At 7:45 a.m., I open the doors to a building dedicated to building, yet only breaks me down. I march down hallways cleaned up after me every day by regular janitors, but I never have the decency to honor their names. Lockers left open like teenage boys' mouths when teenage girls wear clothes that covers their insecurities but exposes everything else. Masculinity mimicked by men who grew up with no fathers, camouflage worn by bullies who are dangerously armed but need hugs. Teachers paid less than what it costs them to be here. Oceans of adolescents come here to receive lessons but never learn to swim, part like the Red Sea when the bell rings.
U 7:45 ujutru otvaram vrata zgrade posvećene građenju, ali me ona samo razara. Marširam hodnicima koje za mnom svakog dana čiste obični domari, ali nikad nemam dostojnosti da poštujem njihova imena. Ormari otvoreni poput usta tinejdžera kada devojke nose odeću koja pokriva njihove nesigurnosti ali izlaže sve ostalo. Muževnost koju imitiraju muškarci koji su odrasli bez očeva, kamuflaža koju nose siledžije naoružane do zuba ali kojima je potreban zagrljaj. Nastavnici koji su plaćeni manje nego što im treba da tu dođu. Okeani adolescenata koji ovde dođu da slušaju lekcije ali nikada ne nauče da plivaju, nestanu poput Crvenog mora kada zazvoni.
This is a training ground. My high school is Chicago, diverse and segregated on purpose. Social lines are barbed wire. Labels like "Regulars" and "Honors" resonate. I am an Honors but go home with Regular students who are soldiers in territory that owns them. This is a training ground to sort out the Regulars from the Honors, a reoccurring cycle built to recycle the trash of this system.
Ovo je poligon. Moja srednja škola je Čikago, namerno različit i odvojen. Društvene linije su bodljikava žica. Odjekuju epiteti poput "običnih" i "naprednih". Ja sam napredan ali idem kući sa običnim učenicima koji su vojnici na teritoriji koja ih poseduje. Ovo je poligon za rasvrstavanje običnih od naprednih, ciklus koji se ponavlja, napravljen da reciklira smeće ovog sistema.
Trained at a young age to capitalize, letters taught now that capitalism raises you but you have to step on someone else to get there. This is a training ground where one group is taught to lead and the other is made to follow. No wonder so many of my people spit bars, because the truth is hard to swallow. The need for degrees has left so many people frozen.
Vaspitani od mladosti da koriste velika slova, koja vas sada uče da vas kapitalizam odgaja, ali morate pregaziti nekog da dotle dođete. Ovo je poligon gde jednu grupu uče da vodi, a drugu da prati. Nije ni čudo što toliko mog naroda pljuje na mikrofonu, jer je istina teška za progutati. Potreba za diplomama zamrzla je mnogo ljudi.
Homework is stressful, but when you go home every day and your home is work, you don't want to pick up any assignments. Reading textbooks is stressful, but reading does not matter when you feel your story is already written, either dead or getting booked. Taking tests is stressful, but bubbling in a Scantron does not stop bullets from bursting.
Domaći zadaci su stresni, ali kada dođete do doma svakog dana, i vaš dom je zadatak, ne želite da radite nikakve vežbe. Čitanje udžbenika je stresno, ali čitanje nema veze kad osećate da je vaša priča već napisana ili ste mrtvi ili iza rešetaka. Testovi su stresni, ali rađenje kompjuterskih testova ne zaustavlja metke.
I hear education systems are failing, but I believe they're succeeding at what they're built to do -- to train you, to keep you on track, to track down an American dream that has failed so many of us all.
Čujem da obrazovni sistemi podbacuju, ali mislim da uspevaju u onom za šta su napravljeni - da vas obuče, drže na pravom putu, da uđu u trag američkom snu koji je izneverio toliko nas.
(Applause)
(Aplauz)