I was a blue-eyed, chubby-cheeked five-year-old when I joined my family on the picket line for the first time. My mom made me leave my dolls in the minivan. I'd stand on a street corner in the heavy Kansas humidity, surrounded by a few dozen relatives, with my tiny fists clutching a sign that I couldn't read yet: "Gays are worthy of death." This was the beginning.
那時我是個碧眼豐頰的五歲小孩, 第一次跟著家人一起去示威抗議。 我媽媽要我把洋娃娃留在休旅車上。 我站在悶濕的堪薩斯街角, 幾十個親戚圍繞在身邊, 我的拳頭緊握著 一個我還看不懂的示威牌: 「同性戀該死。」 那就是開端。
Our protests soon became a daily occurrence and an international phenomenon, and as a member of Westboro Baptist Church, I became a fixture on picket lines across the country. The end of my antigay picketing career and life as I knew it, came 20 years later, triggered in part by strangers on Twitter who showed me the power of engaging the other.
我們的抗議很快就變成日常事件, 以及國際注目的焦點, 身為威斯特布路浸信會的一員, 我成為到全國示威的固定班底。 我反同性戀的示威生涯, 以及我熟悉的那種生活, 在 20 年後結束, 有一部分是因為推特上的陌生人, 他們讓我看見與他人互動的力量。
In my home, life was framed as an epic spiritual battle between good and evil. The good was my church and its members, and the evil was everyone else. My church's antics were such that we were constantly at odds with the world, and that reinforced our otherness on a daily basis. "Make a difference between the unclean and the clean," the verse says, and so we did. From baseball games to military funerals, we trekked across the country with neon protest signs in hand to tell others exactly how "unclean" they were and exactly why they were headed for damnation. This was the focus of our whole lives. This was the only way for me to do good in a world that sits in Satan's lap. And like the rest of my 10 siblings, I believed what I was taught with all my heart, and I pursued Westboro's agenda with a special sort of zeal.
在我家, 生活被框架成善惡間的 偉大屬靈爭戰。 善的是我的教會與教友, 惡的則是其他所有人。 我的教會古怪的論點是, 我們是不屬這世界的, 而那每天都在 加深我們與別人的不同。 「要把潔淨的和不潔淨的 都分別出來。」 經上這麼說, 我們就如此行。 從棒球比賽到國軍葬禮, 我們全國旅行尾隨在後, 舉著閃亮的示威牌, 告訴別人他們有多「不潔淨」, 以及為什麼他們將被定罪。 這是我們一生的重點。 這是我在撒但懷抱的世界中 唯一能做的善事。 就像我其他十位手足, 我由衷相信我所受的教導, 而我也以特別火熱的心 追求威斯特布路的計畫。
In 2009, that zeal brought me to Twitter. Initially, the people I encountered on the platform were just as hostile as I expected. They were the digital version of the screaming hordes I'd been seeing at protests since I was a kid. But in the midst of that digital brawl, a strange pattern developed. Someone would arrive at my profile with the usual rage and scorn, I would respond with a custom mix of Bible verses, pop culture references and smiley faces. They would be understandably confused and caught off guard, but then a conversation would ensue. And it was civil -- full of genuine curiosity on both sides. How had the other come to such outrageous conclusions about the world?
2009 年,這份火熱把我帶到推特。 一開始,我在那個平台上遇到的人 就像我預期般的不友善。 他們就是我從小在示威裡看到的 網路版叫囂者。 但是在這片數位世界的吶喊中, 發展出一個奇特的模式。 有人會在我的版上 留下憤怒與蔑視的話, 我就會用一段混合著 聖經經文、流行文化 及笑臉的文字回應。 你可以理解他們會覺得 有點糊塗、措手不及, 然後對話就會隨之開展。 這很文明 ── 兩邊都充滿了純粹的好奇心。 另一邊的人怎麼會對這世界 做出這麼怪的結論?
Sometimes the conversation even bled into real life. People I'd sparred with on Twitter would come out to the picket line to see me when I protested in their city. A man named David was one such person. He ran a blog called "Jewlicious," and after several months of heated but friendly arguments online, he came out to see me at a picket in New Orleans. He brought me a Middle Eastern dessert from Jerusalem, where he lives, and I brought him kosher chocolate and held a "God hates Jews" sign.
