It was a Thursday, June the 23rd, 1994.
Četvrtak je, 23. jun 1994. godine.
(Sighs)
(Uzdah)
"Collect your belongings. You are free to go. When escorted outside, go directly to your car. Do not talk to reporters."
„Pokupite svoje stvari. Slobodni ste da idete. Kada vas isprate napolje, idite direktno u automobil. Ne razgovarajte sa novinarima.“
My head is spinning, my heart is racing, I can't get a breath. I just want out of there. When I get to my car, I throw everything on the back, and I just collapse into the driver's seat. "I can't do this. I can't go home to my family that I haven't seen in a week and pretend to be happy." Not even their love and support could help me at this particular time.
Vrti mi se u glavi, srce mi lupa. Ne mogu da dođem do daha. Samo želim napolje. Kada sam stigla do auta, bacam sve na zadnje sedište i prosto se rušim na vozačevo sedište. „Ne mogu to da uradim. Ne mogu da idem kući svojoj porodici koju nisam videla nedelju dana i da se pretvaram da sam srećna.“ Čak mi ni njihova ljubav i podrška nisu mogle pomoći u ovom naročitom trenutku.
We had just sentenced a man to death. Now what? Just go home and wash dishes?
Upravo smo osudili čoveka na smrt. Šta sad? Prosto da idem kući i perem sudove?
You see, in Mississippi, the death penalty is like a part of our unspoken culture. The basic logic is, if you murder someone, then you're going to receive the death penalty. So when the jury selection process took place, they asked me, "Could you, if the evidence presented justified the death penalty, could you deliver, rationally and without reservations, a penalty of death?" My answer was an astounding "yes," and I was selected as Juror Number 2.
Vidite, u Misisipiju, smrtna kazna je na neki način podrazumevani deo naše kulture. Osnovna logika kaže: ako ubijete nekoga, dobićete smrtnu kaznu. Zato, kad je otpočeo proces izbora porotnika, upitali su me: „Da li ćete moći, ukoliko priloženi dokazi opravdavaju smrtnu kaznu, da li ćete moći da donesete, racionalno i bez ustupanja, odluku o smrtnoj kazni?“ Moj odgovor je bio zaprepašćeno „da“, i ja sam odabrana kao porotnik broj dva.
The trial started. From the evidence being presented and from the pictures of the victim, my first response was, "Yes, this man is a monster, and he deserves the death penalty." For days, I sat and looked at his hands, the ones that yielded the knife, and against his pasty white skin, his eyes ... Well, he spent endless days in his cell, no sunlight, so his eyes were as black as his hair and his mustache. He was very intimidating, and there was absolutely no doubt in his guilt.
Suđenje je počelo. Na osnovu priloženih dokaza i fotografija žrtve, moja prvobitna reakcija je bila: „Da, ovaj čovek je čudovište i zaslužuje smrtnu kaznu.“ Danima sam sedela i posmatrala njegove ruke, one koje su posegnule za nožem, kao i naspram njegove bolećive bele kože, njegove oči... Proveo je beskrajne dane u svojoj ćeliji, bez sunčeve svetlosti, pa su njegove oči bile crne kao i kosa i brkovi. Izgledao je veoma zastrašujuće, i nije postojala ni najmanja sumnja u njegovu krivicu.
But regardless of his guilt, as the days passed, I began to see this monster as a human being. Something inside of me was changing that I just didn't understand. I was beginning to question myself as to whether or not I wanted to give this man the death penalty.
Međutim, bez obzira na njegovu krivicu, kako su dani prolazili, počela sam da gledam na ovo čudovište kao na ljudsko biće. Nešto u meni se menjalo i ja to prosto nisam razumela. Počela sam da se preispitujem da li zaista želim da osudim ovog čoveka na smrtnu kaznu.
Jury deliberations began, and the judge gave us jury instructions and it was to be used as a tool in how to reach a verdict. Well, using this tool only led to one decision, and that was the death penalty. I felt backed into a corner. My head and my heart were in conflict with each other, and the thought of the death penalty made me sick. However, following the judge's instructions, being a law-abiding person, I gave up. I gave up and voted along with the other 11 jurors. And there it was: our broken judicial system at work.
Počelo je većanje porotnika i sudija nam je dao uputstva za porotnike, a njih je trebalo da koristimo kao oruđe da dođemo do presude. Pa, upotreba ovog oruđa je dovela do samo jedne odluke, a to je bila smrtna kazna. Osetila sam se sateranom u ćošak. Moja glava i srce su bili u sukobu jedno s drugim, a od pomisli na smrtnu kaznu bi mi pozlilo. Međutim, prateći uputstva sudije, budući da sam osoba koja poštuje zakon, predala sam se. Predala sam se i glasala u saglasju sa 11 ostalih porotnika. I eto ga: naš pokvaren sudski sistem na delu.
