Having spent 18 years as a child of the state in children's homes and foster care, you could say that I'm an expert on the subject, and in being an expert, I want to let you know that being an expert does in no way make you right in light of the truth.
Provevši 18 godina kao dete države po dečjim domovima i hraniteljskim porodicama moglo bi se kazati da sam ekspert u ovoj oblasti i kao takav želim da vam ukažem na činjenicu da ako ste ekspert, to nikako ne znači da ste na putu ka istini.
If you're in care, legally the government is your parent, loco parentis. Margaret Thatcher was my mother. (Laughter) Let's not talk about breastfeeding. (Laughter)
Ako ste pod tuđom negom, pravno je vlada vaš roditelj, loco parentis. Margaret Tačer je bila moja majka. (Smeh) Hajde da ne govorimo o dojenju. (Smeh)
Harry Potter was a foster child. Pip from "Great Expectations" was adopted; Superman was a foster child; Cinderella was a foster child; Lisbeth Salander, the girl with the dragon tattoo, was fostered and institutionalized; Batman was orphaned; Lyra Belacqua from Philip Pullman's "Northern Lights" was fostered; Jane Eyre, adopted; Roald Dahl's James from "James and the Giant Peach;" Matilda; Moses -- Moses! (Laughter) Moses! (Laughter) -- the boys in Michael Morpurgo's "Friend or Foe;" Alem in Benjamin Zephaniah's "Refugee Boy;" Luke Skywalker -- Luke Skywalker! (Laughter) -- Oliver Twist; Cassia in "The Concubine of Shanghai" by Hong Ying; Celie in Alice Walker's "The Color Purple." All of these great fictional characters, all of them who were hurt by their condition, all of them who spawned thousands of other books and other films, all of them were fostered, adopted or orphaned. It seems that writers know that the child outside of family reflects on what family truly is more than what it promotes itself to be. That is, they also use extraordinary skills to deal with extraordinary situations on a daily basis.
Hari Poter je bio usvojeno dete. Pip iz „Velikih očekivanja" je bio usvojen. Supermen je bio usvojen; Pepeljuga je bila usvojeno dete; Lizbet Salander, devojka sa tetovažom zmaja, bila je pod tuđom negom i predata institucijama. Betmen je ostao siroče; Lajru Belakva iz „Severnih svetlosti" Filipa Pulmana su podigli drugi; Džejn Ejr - usvojena; Džejms iz „Džejmsa i džinovske breskve" Roalda Dala, Matilda; Mojsije, Mojsije! (Smeh) Mojsije! (Smeh) Dečaci u „Prijatelju ili neprijatelju" Majkla Morpurga, Alem iz „Dečaka izbeglice" Bendžamina Zafanija, Luk Skajvoker - Luk Skajvoker! (Smeh) Oliver Tvist; Kasija iz „Šangajske konkubine" Honga Jinga: Sili iz „Ljubičaste boje" Elis Voker. Svi ovi izmišljeni likovi, sve njih koji su bili pogođeni svojim položajem, sve njih iz kojih su nastale hiljade drugih knjiga i filmova, sve njih su podigli drugi, svi su usvojeni ili ostavljeni kao siročad. Izgleda da pisci znaju da dete koje živi van svoje porodice ukazuje na ono na čemu porodica zaista počiva više nego što ona sama pokazuje da jeste. Oni takođe poseduju neobične veštine da se svakodnevno nose sa neobičnim situacijama.
How have we not made the connection? And why have we not made the connection, between — How has that happened? — between these incredible characters of popular culture and religions, and the fostered, adopted or orphaned child in our midst? It's not our pity that they need. It's our respect. I know famous musicians, I know actors and film stars and millionaires and novelists and top lawyers and television executives and magazine editors and national journalists and dustbinmen and hairdressers, all who were looked after children, fostered, adopted or orphaned, and many of them grow into their adult lives in fear of speaking of their background, as if it may somehow weaken their standing in the foreground, as if it were somehow Kryptonite, as if it were a time bomb strapped on the inside. Children in care, who've had a life in care, deserve the right to own and live the memory of their own childhood. It is that simple.