有時候對話還會在真實生活上演。 在推特上與我爭論互罵的人 會到我的示威地點來看我, 如果我正好在他們的城市裡。 一位名叫大衛的男士就是其中之一。 他有個部落格叫「猶太真妙」, 在數個月激烈但友善的網上辯論後, 他跑出來到我在 紐奧良的示威地點看我。 他從住的地方耶路撒冷 帶了一種中東點心給我, 而我帶了一盒符合猶太教規 潔淨認證的巧克力給他, 手上還拿著「神恨猶太人」的標牌。
(Laughter)
(笑聲)
There was no confusion about our positions, but the line between friend and foe was becoming blurred. We'd started to see each other as human beings, and it changed the way we spoke to one another.
我們的立場壁壘分明, 但是彼此之間的 敵友界線卻愈來愈模糊。 我們以同而為人的觀點來展開碰面, 這也改變我們彼此交談的態度。
It took time, but eventually these conversations planted seeds of doubt in me. My friends on Twitter took the time to understand Westboro's doctrines, and in doing so, they were able to find inconsistencies I'd missed my entire life. Why did we advocate the death penalty for gays when Jesus said, "Let he who is without sin cast the first stone?" How could we claim to love our neighbor while at the same time praying for God to destroy them? The truth is that the care shown to me by these strangers on the internet was itself a contradiction. It was growing evidence that people on the other side were not the demons I'd been led to believe.
這要花點時間, 但最終這些對話 在我的心中種下懷疑的種子。 我在推特上的朋友花時間 了解威斯特布路的教義, 也因為這樣, 他們能找到我一輩子 都沒看到的矛盾點。 為什麼我們強烈主張 同性戀要判死刑, 耶穌卻說「你們中間誰是沒有罪的, 誰就可以先拿石頭打她」? 我們怎麼能宣稱我們愛自己的鄰舍, 卻在同時禱告神摧毀他們? 真相是這些人在網路上 對我顯出的關心, 本身就是一場矛盾。 愈來愈多的證據顯示 另一邊的人並不是 我被教導相信的惡魔。
These realizations were life-altering. Once I saw that we were not the ultimate arbiters of divine truth but flawed human beings, I couldn't pretend otherwise. I couldn't justify our actions -- especially our cruel practice of protesting funerals and celebrating human tragedy. These shifts in my perspective contributed to a larger erosion of trust in my church, and eventually it made it impossible for me to stay.
這樣的領悟改變了我的人生。 一旦我看到我們並不是 神聖真理的終極審判者, 而是不完美的人類, 我再也不能假裝下去。 我再也無法把我們的行動合理化── 特別是我們抗議葬禮的殘酷行動, 以及慶祝人類的悲劇。 這些自身觀點的改變, 大舉侵蝕我對所屬教會的信任, 最終讓我無法再待下去。
In spite of overwhelming grief and terror, I left Westboro in 2012. In those days just after I left, the instinct to hide was almost paralyzing. I wanted to hide from the judgement of my family, who I knew would never speak to me again -- people whose thoughts and opinions had meant everything to me. And I wanted to hide from the world I'd rejected for so long -- people who had no reason at all to give me a second chance after a lifetime of antagonism. And yet, unbelievably, they did.
壟罩在悲傷與害怕之下, 我於 2012 年離開威斯特布路。 剛離開的時候, 想要躲起來的本能幾乎要癱瘓我。 我想要從家人的批判聲中躲起來, 我知道他們這一輩子 都不會再跟我說話 ── 而他們的想法及意見 對我卻意味著一切。 我也想從我拒絕已久的 世界中藏起來 ── 這些人沒有任何道理 要給我第二次機會, 因我們已經敵對了這麼久。 然而,不可置信的是, 他們給了。
The world had access to my past because it was all over the internet -- thousands of tweets and hundreds of interviews, everything from local TV news to "The Howard Stern Show" -- but so many embraced me with open arms anyway. I wrote an apology for the harm I'd caused, but I also knew that an apology could never undo any of it. All I could do was try to build a new life and find a way somehow to repair some of the damage. People had every reason to doubt my sincerity, but most of them didn't. And -- given my history, it was more than I could've hoped for -- forgiveness and the benefit of the doubt. It still amazes me.