So here I am in my car, and I'm wondering: How is my life ever going to be the same? My life was kids, work, church, ball games -- just your average, normal, everyday life. Now everything felt trivial. I was going down this rabbit hole. The anger, the anxiety, the guilt, the depression ... it just clung to me. I knew that my life had to resume, so I sought counseling. The counselor diagnosed me with PTSD and told me that the best way to overcome the PTSD was to talk about the trauma. However, if I talked or tried to talk about the trauma outside her office, I was shut down. No one wanted to hear about it. He was just a murderer. Get over it. It was then that I decided to become a silent survivor.
Dakle, eto me u svojim kolima i pitam se: kako će moj život ikad da bude isti ponovo? Moj život su bili deca, posao, crkva, igre loptom - prosto prosečan, normalan, svakodnevni život. Sad se sve činilo beznačajnim. Propadala sam kroz ponor. Bes, anksioznost, krivica, depresija... sve se to prosto lepilo za mene. Znala sam da moj život mora da se nastavi, pa sam posegla za savetovalištem. Savetnica mi je dijagnostikovala posttraumatski stresni poremećaj i rekla mi je da je najbolji način da ga prevaziđem da govorim o traumi. Međutim, ako bih govorila ili pokušala da govorim o traumi van njene kancelarije, ućutkivali bi me. Niko nije želeo da sluša o tome. Bio je obični ubica. Prevaziđi to. Tada sam odlučila da postanem tihi borac za opstanak.
Twelve years later, 2006, I learned that Bobby Wilcher had dropped all of his appeals, and his execution date was approaching. That was like a punch in the stomach. All of those buried feelings just started coming back. To try and find peace, I called Bobby's attorney, and I said, "Can I see Bobby before he's executed?"
Dvanaest godina kasnije, 2006. godine, saznala sam da je Bobi Vilčer odustao od svih žalbi i da se približava dan njegovog pogubljenja. To kao da me je udarilo u stomak. Sva ta zakopana osećanja su samo počela da se vraćaju. Kako bih pokušala da nađem mir, nazvala sam Bobijevog advokata i rekla: „Mogu li da vidim Bobija pre nego što ga pogube?“
Driving to the penitentiary on the day of his execution, in my mind, Bobby was going to be manic. But, surprisingly, he was very calm. And for two hours, he and I sat there and talked about life, and I got to ask him to forgive me for my hand in his death. His words to me were: "You don't have to apologize. You didn't put me here. I did this myself. But if it'll make you feel better, I forgive you."
Vozeći do zatvora na dan njegovog pogubljenja, u mom umu, Bobi je trebalo da bude maničan. Međutim, na moje iznenađenje, bio je veoma smiren. I dva sata smo on i ja sedeli i razgovarali o životu, i ja sam stigla da ga pitam da mi oprosti zbog mog udela u njegovoj smrti. Njegove reči upućene meni su glasile: „Ne moraš da se izvinjavaš. Nisi me ti smestila ovde. Sam sam to uradio. Ali ako ćeš da se osećaš bolje, opraštam ti.“
On my way home, I stopped by a restaurant and bought a margarita.
Na putu do kuće, zaustavila sam se ispred restorana i kupila margaritu.
(Laughter)
(Smeh)
I don't think I could get one big enough --
Mislim da nisu imali dovoljno veliku -
(Laughter)
(Smeh)
to try and calm down. My phone rang. It was Bobby's attorney. Within two minutes of his execution, they had given him a stay. This stay gave me time to reach out to Bobby. And as crazy as it may sound, we became friends. Three months later, he was executed by the State of Mississippi.
kako bih pokušala da se smirim. Zazvonio mi je telefon. To je bio Bobijev advokat. Na dva minuta do pogubljenja, odobrili su mu odlaganje. Ovo mi je dalo vremena da uspostavim kontakt sa Bobijem. I koliko god vam blesavo zvučalo, postali smo prijatelji. Tri meseca kasnije, pogubljen je od strane države Misisipi.
I'm here to tell you my story, because it was precisely 22 years later that I even wanted to open up enough to talk about it, when a friend encouraged me. "Hey, perhaps you need to talk to the other jurors. You've been through the same experience."
