As a little girl, I always imagined I would one day run away. From the age of six on, I kept a packed bag with some clothes and cans of food tucked away in the back of a closet. There was a deep restlessness in me, a primal fear that I would fall prey to a life of routine and boredom. And so, many of my early memories involved intricate daydreams where I would walk across borders, forage for berries, and meet all kinds of strange people living unconventional lives on the road.
Kot deklica sem si vedno predstavljala, kako bom nekega dne pobegnila od doma. Od šestih let naprej sem imela vedno pripravljeno torbo z nekaj oblekami in skrite konzerve s hrano zadaj v omari. V meni je vladal globok nemir, prvinski strah, da bom podlegla življenju v rutini in dolgočasju. Tako je veliko mojih spominov iz otroštva vključevalo dodelane sanjarije, kjer sem prestopala meje, nabirala jagodičje in srečevala vse vrste čudnih ljudi, ki so živeli neobičajno popotniško življenje.
Years have passed, but many of the adventures I fantasized about as a child -- traveling and weaving my way between worlds other than my own — have become realities through my work as a documentary photographer. But no other experience has felt as true to my childhood dreams as living amongst and documenting the lives of fellow wanderers across the United States. This is the nomadic dream, a different kind of American dream lived by young hobos, travelers, hitchhikers, vagrants and tramps.
Leta so minila, a veliko avantur, o katerih sem sanjarila kot otrok – potovanja in iskanje svoje poti med svetovi, drugačnimi od mojega – se je uresničilo skozi moje delo dokumentarne fotografinje. A nobena druga izkušnja se ni tako približala mojim otroškim sanjam kot življenje med popotniki prek ZDA in dokumentiranje njihovega življenja. To so nomadske sanje, drugačna vrsta ameriških sanj, ki jih živijo mladi brezdomci, popotniki, štoparji, prosjaki in potepuhi. V večini naših glav je potepuh bitje iz preteklosti.
In most of our minds, the vagabond is a creature from the past. The word "hobo" conjures up an old black and white image of a weathered old man covered in coal, legs dangling out of a boxcar, but these photographs are in color, and they portray a community swirling across the country, fiercely alive and creatively free, seeing sides of America that no one else gets to see.
Beseda 'brezdomec' prikliče staro črno-belo sliko zdelanega starca, prekritega s premogovim prahom, z nogami bingljajoč iz vagona, a te fotografije so v barvah in upodabljajo skupnost, ki se vrtinči prek države, divje živa in ustvarjalno svobodna; ki lahko vidi obraze Amerike, ki jih nihče drug ne more.
Like their predecessors, today's nomads travel the steel and asphalt arteries of the United States. By day, they hop freight trains, stick out their thumbs, and ride the highways with anyone from truckers to soccer moms. By night, they sleep beneath the stars, huddled together with their packs of dogs, cats and pet rats between their bodies.
Podobno kot njihovi predniki, današnji nomadi potujejo prek jeklenih in asfaltnih arterij Združenih držav. Čez dan skačejo na tovorne vlake, dvigajo palce in se vozijo po avtocestah s komerkoli, od tovornjakarjev do mam malih športnikov. Ponoči spe pod zvezdami, stisnjeni skupaj s svojimi krdeli psov, mačk in udomačenih podgan, ki ležijo ob njihovih telesih.
Some travelers take to the road by choice, renouncing materialism, traditional jobs and university degrees in exchange for a glimmer of adventure. Others come from the underbelly of society, never given a chance to mobilize upwards: foster care dropouts, teenage runaways escaping abuse and unforgiving homes.
Nekateri popotniki izberejo cesto zavestno, odrečejo se materializmu, tradicionalnim službam in univerzitetnim diplomam v zameno za kanček pustolovščine. Drugi prihajajo iz podtalja družbe, ker niso dobili priložnosti, da bi se socialno povzpeli: iz rejniških družin, najstniki, ki so pobegnili pred zlorabami in neprijaznimi domovi.
Where others see stories of privation and economic failure, travelers view their own existence through the prism of liberation and freedom. They'd rather live off of the excess of what they view as a wasteful consumer society than slave away at an unrealistic chance at the traditional American dream. They take advantage of the fact that in the United States, up to 40 percent of all food ends up in the garbage by scavenging for perfectly good produce in dumpsters and trash cans. They sacrifice material comforts in exchange for the space and the time to explore a creative interior, to dream, to read, to work on music, art and writing.
Kjer drugi vidijo zgodbe pomanjkanja in ekonomskega propada, popotniki vidijo svoj obstoj skozi prizmo osvoboditve in svobode. Raje živijo od presežkov tistega, kar vidijo kot zapravljivo potrošniško družbo, kot da bi garali za nerealno možnost uresničenja tradicionalnega ameriškega sna. Izkoriščajo dejstvo, da v Združenih državah Amerike do 40 odstotkov vse hrane konča v smeteh in brskajo za povsem dobrimi pridelki v kontejnerjih in smetnjakih. Materialno udobje žrtvujejo v zameno za prostor in čas, da raziskujejo ustvarjalno notranjost, da sanjajo, berejo, se ukvarjajo z glasbo, umetnostjo ali pisanjem.
But there are many aspects to this life that are far from idyllic. No one loses their inner demons by taking to the road. Addiction is real, the elements are real, freight trains maim and kill, and anyone who has lived on the streets can attest to the exhaustive list of laws that criminalize homeless existence. Who here knows that in many cities across the United States it is now illegal to sit on the sidewalk, to wrap oneself in a blanket, to sleep in your own car, to offer food to a stranger? I know about these laws because I've watched as friends and other travelers were hauled off to jail or received citations for committing these so-called crimes.
A mnogo vidikov takega življenja je daleč od idile. Nihče se ne reši svojih notranjih demonov, ko se odpravi na cesto. Zasvojenost je realna, elementi narave so realni, tovorni vlaki pohabljajo in ubijajo in kdorkoli je živel na cesti, lahko potrdi, da obstaja obsežen seznam zakonov, ki kriminalizirajo brezdomstvo. Kdo tu ve, da je v veliko mestih po Ameriki danes nezakonito posedati na pločniku, se zaviti v odejo, spati v svojem avtu, ponuditi hrano neznancu? Te zakone poznam, saj sem opazovala, kako so prijatelje in druge popotnike odpeljali v ječo ali pa so prejeli kazni zaradi zagrešitve teh tako imenovanih zločinov.
Many of you might be wondering why anyone would choose a life like this, under the thumb of discriminatory laws, eating out of trash cans, sleeping under bridges, picking up seasonal jobs here and there. The answer to such a question is as varied as the people that take to the road, but travelers often respond with a single word: freedom. Until we live in a society where every human is assured dignity in their labor so that they can work to live well, not only work to survive, there will always be an element of those who seek the open road as a means of escape, of liberation and, of course, of rebellion.
Mnogi se morda sprašujete, zakaj bi si kdorkoli zavestno izbral tako življenje, pod pritiskom diskriminatornih zakonov, jedel iz smetnjakov, spal pod mostovi, iskal sezonska dela tu in tam. Odgovor na to vprašanje je tako raznolik, kot so ljudje, ki gredo na cesto, a popotniki navadno odgovarjajo z eno besedo: svoboda. Dokler ne bomo živeli družbi, kjer je vsakemu človeku zagotovljeno dostojanstvo z delom, s katerim služijo za spodobno življenje in ne samo za preživetje, bo vedno obstajal del tistih, ki bodo iskali prostranstva cest, da bi pobegnili, se osvobodili in se seveda – uprli.
Thank you.
Hvala.
(Applause)
(Aplavz)