The first time I uttered a prayer was in a glass-stained cathedral.
Prvi put kada sam izustio molitvu bio sam u katedrali mutnih stakala.
I was kneeling long after the congregation was on its feet,
Klečao sam dugo nakon što je kongregacija ustala,
dip both hands into holy water,
obje sam ruke uronio u svetu vodu,
trace the trinity across my chest,
napravio znak križa na prsima,
my tiny body drooping like a question mark
moje maleno tijelo klonulo u obliku upitnika
all over the wooden pew.
preko cijele crkvene klupe.
I asked Jesus to fix me,
Molio sam Isusa da me popravi,
and when he did not answer
a kada mi nije odgovorio,
I befriended silence in the hopes that my sin would burn
prigrlio sam tišinu nadajući se da će moj grijeh spaliti
and salve my mouth would dissolve like sugar on tongue,
i zaliječiti moja usta i da će nestati kao šećer na jeziku,
but shame lingered as an aftertaste.
ali sram je ostao u ustima.
And in an attempt to reintroduce me to sanctity,
U pokušaju da me vrati svetosti,
my mother told me of the miracle I was,
majka mi je rekla da sam čudo,
said I could grow up to be anything I want.
da mogu biti što god želim.
I decided to be a boy.
Odlučio sam biti dječak.
It was cute.
Bilo je to slatko.
I had snapback, toothless grin,
Imao sam šiltericu, bezubi osmijeh,
used skinned knees as street cred,
razderana koljena,
played hide and seek with what was left of my goal.
igrao sam skrivača s onim što mi je ostalo od cilja.
I was it.
Bio sam to.
The winner to a game the other kids couldn't play,
Pobjednik u igri koju druga djeca nisu mogla igrati.
I was the mystery of an anatomy,
Bio sam zagonetka anatomije,
a question asked but not answered,
pitanje bez odgovora,
tightroping between awkward boy and apologetic girl,
hodao na granici između neprijatnog dečka i djevojke koja se opravdava,
and when I turned 12, the boy phase wasn't deemed cute anymore.
a kada sam navršio 12, dječačka faza više nije viđena kao slatka.
It was met with nostalgic aunts who missed seeing my knees in the shadow of skirts,
Nostalgičnim su tetkama nedostajala moja koljena u sjeni suknje,
who reminded me that my kind of attitude would never bring a husband home,
podsjećale su da svojim ponašanjem nikada neću pronaći muža,
that I exist for heterosexual marriage and child-bearing.
da postojim za heteroseksualni brak i rađanje djece.
And I swallowed their insults along with their slurs.
Gutao sam njihove uvrede zajedno s pogrdama.
Naturally, I did not come out of the closet.
Naravno, nisam sam izašao iz ormara.
The kids at my school opened it without my permission.
Djeca iz moje škole su ga otvorila bez dopuštenja.
Called me by a name I did not recognize,
Nazivali su me imenom koje nisam prepoznao,
said "lesbian,"
govorili "lezbijka",
but I was more boy than girl, more Ken than Barbie.
ali više sam bio dečko nego cura, više Ken nego Barbie.
It had nothing to do with hating my body,
Nisam mrzio svoje tijelo,
I just love it enough to let it go,
volio sam ga dovoljno da ga pustim,
I treat it like a house,
tretirao sam ga kao kuću,
and when your house is falling apart,
a kada vam se kuća raspada,
you do not evacuate,
ne izlazite iz nje,
you make it comfortable enough to house all your insides,
učinite ju udobnom za svoju unutrašnjost,
you make it pretty enough to invite guests over,
dovoljno ju uljepšate da možete pozvati goste,
you make the floorboards strong enough to stand on.
pod napravite dovoljno čvrstim da možete stajati na njemu.
My mother fears I have named myself after fading things.
Moja se majka brine da sam se označio stvarima koje nestaju.
As she counts the echoes left behind by Mya Hall, Leelah Alcorn, Blake Brockington.
Dok broji odjeke koje su za sobom ostavile Mya Hall, Leelah Alcorn, Blake Brockington,
She fears that I'll die without a whisper,
boji se da ću ja umrijeti bez glasa,
that I'll turn into "what a shame" conversations at the bus stop.
da ću postati temom "koja šteta" razgovora na stanicama.
She claims I have turned myself into a mausoleum,
Tvrdi da sam se pretvorio u mauzolej,
that I am a walking casket,
da sam hodajući lijes,
news headlines have turned my identity into a spectacle,
novinski su naslovi pretvorili moj identitet u spektakl,
Bruce Jenner on everyone's lips while the brutality of living in this body
svima su puna usta Brucea Jennera dok brutalnost života u ovom tijelu
becomes an asterisk at the bottom of equality pages.
postaje zvjezdica na dnu stranica o jednakosti.
No one ever thinks of us as human
Nitko nas ne smatra ljudima
because we are more ghost than flesh,
jer smo više duhovi nego meso,
because people fear that my gender expression is a trick,
jer se ljudi boje da je moje rodno izražavanje trik,
that it exists to be perverse,
da postoji zbog nastranosti,
that it ensnares them without their consent,
da ih zarobljava bez njihova pristanka,
that my body is a feast for their eyes and hands
da je moje tijelo gozba za njihove oči i ruke
and once they have fed off my queer,
i jednom kada se zasite moje neobičnosti
they'll regurgitate all the parts they did not like.
povratit će sve dijelove koji im se nisu svidjeli.
They'll put me back into the closet, hang me with all the other skeletons.
Vratit će me u ormar, objesiti pored ostalih kostura.
I will be the best attraction.
Bit ću najbolja atrakcija.
Can you see how easy it is to talk people into coffins,
Vidite li kako je lako ljude smjestiti u lijesove,
to misspell their names on gravestones.
krivo napisati njihova imena na spomenike?
And people still wonder why there are boys rotting,
A ljudi se još uvijek pitaju zašto dječaci trunu,
they go away in high school hallways
nestaju u srednjoškolskim hodnicima,
they are afraid of becoming another hashtag in a second
boje se da ne postanu još jedan hashtag,
afraid of classroom discussions becoming like judgment day
boje se rasprava u učionicama koje nalikuju sudnjem danu,
and now oncoming traffic is embracing more transgender children than parents.
a sadašnja trgovina ljudima bolje prihvaća transrodnu djecu od roditelja.
I wonder how long it will be
Pitam se kada će
before the trans suicide notes start to feel redundant,
oproštajna pisma trans osoba postati suvišna,
before we realize that our bodies become lessons about sin
kada ćemo shvatiti da nas tijela uče o grijesima
way before we learn how to love them.
puno prije nego ih naučimo voljeti.
Like God didn't save all this breath and mercy,
Kao da Bog nije spasio sve udisaje i milosrđe,
like my blood is not the wine that washed over Jesus' feet.
kao da moja krv nije vino koje zapljuskuje Isusove noge.
My prayers are now getting stuck in my throat.
Molitve mi sada zapinju u grlu.
Maybe I am finally fixed,
Možda sam konačno popravljen,
maybe I just don't care,
možda me jednostavno nije briga,
maybe God finally listened to my prayers.
možda je Bog konačno uslišio moje molitve.
Thank you. (Applause)
Hvala. (Pljesak)