Ovde sam da bih vam ispričala svoju priču jer prošle su tačno 22 godine pre nego što sam čak i poželela da se dovoljno otvorim i pričam o tome, kada me je prijatelj ohrabrio. „Hej, možda bi trebalo da razgovaraš sa drugim porotnicima. Prošli ste kroz isto iskustvo.“
Uncertain of what I was after, I did need to talk to them. So I set out on my quest, and I actually found most of them. The first juror I met thought that Bobby got what he deserved. Another juror -- well, they just kind of regretted that it took so long to carry the sentence out. Then one juror, and I don't know what was wrong with him, but he didn't remember anything about the trial.
Iako nesigurna za čim tragam, bilo mi je potrebno da razgovaram s njima. Pa sam se zaputila u pohod i zapravo sam našla većinu njih. Prvi porotnik kog sam srela smatrao je da je Bobi dobio što je zaslužio. Drugi porotnik - pa, prosto je žalio što je trebalo toliko vremena da se izvrši kazna. A jedan porotnik, pojma nemam šta nije bilo u redu s njim, ali nije se sećao bilo čega u vezi sa suđenjem.
(Laughter)
(Smeh)
Well, I'm thinking in my mind, "Jeez, is this the response I'm gonna get from everybody else?"
Pa, razmišljam u sebi: „Isuse, da li je ovo reakcija koju ću da dobijem od svih?“
Well, thank God for Allen. Allen was a gentle soul. And when I talked to him, he was genuinely upset about our decision. And he told me about the day that the devastation really set in on him and hit him. He was listening to the radio, and the radio had a list of names of men to be executed at Parchman Penitentiary. He heard Bobby's name, and he then truly realized what he had done. And he said, "You know, I had a responsibility in that man's death." Now here it is, 20-something years later, and Allen is still dealing with that issue. And he's never told anyone about it, not even his wife. He also told me that if the State of Mississippi wanted to keep the death penalty, then hey, they needed to provide counseling for the jurors.
Hvala bogu na Alenu. Alen je bio nežna duša. I kad sam razgovarala s njim, bio je istinski potresen zbog naše odluke. I ispričao mi je za dan kada se razorni udarac ustremio na njega i udario ga. Slušao je radio i na radiju su čitali spisak imena muškaraca koji će da budu pogubljeni u zatvoru Parčman. Čuo je Bobijevo ime i tada je uistinu shvatio šta je uradio. I rekao je: „Znaš, odgovoran sam za smrt tog čoveka.“ Eto ga, više od 20 godina kasnije i Alen se i dalje bavi tim pitanjem. A nikad nikome nije rekao za to, čak ni svojoj supruzi. Takođe mi je rekao da, ukoliko država Misisipi želi da zadrži smrtnu kaznu, onda, hej, moraju da obezbede savetovalište za porotnike.
Then the next juror I met was Jane. Jane is now totally against the death penalty, And there was Bill. Bill said he had this crushing depression for weeks, and when he went back to work, his colleagues would say things to him like, "Hey, did you fry him?" To them, it was just a joke. Then there was Jon. Jon said his decision weighed on him, and it burdened him daily.
Džejn je bila sledeća porotnica s kojom sam se sastala. Džejn je sad u potpunosti protiv smrtne kazne. A tu je bio Bil. Bil je rekao kako je imao depresiju koja ga je razarala nedeljama, i kada se vratio na posao, kolege bi mu govorile stvari poput: „Hej, jesi li ga spržio?“ Njima je to bila tek šala. Potom je tu bio Džon. Džon je rekao da ga je njegova odluka slamala i opterećivala svakodnevno.
The final juror that I spoke to was Ken. Ken was the foreman of the jury. When we sat down to talk, it was apparent that he was deeply saddened by what we were required to do. He relived the day that he left the courthouse and he drove home and he went to put his key in his door and unlock it, and he said he literally broke down. He said he knew that Bobby was guilty, but the decision he made, he did not know if it was the right decision. And he said that he played it over and over in his head. Did we do the right thing? Did we do the right thing? Did we do the right thing?
Poslednji porotnik s kojim sam pričala je bio Ken. Ken je bio glavni porotnik. Kada smo seli da razgovaramo, bilo je očito da je bio duboko pogođen onim što smo bili u obavezi da uradimo. Ponovo je proživljavao dan kada je napustio sudnicu, vozio se kući, i kada je krenuo da stavi ključ u vrata i da ih otključa, kaže da je bukvalno doživeo slom. Kaže da je znao da je Bobi kriv, ali da za odluku koju je doneo nije znao da li je bila prava odluka. I kaže da je izvrteo film iznova i iznova u glavi. Da li smo ispravno postupili? Da li smo ispravno postupili? Da li smo ispravno postupili?
