I could never have imagined that a 19-year-old suicide bomber would actually teach me a valuable lesson. But he did. He taught me to never presume anything about anyone you don't know.
Nikdy sa mi ani nesnívalo, že 19 ročný samovrah s bombou mi dá tak cennú lekciu do života. Ale dal. Naučil ma, že o mne neznámych ľuďoch nemôžem nikdy nič predpokladať.
On a Thursday morning in July 2005, the bomber and I, unknowingly, boarded the same train carriage at the same time, standing, apparently, just feet apart. I didn't see him. Actually, I didn't see anyone. You know not to look at anyone on the Tube, but I guess he saw me. I guess he looked at all of us, as his hand hovered over the detonation switch. I've often wondered: What was he thinking? Especially in those final seconds.
V júli 2005, v to utorkové ráno som nič netušiaca nastúpila do toho istého vozňa metra, ako bombový útočník, muselo nás deliť len pár centimetrov. Nevidela som ho. Vlastne, nevidela som nikoho. V metre sa naučíte nikoho si nevšímať, ale myslím, že on si ma všimol. Myslím, že si obzrel nás všetkých, vo chvíli keď vyťahoval rozbušku. Často som sa zamýšľala: Na čo myslel? Hlavne v tých posledných sekundách.
I know it wasn't personal. He didn't set out to kill or maim me, Gill Hicks. I mean -- he didn't know me. No. Instead, he gave me an unwarranted and an unwanted label. I had become the enemy. To him, I was the "other," the "them," as opposed to "us." The label "enemy" allowed him to dehumanize us. It allowed him to push that button. And he wasn't selective. Twenty-six precious lives were taken in my carriage alone, and I was almost one of them.
Viem, že to nebolo osobné. Zabiť alebo zmrzačiť nechcel mňa, Gill Hicks. Vlastne... On nevedel, kto som. Nie. Namiesto toho mi však dal, neodvôdnenú a nechcenú nálepku. Stala som sa nepriateľom. Bola som medzi tými "druhými," "oni" ako protiklad "nás." Nálepka "nepriateľ" mu stačila na to, aby nás zbavil ľudskosti. Aby stlačil ten gombík. Nevyberal si. Len v mojom vozni zomrelo 26 vzácnych životov, a mne veľa nechýbalo.
In the time it takes to draw a breath, we were plunged into a darkness so immense that it was almost tangible; what I imagine wading through tar might be like. We didn't know we were the enemy. We were just a bunch of commuters who, minutes earlier, had followed the Tube etiquette: no direct eye contact, no talking and absolutely no conversation.
Vtedy sme len zalapali po dychu, a zrazu sme sa ocitli v tme tak hustej, že sa dala krájať. Akoby sme sa brodili asvaltom. Nevedli sme, že sme nepriatelia. Boli sme len hŕstka cestujúcich, ktorí ešte pred pár minútami dodržiavali pravidla cestovania metrom: nepozerať priamo do očí, byť ticho a hlavne sa s nikým nerozprávať.
But in the lifting of the darkness, we were reaching out. We were helping each other. We were calling out our names, a little bit like a roll call, waiting for responses.
Ale ako nás obklopovala temnota, nahmatávali sme jeden druhého. Pomáhali sme si. Vykrikovali sme svoje mená, ako keď sa robí "prezenčka", čakali sme, kto sa ozve.
"I'm Gill. I'm here. I'm alive. OK."
"Ja som Gill. Tu som. Živá. V poriadku."
"I'm Gill. Here. Alive. OK."
" Som Gill. Tu. Živá. V poriadku."
I didn't know Alison. But I listened for her check-ins every few minutes. I didn't know Richard. But it mattered to me that he survived.
Nevedela som, kto je Alison. Ale každých pár minút som počula, ako sa nám hlási. Nevedela som, kto je Richard. Ale záležalo mi na tom, že prežil.
All I shared with them was my first name. They didn't know that I was a head of a department at the Design Council. And here is my beloved briefcase, also rescued from that morning. They didn't know that I published architecture and design journals, that I was a Fellow of the Royal Society of Arts, that I wore black -- still do -- that I smoked cigarillos. I don't smoke cigarillos anymore. I drank gin and I watched TED Talks, of course, never dreaming that one day I would be standing, balancing on prosthetic legs, giving a talk.
Jediné, čo o mne vedeli, bolo moje krstné meno. Oni nevedeli, že som vedúca oddelenia v Rade dizajnu. A tu je moja milovaná aktovka, tiež sa ho v to ráno podarilo zachrániť. Oni nevedeli, že publikujem v časopisoch o architektúre a dizajne, že som Člen Kráľovskej spoločnosti umenia, že nosím čiernu, ešte stále... Že som fajčila mini cigary. Mini cigary už nefajčím. Že som zvykla piť gin a pozerať TED talky, samozrejme, nikdy by som neverila, že jedného dňa, sa tu budem pred vami kolísať na umelých nohách a hovoriť.
I was a young Australian woman doing extraordinary things in London. And I wasn't ready for that all to end. I was so determined to survive that I used my scarf to tie tourniquets around the tops of my legs, and I just shut everything and everyone out, to focus, to listen to myself, to be guided by instinct alone. I lowered my breathing rate. I elevated my thighs. I held myself upright and I fought the urge to close my eyes.