Kako nismo uspeli da to povežemo? Kako nismo uspeli da povežemo - Kako se to dogodilo - između ovih neverovatnih ličnosti popularne kulture i religija i zbrinutog, usvojenog i napuštenog deteta u našem okruženju? Njima ne treba naše sažaljenje već naše poštovanje. Znam poznate muzičare, glumce, filmske zvezde, milionere, pisce, vrhunske advokate, televizijske producente, urednike magazina, novinare, đubretare i frizere, sve one koji su bili paženi, zbrinuti, usvojeni ili napušteni i koji su odrasli strahujući da progovore o svojoj prošlosti, kao da bi im to nekako oduzelo čvrsto tlo pod nogama, kao da im je to nekakav kriptonit, kao da su u nekakvoj vremenskoj kapsuli zarobljeni iznutra. Zbrinuta deca, o čijim je životima brinula država, zaslužuju pravo da poseduju i oživljavaju sećanje na vlastito detinjstvo. To je tako jednostavno.
My own mother — and I should say this here — she same to this country in the late '60s, and she was, you know, she found herself pregnant, as women did in the late '60s. You know what I mean? They found themselves pregnant. And she sort of, she had no idea of the context in which she'd landed.
Moja rođena majka, trebalo bi da kažem ovo ovde, došla je u ovu zemlju tokom kasnih šezdesetih i ona je ostala u drugom stanju kao što su i druge žene u kasnim šezdesetim ostajale trudne. Na neki način nije imala predstavu o okruženju u koje je dospela.
In the 1960s -- I should give you some context -- in the 1960s, if you were pregnant and you were single, you were seen as a threat to the community. You were separated from your family by the state. You were separated from your family and placed into mother and baby homes. You were appointed a social worker. The adoptive parents were lined up. It was the primary purpose of the social worker, the aim, to get the woman at her most vulnerable time in her entire life, to sign the adoption papers. So the adoption papers were signed. The mother and baby's homes were often run by nuns. The adoption papers were signed, the child was given to the adoptive parents, and the mother shipped back to her community to say that she'd been on a little break. A little break. A little break. The first secret of shame for a woman for being a woman, "a little break." The adoption process took, like, a matter of months, so it was a closed shop, you know, sealed deal, an industrious, utilitarian solution: the government, the farmer, the adopting parents, the consumer, the mother, the earth, and the child, the crop.
Tokom šezdesetih godina, približiću vam malo društvene prilike šezdesetih godina, ako ste bili trudni a sami, posmatrali su vas kao pretnju po zajednicu. Država bi vas oduzela od porodice. Bili biste oduzeti i smešteni u domove za majke i decu. Dobili biste svog socijalnog radnika. Roditelji koji su hteli da usvoje su stajali u redu. Primarna svrha socijalnog radnika, sam cilj, je bio da primora ženu u najtežem trenutku u svom životu da potpiše dokument o usvajanju. Tako se dokumentacija za usvajanje potpisivala. Domove za majke i decu su često vodile časne sestre. Dokumentacija za usvajanje bi bila potpisana, dete bi bilo predato hraniteljima, a majka bi bila vraćena u svoju zajednicu da kaže kako je bila na kratkom odsustvu. Kratko odsustvo. Kratko odsustvo. Prva tajna o sramoti za ženu zato što je žena - „kratko odsustvo". Proces usvajanja je trajao, recimo, mesecima tako da je to bio gotov posao, „industrijsko" utilitarističko rešenje: vlada - poljoprivrednik, roditelji koji usvajaju - potrošač, majka - zemlja, dete - plod.
It's kind of easy to patronize the past, to forego our responsibilities in the present. What happened then is a direct reflection of what is happening now. Everybody believed themselves to be doing the right thing by God and by the state for the big society, fast-tracking adoption.
Lako je popovati prošlosti i odbaciti naše sadašnje obaveze. Ono što se dogodilo nekad je direktan odraz onog što se događa sad. Svako ko je verovao sebi da radi pravu stvar u skladu sa voljom božjom i državnom za veliku zajednicu - munjevito usvajanje.
So anyway, she comes here, 1967, she's pregnant, and she comes from Ethiopia that was celebrating its own jubilee at the time under the Emperor Haile Selassie, and she lands months before the Enoch Powell speech, the "Rivers of Blood" speech. She lands months before the Beatles release "The White Album," months before Martin Luther King was killed. It was a summer of love if you were white. If you were black, it was a summer of hate. So she goes from Oxford, she's sent to the north of England to a mother and baby home, and appointed a social worker. It's her plan. You know, I have to say this in the Houses -- It's her plan to have me fostered for a short period of time while she studies. But the social worker, he had a different agenda. He found the foster parents, and he said to them, "Treat this as an adoption. He's yours forever. His name is Norman." (Laughter) Norman! (Laughter) Norman!
