuendelea kuathiri wengine pamoja na wenyewe. Matokeo ya haya, wanaendeleza njia mpya za jinsi wanataka kutokea kwenye dunia na jinsi wanategemea hii dunia kutokea kwa niaba yao.
Thank you.
Asanteni.
(Applause)
(Makofi)