[This talk contains graphic images]
〔本演說含有清楚寫實的影像〕
So I'm sitting across from Pedro, the coyote, the human smuggler, in his cement block apartment, in a dusty Reynosa neighborhood somewhere on the US-Mexico border. It's 3am. The day before, he had asked me to come back to his apartment. We would talk man to man. He wanted me to be there at night and alone. I didn't know if he was setting me up, but I knew I wanted to tell his story. He asked me, "What will you do if one of these pollitos, or migrants, slips into the water and can't swim? Will you simply take your pictures and watch him drown? Or will you jump in and help me?" At that moment, Pedro wasn't a cartoonish TV version of a human smuggler. He was just a young man, about my age, asking me some really tough questions. This was life and death.
我坐在派德羅對面, 他是人口販運的蛇頭, 我們在他的水泥公寓中, 在滿是灰塵的雷諾薩鄰坊, 靠近美墨邊境。 時間是早上三點。 前一天,他要我回到他的公寓。 我們要像男人對男人般地談話。 他要我晚上獨自去那裡。 我不知道他是否會設計我, 但我知道我想要說出他的故事。 他問我:「你會怎麼做? 如果其中一個移民 掉到水中且不會游泳, 你會繼續拍照,然後看著他溺死嗎? 還是你會跳下水幫我?」 那一刻,派德羅並不是電視 卡通中的那種人口販運蛇頭。 他只是個年輕人,年齡和我相仿, 正在問我一些很難答的問題。 生死就在一線間。
The next night, I photographed Pedro as he swam the Rio Grande, crossing with a group of young migrants into the United States. Real lives hung in the balance every time he crossed people. For the last 20 years, I've documented one of the largest transnational migrations in world history, which has resulted in millions of undocumented people living in the United States. The vast majority of these people leave Central America and Mexico to escape grinding poverty and extreme levels of social violence.
隔天晚上,我拍攝了 派德羅游過格蘭河的畫面, 他和一群年輕移民一起游進美國。 每當他帶人渡河時, 冒的都是真實性命的危險。 在過去的二十年間, 我記錄下了世界歷史上 其中一個最大的跨國遷移, 結果是數百萬名 沒有合法文件的人在美國定居。 這些人大部分是要 離開中美和墨西哥, 逃離極度貧困和極端的社會暴力。
I photograph intimate moments of everyday people's lives, of people living in the shadows. Time and again, I've witnessed resilient individuals in extremely challenging situations constructing practical ways to improve their lives. With these photographs, I place you squarely in the middle of these moments and ask you to think about them as if you knew them. This body of work is a historical document, a time capsule that can teach us not only about migration, but about society and ourselves.
我拍攝記錄平凡小人物 生活中的私密時刻, 那些住在陰影中的人。 一而再再而三,我目睹了 在極度困難的情況中 堅韌不拔的人, 用實際可行的方式 來改善他們的生活。 透過這些照片, 我讓各位直接進入這些時刻當中, 請各位用假設自己 認識他們的立場來想想他們。 這些作品是歷史記錄文件, 是時間膠囊,能夠教導 我們的課題不僅是移民, 還有社會和我們自己。
I started the project in the year 2000. The migrant trail has taught me how we treat our most vulnerable residents in the United States. It has taught me about violence and pain and hope and resilience and struggle and sacrifice. It has taught me firsthand that rhetoric and political policy directly impact real people. And most of all, the migrant trail has taught me that everyone who embarks on it is changed forever.
我從 2000 年開始這個計畫。 移民路線讓我學到 我們是如何對待 美國最脆弱的居民。 它讓我學到暴力、痛苦、希望、 韌性、掙扎,和犧牲。 它讓我親身學到 辭令政策和政治政策 會直接影響到真實的人。 最重要的, 移民路線讓我學到 走過這條路的每個人 都從此改變了。
I began this project in the year 2000 by documenting a group of day laborers on Chicago’s Northwest side. Each day, the men would wake up at 5am, go to a McDonald's, where they would stand outside and wait to jump into strangers' work vans, in the hopes of finding a job for the day. They earned five dollars an hour, had no job security, no health insurance and were almost all undocumented. The men were all pretty tough. They had to be. The police constantly harassed them for loitering, as they made their way each day. Slowly, they welcomed me into their community. And this was one of the first times that I consciously used my camera as a weapon.