Kako god. Došla je ovde u drugom stanju 1967. godine iz Etiopije koja je proslavljala te godine jubilej vladavine cara Hajla Salasija i bila je ovde mesecima pre govora Enoha Pauela - pre govora o „Reci krvi". Bila je ovde mesecima ranije pre nego što su Bitlsi izdali „Beli album", pre nego što je Martin Luter King ubijen. Ako ste tada bili beli, to je za vas bilo leto ljubavi. Ako ste bili crni, onda je to za vas bilo leto mržnje. Tako je ona otišla iz Oksforda, bila je poslata na sever Engleske u dom za majke i decu i dobila je svog socijalnog radnika. To je bio njen plan. Znate, moram to reći u parlamentu - planirala je da me udomi na vrlo kratko vreme dok je studirala. Ali je socijalni radnik imao drugačija pravila. Pronašao je hraniteljsku porodicu i kazao im: "Smatrajte ovo usvajanjem. Vaš će biti zauvek. Njegovo ime je Norman." (Smeh) Norman! (Smeh) Norman!
So they took me. I was a message, they said. I was a sign from God, they said. I was Norman Mark Greenwood. Now, for the next 11 years, all I know is that this woman, this birth woman, should have her eyes scratched out for not signing the adoption papers. She was an evil woman too selfish to sign, so I spent those 11 years kneeling and praying. I tried praying. I swear I tried praying. "God, can I have a bike for Christmas?" But I would always answer myself, "Yes, of course you can." (Laughter) And then I was supposed to determine whether that was the voice of God or it was the voice of the Devil. And it turns out I've got the Devil inside of me. Who knew? (Laughter)
Tako su me uzeli. Ja sam bio poruka, kako su rekli, bio sam znak od Boga. Ja sam bio Norman Mark Grinvud. Za narednih jedanaest godina, sve što znam je da je ta žena, rođena majka, trebalo bi da iskopa svoje oči zato što nije potpisala dokumentaciju o usvajanju. Bila je zla žena, previše sebična da bi ih potpisala, tako da sam proveo tih 11 godina klečeći i moleći se. Pokušao sam da se molim. Kunem se da jesam. „Gospode, da li mogu da dobijem bicikl za Božić?" Ali bih uvek odgovarao sebi: „Da, naravno da možeš." ( Smeh) Onda je trebalo da odredim da li taj glas dolazi od Boga ili od đavola. Ispostavilo se da đavo obitava u meni. Ko je to znao? (Smeh)
So anyway, two years sort of passed, and they had a child of their own, and then another two years passed, and they had another child of their own, and then another time passed and they had another child that they called an accident, which I thought was an unusual name. (Laughter) And I was on the cusp of, sort of, adolescence, so I was starting to take biscuits from the tin without asking. I was starting to stay out a little bit late, etc., etc. Now, in their religiosity, in their naivete, my mom and dad, which I believed them to be forever, as they said they were, my mom and dad conceived that I had the Devil inside of me.
Kako god, dve godine su nekako prošle, a oni su imali svoje dete, a onda su prošle još dve godine, a oni su imali drugo dete. Nakon toga je neko vreme prošlo, a oni su imali dete koje su nazivali slučajnošću, za šta sam mislio da je neobično ime. (Smeh) Ja sam tada bio na granici adolescentnosti tako da sam počeo da uzimam kolačiće iz posude bez pitanja. Počeo sam da ostajem van kuće do kasno i slično. Sad, u religioznosti i naivnosti su moji mama i tata, za šta sam verovao da će uvek tako biti, kako su sami kazali, mislili da đavo obitava u nojim grudima.
And what -- I should say this here, because this is how they engineered my leaving. They sat me at a table, my foster mom, and she said to me, "You don't love us, do you?" At 11 years old. They've had three other children. I'm the fourth. The third was an accident.
I šta - treba da to ispričam ovde zato što je to način na koji su oni režirali moj odlazak. Seli smo za sto i moja druga majka me je pitala: „Ti nas ne voliš, zar ne?" Bilo mi je tad 11 godina. Imali su još troje dece Ja sam bio četvrto, treće-slučajnost.