Bola som mladá Austrálčanka, ktorá v Londýne robila výnimočné veci. A nebola som pripravená o to všetko prísť. Moje odhodlanie prežiť bolo tak veľké, že som si zo šálu urobila škrtidlo a obmotala som si ním nohy, vypustila som z hlavy všetko naokolo a započúvala som sa do svojho vnútra nechala som sa viesť len inštinktom. Začala som dýchať pomalšie. Zdvihla som stehná. Vzpriamila som sa a zo všetkých síl som sa snažila zostať pri vedomí.
I held on for almost an hour, an hour to contemplate the whole of my life up until this point. Perhaps I should have done more. Perhaps I could have lived more, seen more. Maybe I should have gone running, dancing, taken up yoga. But my priority and my focus was always my work. I lived to work. Who I was on my business card mattered to me. But it didn't matter down in that tunnel.
Takto som bola asi hodinu, hodinu som premýšľala nad celým svojim životom až do toho momentu. Možno som mohla urobiť viac. Možno som toho mohla prežiť viac, vidieť viac. Možno som mala chodiť behať, tancovať, začať s jógou. Ale pre mňa bola vždy na prvom mieste moja práca. Žila som pre prácu. To, čo som mala na vizitke pre mňa veľa znamenalo. Ale dole, v tom tuneli to bolo jedno.
By the time I felt that first touch from one of my rescuers, I was unable to speak, unable to say even a small word, like "Gill." I surrendered my body to them. I had done all I possibly could, and now I was in their hands.
Kým som zacítila dotyk jedneho z mojich záchrancov, som sa nezmohla ani na slovo, ani na jediné, ako "Gill." Len som im odovdzala svoje telo. Urobila som všetko, čo som mohla, a môj život bol vtedy už v ich rukách.
I understood just who and what humanity really is, when I first saw the ID tag that was given to me when I was admitted to hospital. And it read: "One unknown estimated female." One unknown estimated female. Those four words were my gift. What they told me very clearly was that my life was saved, purely because I was a human being. Difference of any kind made no difference to the extraordinary lengths that the rescuers were prepared to go to save my life, to save as many unknowns as they could, and putting their own lives at risk. To them, it didn't matter if I was rich or poor, the color of my skin, whether I was male or female, my sexual orientation, who I voted for, whether I was educated, if I had a faith or no faith at all. Nothing mattered other than I was a precious human life.
Pochopila som, čo vlastne naozaj znamená ľudskosť, práve v momente, keď som si všimla identifikačný štítok, ktorý mi dali pri príchode do nemocnice. Bolo tam napísané: "jeden neznámy, pravdepodobne žena." Jeden neznámy, pravdepodobne žena. Tieto štyri slová boli pre mňa darom. Veľmi jasne som z nich pochopila, že môj život bol zachránený, jednoducho len preto, že som ľudská bytosť. Nič na svete sa nedá prirovnať, úžasnému nasadeniu záchranárov, s tým, čo boli pripravení podstúpiť, aby mi zachránili život, aby zachránili čo najviac neznámych, aby riskovali svoje vlastné životy. Im nezáležalo na tom, či som bohatá alebo chudobná, akú mám farbu pleti, či som muž alebo žena, na mojej sexuálnej orientácii, koho som volila, či som vzdelaná, či som aspoň trochu veriaca, alebo vôbec. Nezáležalo na ničom inom, než na tom, že som vzácny ľudský život.
I see myself as a living fact. I am proof that unconditional love and respect can not only save, but it can transform lives. Here is a wonderful image of one of my rescuers, Andy, and I taken just last year. Ten years after the event, and here we are, arm in arm.
Samu seba vidím ako živý fakt. Som dôkazom, že bezpodmienečná láska a úcta má moc nielen zachrániť, ale aj premieňať životy. Tu je nádherná fotografia s jedným z mojich záchrancov, s Andym, to bolo minulý rok. Desať rokov po tej udalosti, a pozrite, v objatí.
Throughout all the chaos, my hand was held tightly. My face was stroked gently. What did I feel? I felt loved. What's shielded me from hatred and wanting retribution, what's given me the courage to say: this ends with me is love. I was loved.
Napriek všetkému tomu zmätku, ma niekto pevne držal za ruku. Niekto ma jemne hladkal po tvári. Čo som cítila? Že som milovaná. To, čo ma uchránilo od nenávisti a túžby po odplate, čo mi dalo odvahu povedať: "mnou to končí " je láska. Bola som milovaná.
I believe the potential for widespread positive change is absolutely enormous because I know what we're capable of. I know the brilliance of humanity. So this leaves me with some pretty big things to ponder and some questions for us all to consider: Is what unites us not far greater than what can ever divide? Does it have to take a tragedy or a disaster for us to feel deeply connected as one species, as human beings? And when will we embrace the wisdom of our era to rise above mere tolerance and move to an acceptance for all who are only a label until we know them?
Verím, že potenciál pre rozsiahlu zmenu k lepšiemu je naozaj obrovský lebo viem, čoho sme schopní. Viem, že ľustvo môže zažiariť. To ma núti zamyslieť sa nad pár celkom veľkými vecami a otázkami, ktoré sa týkajú nás všetkých: Nie je to, čo nás spája väčšie, než to, čo nás rozdeľuje? Musí dôjsť k nešťastiu alebo pohrome aby sme cítili to hlboké prepojenie, ako jeden druh ako ľudské bytosti? Kedy uchopíme múdrosť našej doby, aby prevýšila obyčajnú toleranciu a naučila nás prijímať všetkých, ktorí sú pre nás len nálepkou pokiaľ ich nespoznáme?
Thank you.
Ďakujem.
(Applause)
(Potlesk)