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.
Kao devojčica, uvek sam zamišljala da ću pobeći jednog dana. Od šeste godine, čuvala sam spakovanu odeću u torbi i konzerve hrane skrivene u dnu ormara. Postojao je dubok nemir u meni, taj iskonski strah da ću postati žrtva rutine života i dosade. Tako da mnoga moja sećanja iz detinjstva uključuju zapetljana sanjarenja gde bih ja hodala preko granica, tražila razne bobice, i susretala razne tipove neobičnih ljudi koji žive nekonvencionalni život na putu.
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.
Prošle su godine, ali mnoge avanture o kojima sam maštala u detinjstvu - putovanje i stvaranje mog puta između svetova koji nisu moji - postale su stvarnost kroz moj posao dokumentarnog fotografa. Nijedno drugo iskustvo nije bilo toliko odano mojim dečijim snovima kao življenje i snimanje života kolega lutalica širom SAD. Ovo je nomadski san, drugačija vrsta američkog sna koji žive mladi beskućnici, putnici, auto-stoperi i skitnice.
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.
Većina nas smatra skitnice kao bića iz prošlosti. Reč "beskućnik" priziva crno-belu sliku starijeg, neuglednog čoveka prekrivenog ugljem, sa nogama koje vire iz kartonske kutije, ali ove fotografije su u boji, i one prikazuju zajednicu koja putuje širom zemlje, zaista živa i kreativno slobodna, i koja vidi prizore Amerike, koje niko ne dobije priliku da vidi.
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.
Kao njihovi preci, današnji nomadi putuju čeličnim i asfaltnim venama Sjedinjenih Američkih Država. Po danu, oni se penju na teretne vozove, izbacuju palčeve i voze se autoputevima sa bilo kim, od kamiondžija, do domaćica. Po noći, spavaju pod zvezdama, sklupčani zajedno sa svojim psima, mačkama, i pripitomljenim štakorima.
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.
Neki putnici se sami odluče za život na putu, odriču se materijalizma, tradicionalnih poslova, i fakultetskih diploma radi mrvice avanture. Drugi dolaze ispod granice društva, kojima nikada nije pružena šansa da se uspinju u društvu: odbegla deca iz udomiteljskih porodica, tinejdžeri koji beže od zlostavljanja i strogih domova.
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.
Gde drugi vide priče o oskudici i društvenim padovima, putnici svoje postojanje vide kroz prizmu oslobođenja. Radije će živeti od viška odbačenog od onoga što smatraju lošim potrošačkim društvom nego da robuju nerealnim mogućnostima tradicionalnog američkog sna. Uzimaju kao prednost činjenicu da u SAD, skoro 40 odsto hrane završi u smeću, tako što traže sasvim dobre proizvode po kontejnerima i kantama za smeće. Žrtvuju materijalna dobra radi vremena i mesta da istražuju kreativnu unutrašnjost, da sanjaju, čitaju, bave se muzikom, pisanjem i umetnošću uopšte.
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.
Ali mnoge strane ovog načina života su daleko od idiličnog. Niko ne gubi poroke iz ličnosti tako što se preseli na put. Zavisnost je stvarna, pojave su stvarne, sakaćenja i ubistva na teretnim vozovima, i bilo ko, ko je živeo na ulici može posvedočiti o iscrpljujućim listama zakona koje život beskućnika svode pod kriminal. Ko ovde zna da je u mnogim gradovima širom SAD sada ilegalno sedeti na trotoarima, omotati se ćebetom, spavati u svom automobilu, ponuditi hranu strancu? Znam za te zakone jer sam gledala kako mi prijatelje i druge putnike odvode u zatvor, ili kako primaju sudske pozive jer su počinili ove takozvane zločine.
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 od vas se možda pitaju zašto bi iko odabrao ovakav način života, pod pritiskom zakona koji ih diskriminišu jedenja iz kante za smeće, spavanja pod mostovima, odrađivanja sezonskih poslova tu i tamo. Odgovora na takvo pitanje ima raznih, kao i samih ljudi koji se odluče za život na putu, ali putnici često odgovaraju samo jednom rečju: sloboda. Dok god ne budemo živeli u društvu gde je svakom čoveku osigurano dostojanstvo u njihovom radu tako da mogu da rade da dobro žive, a ne samo rade da bi preživeli, uvek će postojati deo onih koji traže otvoren put kao sredstvo bega, oslobođenja, i naravno pobune.
Thank you.
Hvala vam.
(Applause)
(Aplauz)