And I said, "Yeah, of course I do." Because you do.
Odgovorio sam: „Naravno da vas volim zato što vi volite mene."
My foster mother asked me to go away to think about love and what it is and to read the Scriptures and to come back tomorrow and give my most honest and truthful answer. So this was an opportunity. If they were asking me whether I loved them or not, then I mustn't love them, which led me to the miracle of thought that I thought they wanted me to get to. "I will ask God for forgiveness and His light will shine through me to them. How fantastic." This was an opportunity. The theology was perfect, the timing unquestionable, and the answer as honest as a sinner could get.
Ona me je zamolila da odem i razmislim o ljubavi, kao i o tome šta je to i da čitam biblijske zapise kako bih se vratio sutra i dao svoj najčasniji i najiskreniji odgovor. Ovo je bila prilika. Ako su me već pitali da li ih volim ili ne, onda ih ne smem voleti, što će me dovesti do svetlosti uma do kog su oni hteli da dospem. „Zamoliću Gospoda za oproštaj i on će mi osvetliti put do njih. Stvarno fantastično." Ovo je bila prilika. Uverenja su bila savršena, vreme za ovo neupitno, a odgovor častan koliko može da ga da grešnik.
"I mustn't love you," I said to them. "But I will ask God for forgiveness."
„Ja vas ne smem voleti", kazao sam im, „ali ću moliti boga za oproštaj."
"Because you don't love us, Norman, clearly you've chosen your path."
„S obzirom na to da nas ne voliš, Normane, jasno je da si sam odabrao svoj put".
Twenty-four hours later, my social worker, this strange man who used to visit me every couple of months, he's waiting for me in the car as I say goodbye to my parents. I didn't say goodbye to anybody, not my mother, my father, my sisters, my brothers, my aunts, my uncles, my cousins, my grandparents, nobody. On the way to the children's home, I started to ask myself, "What's happened to me?" It's not that I'd had the rug pulled from beneath me as much as the entire floor had been taken away.
Dvadeset četiri časa kasnije me je moj socijalni radnik, čovek koji me je posećivao svakih nekoliko meseci, čekao u svojim kolima dok sam se pozdravljao sa roditeljima. Nisam rekao doviđenja nikome, ni svojoj majci, ni ocu, sestrama, braći, tetkama, stričevima, rođacima, babi i dedi, nikome. Na putu za dom sam upitao sebe: „Šta mi se to dogodilo?" Nije kao da su izvukli tepih ispod mene, koliko deluje da je ceo sprat otrgnut.
When I got to the — For the next four, five years, I was held in four different children's homes. On the third children's home, at 15, I started to rebel, and what I did was, I got three tins of paint, Airfix paint that you use for models, and I was -- it was a big children's home, big Victorian children's home -- and I was in a little turret at the top of it, and I poured them, red, yellow and green, the colors of Africa, down the tiles. You couldn't see it from the street, because the home was surrounded by beech trees.
Kada sam otišao odatle, narednih četiri ili pet godina sam proveo u četiri različita doma. Kada sam bio u svom trećem domu, sa petnaest godina sam počeo da se bunim i to sam činio tako što sam nabavio tri konzerve sa farbom, „Erfiks" koja se koristi za modele. Radilo se o velikoj dečijoj kući, velikoj viktorijanskoj dečijoj kući, a ja sam bio u malenoj kupoli na njenom vrhu i izlio sam boje preko crepova bojama Afrike: crvenom, zelenom i žutom. To se nije moglo videti sa ulice zato što je dom bio okružen bukvama.
For doing this, I was incarcerated for a year in an assessment center which was actually a remand center. It was a virtual prison for young people.
Zbog ovoga sam bio zatvoren na godinu dana u centru za preispitivanje koji je bio u stvari pritvor. To je bio virtuelni zatvor za mlade ljude. Uzgred rečeno, socijalni radnik mi je
By the way, years later, my social worker said that I should never have been put in there. I wasn't charged for anything. I hadn't done anything wrong. But because I had no family to inquire about me, they could do anything to me.
pre nekoliko godina rekao da nikada nije trebalo da budem tamo. Bio sam bespravno okrivljen. Nisam uradio ništa loše. Ali s obzirom na to da nisam imao porodicu koja bi se raspitivala o meni, oni su mogli da mi urade bilo šta.