我從 2000 年開始這個計畫, 在芝加哥西北區記錄 一群臨時工的生活。 每天,他們五點就要起床, 去麥當勞,站在店外, 等著跳上陌生人的工作小貨車, 希望能找到那天的工作。 他們的時薪是五美元, 沒有工作安全保障, 沒有健康保險, 幾乎都是沒有合法文件的人。 這些人都很強悍。 他們必須強悍。 警方卻常騷擾他們, 說他們意圖不軌在外遊盪, 而他們只是每天努力討生活。 慢慢地,他們歡迎我 進入他們的社區。 這是我最初開始有意識地 用我的照相機來當作武器。
One day, as the men were organizing to make a day-labor worker center, a young man named Tomás came up to me and asked me will I stay afterwards and photograph him. So I agreed. As he walked into the middle of the empty dirt lot, a light summer rain started to fall. Much to my surprise, he started to take off his clothes. (Laughs) I didn't exactly know what to do. He pointed to the sky and said, "Our bodies are all we have." He was proud, defiant and vulnerable, all at once. And this remains one of my favorite photographs of the past 20 years. His words have stuck with me ever since.
有一天,當他們組織起來 要成立臨時工人中心時, 一位叫做托馬斯的年輕人來找我, 問我之後能否留下來拍攝他。 我同意了。 當他走進空曠的爛泥地中間時, 天空中飄起了夏日細雨。 讓我很意外的是, 他開始脫衣服。(笑) 我不太知道該怎麼辦。 他指向天空,說: 「我們的身體是我們僅有的。」 他的驕傲、反抗、 脆弱,全都交織在一起。 這張照片仍是我過去二十年中 最愛的其中一張。 在那之後,他的話就 一直留在我腦海中。
I met Lupe Guzmán around the same time, while she was organizing and fighting the day-labor agencies which were exploiting her and her coworkers. She organized small-scale protests, sit-ins and much more. She paid a high price for her activism, because the day-labor agencies like Ron's blackballed her and refused to give her work. So in order to survive, she started selling elotes, or corn on the cob, on the street, as a street vendor. And today, you can still find her selling all types of corn and different candies and stuff.
大約同時期, 我遇見了路佩古茲曼, 她當時正在組織和對抗 零時工仲介機構, 這些機構在剝削她和她的同事。 她組織了一些小規模的 抗議、靜坐等等。 她為她的行動主義 付出很高的代價, 因為像 Ron's 這種零時工仲介機構 會排擠她並且拒絕給她工作。 為了生存, 她開始在街頭賣烤玉米, 成為了街頭小販。 現在,你仍然可以看到她 在販售各種口味的烤玉米 和不同的零食等等。
Lupe brought me into the inner world of her family and showed me the true impact of migration. She introduced me to everyone in her extended family, Gabi, Juan, Conchi, Chava, everyone. Her sister Remedios had married Anselmo, whose eight of nine siblings had migrated from Mexico to Chicago in the nineties. So many people in her family opened their world to me and shared their stories. Families are the heart and lifeblood of the migrant trail. When these families migrate, they change and transform societies. It's rare to be able to access so intimately the intimate and day-to-day lives of people who, by necessity, are closed to outsiders.