這個世界看得到我的過去, 因為網路上記錄了所有── 成千上萬的推文,數以百計的訪談, 從地方電視台到 全國的「霍華史登秀」── 卻還是有這麼多人張開膀臂擁抱我。 我寫了篇文章為我造成的傷害賠罪, 但是我也知道一篇道歉文 並不能消彌什麼。 我能做的就是試著建立新生活, 找個方法彌補過去的傷害。 他們有理由懷疑我的誠意, 但是大部分的人都沒有懷疑。 而且, 考慮到我的歷史, 這真的超過我所求的 ── 饒恕與寧願相信我。 這仍然讓我驚訝。
I spent my first year away from home adrift with my younger sister, who had chosen to leave with me. We walked into an abyss, but we were shocked to find the light and a way forward in the same communities we'd targeted for so long. David, my "Jewlicious" friend from Twitter, invited us to spend time among a Jewish community in Los Angeles. We slept on couches in the home of a Hasidic rabbi and his wife and their four kids -- the same rabbi that I'd protested three years earlier with a sign that said, "Your rabbi is a whore." We spent long hours talking about theology and Judaism and life while we washed dishes in their kosher kitchen and chopped vegetables for dinner. They treated us like family. They held nothing against us, and again I was astonished.
我離家的第一年 和我的妹妹四處流浪, 她選擇跟我一起離開。 我們走進一個黑暗的深淵, 但是我們很驚訝地發現 帶領我們前進的光及道路, 竟然來自我們許久以來 一直攻擊的同一個社群。 大衛, 我在推特上交到的妙猶太朋友, 邀請我們待在一個 位於洛杉磯的猶太社區。 我們睡在一對哈西迪派 猶太拉比夫婦家的沙發上, 他們有四個小孩 ── 三年前我曾對這位拉比抗議過, 我舉牌說「你們的拉比是娼妓!」 我們花了好長的時間談論 猶太教的神學及生活, 同時我們也在他們符合 猶太教義的潔淨廚房洗碗, 切菜準備晚餐。 他們待我們就像家人。 他們並不責難我們, 我再次感到驚訝。
That period was full of turmoil, but one part I've returned to often is a surprising realization I had during that time -- that it was a relief and a privilege to let go of the harsh judgments that instinctively ran through my mind about nearly every person I saw. I realized that now I needed to learn. I needed to listen.
那段時間充滿了混亂, 但是我常常提到的一點, 是在那段期間意外領悟到的一件事: 那是一種解脫及恩典, 我再也不用對 幾乎我看到的每一個人, 直覺地從心中發出嚴厲批判。 我領悟到我需要學習。 我需要傾聽。
This has been at the front of my mind lately, because I can't help but see in our public discourse so many of the same destructive impulses that ruled my former church. We celebrate tolerance and diversity more than at any other time in memory, and still we grow more and more divided. We want good things -- justice, equality, freedom, dignity, prosperity -- but the path we've chosen looks so much like the one I walked away from four years ago. We've broken the world into us and them, only emerging from our bunkers long enough to lob rhetorical grenades at the other camp. We write off half the country as out-of-touch liberal elites or racist misogynist bullies. No nuance, no complexity, no humanity. Even when someone does call for empathy and understanding for the other side, the conversation nearly always devolves into a debate about who deserves more empathy. And just as I learned to do, we routinely refuse to acknowledge the flaws in our positions or the merits in our opponent's. Compromise is anathema. We even target people on our own side when they dare to question the party line. This path has brought us cruel, sniping, deepening polarization, and even outbreaks of violence. I remember this path. It will not take us where we want to go.