I'm 17 years old, and they had a padded cell. They would march me down corridors in last-size order. They -- I was put in a dormitory with a confirmed Nazi sympathizer. All of the staff were ex-police -- interesting -- and ex-probation officers. The man who ran it was an ex-army officer. Every time I had a visit by a person who I did not know who would feed me grapes, once every three months, I was strip-searched. That home was full of young boys who were on remand for things like murder. And this was the preparation that I was being given after 17 years as a child of the state.
Bio sam sedamnaestogodišnjak, a oni su imali posebnu ćeliju za mentalno obolele. Gurali su me kroz hodnike u dugim redovima, Bio sam u spavaonici sa poznatim sledbenikom nacizma. Svi zaposleni su bili bivši policajci ili, zanimljivo, nadzornici uslovne kazne. Čovek koji je upravljao domom je bio bivši vojni oficir. Svaki put kada bi me posetila osoba koju nisam poznavao i koja me je hranila grožđem svaka tri meseca, bio bih pretresen do gole kože. Dom je bio pun mladića koji su bili u pritvoru zbog stvari poput ubistva. I to je bila priprema koju sam dobio nakon sedamnaest godina života državnog deteta.
I have to tell this story. I have to tell it, because there was no one to put two and two together.
Moram da vam ispričam ovu priču. Moram da je ispričam, zato što nema nikog ko će sabrati dva i dva.
I slowly became aware that I knew nobody that knew me for longer than a year. See, that's what family does. It gives you reference points. I'm not defining a good family from a bad family. I'm just saying that you know when your birthday is by virtue of the fact that somebody tells you when your birthday is, a mother, a father, a sister, a brother, an aunt, an uncle, a cousin, a grandparent. It matters to someone, and therefore it matters to you. Understand, I was 14 years old, tucked away in myself, into myself, and I wasn't touched either, physically touched.
Polako sam postao svestan da nisam znao nikoga ko je poznavao mene duže od godinu dana. Vidite, to je uticaj porodice. Ona vam daje osećaj vrednosti. Ne poredim dobre i loše porodice. Samo kažem da znate kada vam je rođendan iz same činjenice da postoji neko da vam kaže da vam je rođendan. Majka, otac, sestra, brat, tetka, stric, rođak, deda ili baba. To nekom znači tako da to znači i vama, Shvatite, imao sam 14 godina i bio sam uvučen u sebe, i nisam bio dirnut uopšte, čak ni fizički.
I'm reporting back. I'm reporting back simply to say that when I left the children's home I had two things that I wanted to do. One was to find my family, and the other was to write poetry. In creativity I saw light. In the imagination I saw the endless possibility of life, the endless truth, the permanent creation of reality, the place where anger was an expression in the search for love, a place where dysfunction is a true reaction to untruth.
Izveštavam. Izveštavam da bih jednostavno rekao da su postojale dve stvari koje sam želeo da uradim kada sam napuštao dom. Prva je bila da pronađem svoju porodicu, a druga je bila da pišem poeziju. U kreativnosti sam pronašao svetlost. U mašti sam pronašao beskonačnu mogućnost življenja, beskonačnu istinu, trajnu kreaciju stvarnosti, mesto gde bes predstavlja izraz u potrazi za ljubavlju, mesto gde disfunkcija predstavlja istinsku reakciju na neistinu.
I've just got to say it to you all: I found all of my family in my adult life. I spent all of my adult life finding them, and I've now got a fully dysfunctional family just like everybody else.
Treba da vam kažem samo sledeće: pronašao sam celu svoju porodicu u svoje zrelo doba. Potrošio sam ga celog tragajući za njima Sada imam potpuno nefunkcionalnu porodicu kao i svi drugi.
But I'm reporting back to you to say quite simply that you can define how strong a democracy is by how its government treats its child. I don't mean children. I mean the child of the state. Thanks very much. It's been an honor. (Applause) (Applause)
Ali obraćam se da bih vam rekao sasvim jednostavno da možete proceniti koliko je demokratsko društvo snažno po tome kako se njena vlast ophodi prema svom detetu. Ne mislim na decu nego na državno dete. Mnogo vam hvala. Bila mi je čast. (Aplauz) (Aplauz)