路佩把我帶入她家庭的內部世界, 讓我看到移民的真正影響。 她把我介紹給她的 大家庭中的每個人, 加比、黃恩、康奇、 加瓦,每個人。 她姐姐里梅狄歐斯 嫁給了安賽爾摩, 他的九位手足中有八位 都是在九○年代從墨西哥 移民到芝加哥的。 她的許多家人都對我 打開了他們的世界, 分享他們的故事。 移民路線的心臟和命脈就是家庭。 當這些家庭移民時, 他們會改變、轉變社會, 很難得有機會如此親密地進入 這些人私人的日常生活, 他們對外來者通常 必須採取封閉的態度。
At the time, Lupe's family lived in the insular world of the Back of the Yards, a tight-knit Chicago neighborhood, which for more than 100 years had been a portal of entry for recent immigrants -- first, from Europe, like my family, and more recently, from Latin America. Their world was largely hidden from view. And they call the larger, white world outside the neighborhood "Gringolandia." You know, like lots of generations moving to the Back of the Yards, the family did the thankless hidden jobs that most people didn't want to do: cleaning office buildings, preparing airline meals in cold factories, meat packing, demolitions. It was hard manual labor for low exploitation wages. But on weekends, they celebrated together, with backyard barbecues and birthday celebrations, like most working families the world over.
那時, 路佩的家人住在 「後院」的孤立世界中, 後院是個聯繫緊密的芝加哥街坊, 超過一百年來,它一直都是 近期移民進入的入口—— 首先,來自歐洲的人, 比如我的家人, 近期則是來自拉丁美洲的人。 他們的世界大部分不會被看到。 他們把街坊外面那個 更大的白人世界稱為 「Gringolandia」。 和許多搬入後院的世世代代一樣, 這個家庭也做了大部分人 不願意做的工作, 不受到注意的工作: 打掃辦公室大樓、在寒冷的 工廠中準備航班上的餐點、 包裝肉類、拆房子。 這些都是很辛苦的人工, 薪水被剝削到極低。 但,在週末,他們會一起慶祝, 在後院烤肉、 慶生, 就像世界上其他勞動家庭一樣。
I became an honorary family member. My nickname was "Johnny Canales," after the Tejano TV star. I had access to the dominant culture, so I was part family photographer, part social worker and part strange outsider payaso clown, who was there to amuse them. One of the most memorable moments of this time was photographing the birth of Lupe's granddaughter, Elizabeth. Her two older siblings had crossed across the Sonoran Desert, being carried and pushed in strollers into the United States. So at that time, her family allowed me to photograph her birth. And it was one of the really coolest things as the nurses placed baby Elizabeth on Gabi's chest. She was the family's first American citizen. That girl is 17 today. And I still remain in close contact with Lupe and much of her family.
我成了榮譽家庭成員。 我的小名是「強尼卡納雷斯」, 這是一位德哈諾電視明星的名字。 我可以接觸主流文化, 所以我有一部分算是家庭 攝影師、一部分是社工、 一部分是奇怪的外來小丑, 去那裡娛樂他們。 這段時期最難忘的時刻之一, 是拍攝路佩的孫女伊麗莎白出生。 她兩位較年長的手足 已經穿越了索諾拉沙漠, 在嬰兒車中被帶進美國。 所以那時, 她的家人允許我拍攝她出生。 當護士把寶寶伊麗莎白 抱到加比的胸口時, 那真的是酷極了。 她是全家的第一位美國公民。 現在,那個女孩十七歲了。 我還和路佩及她大部分 家人保持密切聯絡。
My work is firmly rooted in my own family's history of exile and subsequent rebirth in the United States. My father was born in Nazi Germany in 1934. Like most assimilated German Jews, my grandparents simply hoped that the troubles of the Third Reich would blow over. But in spring of 1939, a small but important event happened to my family. My dad needed an appendectomy. And because he was Jewish, not one hospital would operate on him. The operation was carried out on his kitchen table, on the family's kitchen table. Only after understanding the discrimination they faced did my grandparents make the gut-wrenching decision to send their two children on the Kindertransport bound for England. My family's survival has informed my deep commitment to telling this migration story in a deep and nuanced way.