(Sighs)
(Uzdah)
All those years, and I finally realized that I was not the only disillusioned juror. And we talked about sharing our experience with potential jurors to give them some insight into what to expect, and to tell them do not be complacent; to know what you believe; to know where you stand and be prepared, because you don't want to walk in one morning as a juror and leave at the end of the trial feeling like a murderer.
Sve te godine, i ja sam konačno shvatila da nisam jedini razočarani porotnik. I razgovarali smo o razmeni iskustava sa potencijalnim porotnicima kako bismo im pružili nekakav uvid u to šta da očekuju i da im kažemo da ne budu pomirljivi; da znaju u šta veruju; da znaju svoje stanovište i da budu spremni, jer ne želite da ušetate jedno jutro kao porotnik i da na kraju suđenja odete osećajući se kao ubica.
Now, through this storm in my life, I did find some inspiration, and it came in the form of my granddaughters. My 14-year-old granddaughter, Maddie, was writing an essay on the death penalty for school, and she was asking me questions. Well, it dawned on me that this child was being raised in the same eye-for-an-eye culture as I was, or had been. And so I explained my experience to her this way: that I had sentenced someone to death as I served on a jury. And I asked her, "Did that make me a murderer?" She couldn't answer.
Sad, kroz ovu oluju u svom životu, otkrila sam inspiraciju, a došla je u obliku mojih unuka. Moja 14-godišnja unuka Medi je pisala školski esej o smrtnoj kazni i postavljala mi je pitanja. Pa, sinulo mi je da je ovo dete odgajano u istoj kulturi „oko za oko“ kao i ja, ili sam bila. Pa sam joj ovako objasnila moje iskustvo: osudila sam nekoga na smrt služeći u poroti. I upitala sam je: „Da li sam zbog toga ubica?“ Nije mogla da odgovori.
I knew then that this topic needed to be open for discussion. And guess what happened? I got invited to speak, just recently, in an abolitionist community. While I was there, I got a T-shirt. It says, "Stop Executions." Well, when I get home, my 16-year-old granddaughter was there, Anna, and she says, "Can I have that shirt?" Well, I looked at her dad -- her dad is my son -- and I knew that he is still dealing with this death penalty issue. So I turned around and I looked at her, and I said, "Are you gonna wear this?" So she turned and she looked at her dad, and she said, "Dad, I know how you feel, but I don't believe in the death penalty." My son looked at me, shook his head, and said, "Thanks, Mom." And I knew it wasn't a nice "Thanks, Mom."
Tada sam shvatila da ova tema mora da bude otvorena za razgovor. I pogodite šta se desilo? Nedavno su me pozvali da govorim u zajednici abolicionista. Dok sam bila tamo, dobila sam majicu sa natpisom: „Zaustavite pogubljenja“. Kad sam došla kući, moja 16-godišnja unuka Ana je bila prisutna i rekla je: „Mogu li da dobijem tu majicu?“ Pogledala sam u njenog oca - njen otac je moj sin - i znala sam da se on i dalje nosi s ovim pitanjem smrtne kazne. Pa sam se okrenula, pogledala u nju i rekla: „Da li ćeš da je nosiš?“ Okrenula se i pogledala u oca i rekla: „Tata, znam kako se osećaš, ali ja ne verujem u smrtnu kaznu.“ Sin me je pogledao, zavrteo glavom i rekao: „Hvala, mama.“ I znala sam da se nije radilo o finom „hvala, mama“.
(Laughter)
(Smeh)
So I learned that life had taught me some lessons. It taught me, if I had not served on that jury, that I would still be of the same mindset. It also gave me confidence to be able to see through the eyes of my granddaughters, that this younger generation, they're capable and they're willing to tackle these difficult social issues. And because of my experience, my granddaughters, they're now more equipped to stand on their own and to think for themselves than to rely on cultural beliefs.
Shvatila sam da me je život naučio nekim lekcijama. Naučila sam, da nisam služila u toj poroti, da bih i dalje bila istog mentalnog sklopa. To mi je takođe dalo samopouzdanje da budem u stanju da gledam kroz oči mojih unuka, da su mlađe generacije u stanju i imaju volje da se bave ovim teškim društvenim pitanjima. A zbog mog iskustva, moje unuke su sada spremnije da imaju svoj stav i da razmišljaju u svoje ime, umesto da se oslanjaju na kulturološka ubeđenja.
So: being from a conservative, Christian family from a very conservative state in the United States, I am here to tell you that the death penalty has new opponents.
Dakle: kao neko ko potiče iz konzervativne hrišćanske porodice iz veoma konzervativne države u Sjedinjenim Državama, ovde sam da vam kažem da smrtna kazna ima nove protivnike.
Thank you.
Hvala vam.
(Applause)
(Aplauz)