我的工作有著很堅固的根源, 就是我自己的家庭史, 包括流亡以及後來在美國重生。 1934 年,我父親生在納粹的德國。 和大部分被同化的 德國猶太人一樣, 我的祖父母就只是希望 納粹德國的問題會安然過去。 但 1939 年春天, 我的家庭發生了一件重要的小事。 我爸爸需要做闌尾切除手術。 因為他是猶太人, 沒有醫院願意為他開刀。 手術是在他的廚房桌上進行的, 在家中的廚房桌上。 在了解到他們所面臨的歧視之後, 我的祖父母做出了摧心裂肝的決定, 將他們的兩個孩子送去 難民兒童運動,讓他們前往英國。 我的家人能存活下來, 讓我立下很深的承諾, 要用深刻、細微的方式 說出這個移民故事。
The past and the present are always interconnected. The long-standing legacy of the US government's involvement in Latin America is controversial and well-documented. The 1954 CIA-backed coup of Árbenz in Guatemala, the Iran-Contra scandal, the School of the Americas, the murder of Archbishop Romero on the steps of a San Salvador church are all examples of this complex history, a history which has led to instability and impunity in Central America. Luckily, the history is not unremittingly dark. The United States and Mexico took in thousands and millions, actually, of refugees escaping the civil wars of the 70s and 80s. But by the time I was documenting the migrant trail in Guatemala in the late 2000s, most Americans had no connection to the increasing levels of violence, impunity and migration in Central America. To most US citizens, it might as well have been the Moon.
過去和現在向來都是相互連結的。 美國政府干涉拉丁美洲 所遺留下來的長久後果備受爭議, 且被清楚記錄下來。 1954 年,中情局支持 瓜地馬拉的阿本斯政變、 伊朗門事件醜聞、 西半球安全合作學院、 羅梅羅主教在聖薩爾瓦多 教堂的階梯上被謀殺, 這些都是這段複雜歷史的例子, 這段歷史造成了中美洲的 不穩定和罪犯逍遙法外。 幸運的是,這段歷史 並非一直都是黑暗的。 七○和八○年代,美國和墨西哥 其實收容了數百萬逃離內戰的難民。 但當我在瓜地馬拉記錄移民路線時, 兩千年代末期, 大部分的美國人 都和中美洲不斷增加的暴力、 讓罪犯逍遙法外,及移民沒有任何關聯。 對大部分美國公民而言, 這些事就像發生在月球上一樣。
Over the years, I slowly pieced together the complicated puzzle that stretched from Central America through Mexico to my backyard in Chicago. I hit almost all the border towns -- Brownsville, Reynosa, McAllen, Yuma, Calexico -- recording the increasing militarization of the border. Each time I returned, there was more infrastructure, more sensors, more fences, more Border Patrol agents and more high-tech facilities with which to incarcerate the men, women and children who our government detained. Post-9/11, it became a huge industry.
這些年來,我慢慢地拼湊出 這複雜的拼圖, 從中美洲通過墨西哥 延伸到我在芝加哥的後院。 我幾乎去過每個邊境城鎮—— 布朗斯維爾、雷諾薩、麥卡倫 尤馬、加利西哥—— 記錄下邊境越來越嚴重的 軍事化備戰狀態。 我每次回來, 就會看到更多基礎建設、 更多感測器、更多柵欄、 更多邊境巡邏員、 更多高科技場所, 那些場所是用來監禁 我們的政府所拘留的 男人、女人,和孩子。 九一一之後,監禁 變成了很大的產業。
I photographed the massive and historic immigration marches in Chicago, children at detention facilities and the slow percolating rise of anti-immigrant hate groups, including sheriff Joe Arpaio in Arizona. I documented the children in detention facilities, deportation flights and a lot of different things. I witnessed the rise of the Mexican drug war and the deepening levels of social violence in Central America. I came to understand how interconnected all these disparate elements were and how interconnected we all are.
我拍攝了芝加哥很有 歷史性的大型移民遊行、 在拘留所的孩子, 以及反移民仇恨團體 慢慢浸透的興起, 包括亞利桑納的喬阿爾帕約。 我記錄下了在拘留所的孩子、 驅逐出境的班機, 及許多不同的事物。 我目擊了墨西哥毒品戰爭的興起, 以及中美洲社會暴力日益嚴重, 我漸漸了解到這些迥然 不同的元素有多麼息息相關, 及我們所有人有多麼息息相關。
As photographers, we never really know which particular moment will stay with us or which particular person will be with us. The people we photograph become a part of our collective history. Jerica Estrada was a young eight-year-old girl whose memory has stayed with me. Her father had gone to LA in order to work to support his family. And like any dutiful father, he returned home to Guatemala, bearing gifts. That weekend, he had presented his eldest son with a motorcycle -- a true luxury. As the son was driving the father back home from a family party, a gang member rode up and shot the dad through the back. It was a case of mistaken identity, an all too common occurrence in this country.
身為攝影師, 我們從來不知道哪些特定的時刻 會留在我們的腦海中, 或者哪些特定的人會與我們同在。 我們拍攝的對象, 成為我們共同歷史的一部分。 葉麗卡艾斯特拉達 是一名八歲的女孩, 她的記憶留在我心中。 她父親為了養家糊口, 去了洛杉磯工作。 和任何盡本分的父親一樣, 他帶著禮物返回瓜地馬拉的家。 那個週末,他給了 他的長子一台摩特車—— 真的算很奢華。 當兒子載著父親 從一個家庭派對回家時, 一位幫派成員騎車衝上去, 從後面朝他的父親開槍。 他認錯了人, 在這個國家是很常發生的狀況。
But the damage was done. The bullet passed through the father and into the son. This was not a random act of violence, but one instance of social violence in a region of the world where this has become the norm. Impunity thrives when all the state and governmental institutions fail to protect the individual. Too often, the result forces people to leave their homes and flee and take great risks in search of safety. Jerica's father died en route to the hospital. His body had saved his son's life. As we arrived to the public hospital, to the gates of the public hospital, I noticed a young girl in a pink striped shirt, screaming. Nobody comforted the little girl as she clasped her tiny hands. She was the man's youngest daughter, her name was Jerica Estrada. She cried and raged, and nobody could do anything, for her father was gone.
但傷害已經造成。 子彈穿過父親,擊中兒子。 這不是個隨機暴力行為, 而是社會暴力的一個例子, 在世界的這個區域, 這種暴力已經成了常態。 當國家和政府的制度 無法保護個人時, 罪犯逍遙法外的情況就會興起。 通常,結果就是迫使 人們離開家園逃亡, 為了尋求安全而冒很大的風險。 葉麗卡的父親 在送往醫院途中過世。 他的身體救了他兒子的命。 當我們抵達公立醫院, 抵達公立醫院的大門, 我注意到有一位穿著 粉紅條紋上衣的年輕女孩在尖叫。 當那個小女孩緊握著她的 小手時,沒有人安慰她。 她就是那名男子最小的女兒, 她叫做葉麗卡艾斯特拉達。 她哭泣、憤怒, 沒有人能做什麼, 因為她父親已經走了。
These days, when people ask me why young mothers with four-month-old babies will travel thousands of miles, knowing they will likely be imprisoned in the United States, I remember Jerica, and I think of her and of her pain and of her father who saved his son's life with his own body, and I understand the truly human need to migrate in search of a better life.
如今,如果有人問我 為什麼年輕母親會願意 帶著只有四個月大的寶寶 旅行數千英里, 甚至知道他們可能在美國會被監禁, 我就會想起葉麗卡, 我會想起她和她的痛苦, 想起她的父親用自己的身體 救了兒子的命, 我就會了解為了尋找 更好的人生而移民, 背後其實有著真正的人類需求。
Thank you.
謝謝。
(Applause)
(掌聲)