最近這件事一直在我的心中掛懷, 因為我實在不能不看見 在公眾演講中, 充斥著太多破壞性的衝動行事, 就像我的前教會一樣。 我們從沒有像現在一樣 如此歌頌著包容心與多樣化, 然而我們卻愈來愈分裂。 我們想要好的東西 ── 正義、平等、自由、尊嚴、繁榮── 然而我們選擇的路徑 卻更像我在四年前 所選擇離開的道路。 我們把世界分成我們與他們, 只有要對另一個陣營進行 言語的轟炸攻擊時, 才會從自己的地堡中探出身來。 我們大筆一揮,就把一半的國家寫成 不知民間疾苦的自由派菁英, 或是有種族偏見、厭惡女性的霸凌。 沒有細分、沒有複雜性、沒有人性。 即使有人喊出對另一方 要有同理心及了解, 對話幾乎都會變成 辯論誰該得到更多同理心。 就像我學到的, 我們也一直拒絕承認自己的不完美, 或是敵對方的優點。 妥協該受咒詛。 我們甚至攻擊自己人, 因為他們膽敢質問政策路線。 這條路為我們帶來殘酷、 抨擊,加深兩極化, 甚至暴力相向。 我還記得這條路。 它不會帶我們達到目的。
What gives me hope is that we can do something about this. The good news is that it's simple, and the bad news is that it's hard. We have to talk and listen to people we disagree with. It's hard because we often can't fathom how the other side came to their positions. It's hard because righteous indignation, that sense of certainty that ours is the right side, is so seductive. It's hard because it means extending empathy and compassion to people who show us hostility and contempt. The impulse to respond in kind is so tempting, but that isn't who we want to be. We can resist. And I will always be inspired to do so by those people I encountered on Twitter, apparent enemies who became my beloved friends. And in the case of one particularly understanding and generous guy, my husband. There was nothing special about the way I responded to him. What was special was their approach. I thought about it a lot over the past few years and I found four things they did differently that made real conversation possible. These four steps were small but powerful, and I do everything I can to employ them in difficult conversations today.
我之所以還懷抱希望, 是因為我們能為之做點什麼。 好消息是它很簡單, 壞消息是它很難。 我們必須與意見相左的人 對話及聆聽。 這很難,因為我們經常無法了解 另一邊的人怎麼會有這樣的立場。 這很難,因為義憤填膺, 我們的自以為是, 是如此難以抗拒。 這很難,因為這意味著 我們要展示出同理與同情, 對象卻是向自己顯現 敵意和蔑視的人。 要顯露善意的衝動是如此誘人, 然而我們不想成為那樣的人。 我們可以抗拒。 在推特上所遇到的人 總是啟發著我這麼做, 表面上看似敵對的人 卻變成我心愛的朋友。 有一位特別諒解又很寬大的人, 就是我的丈夫。 我回應他的方式一點都不特別。 特別的是他們對待我的方法。 過去幾年我常常在想這件事, 我發現有四件事他們做得很不一樣, 讓真正的對話成為可能。 這四個步驟很小,但是很有力, 在現今棘手困難的對談中, 我盡其所能地努力實踐它們。
The first is don't assume bad intent. My friends on Twitter realized that even when my words were aggressive and offensive, I sincerely believed I was doing the right thing. Assuming ill motives almost instantly cuts us off from truly understanding why someone does and believes as they do. We forget that they're a human being with a lifetime of experience that shaped their mind, and we get stuck on that first wave of anger, and the conversation has a very hard time ever moving beyond it. But when we assume good or neutral intent, we give our minds a much stronger framework for dialogue.
第一就是不要假設對方的意圖不好。 我在推特上的朋友明白 即使我的詞語激進、帶著攻擊性, 我是真的相信我在做對的事。 假設動機不良幾乎立即切斷機會 去了解他們為什麼相信自己所為。 我們忘記了他們也是人, 他們一生的經歷塑造了他們的想法, 而我們卻卡在自己第一波的憤怒中, 使彼此的對話很難超過這種反應。 但是如果我們假設他們的 意圖良善或是中立, 我們的頭腦就架構出 更適合對話的方式。
The second is ask questions. When we engage people across ideological divides, asking questions helps us map the disconnect between our differing points of view. That's important because we can't present effective arguments if we don't understand where the other side is actually coming from and because it gives them an opportunity to point out flaws in our positions. But asking questions serves another purpose; it signals to someone that they're being heard. When my friends on Twitter stopped accusing and started asking questions, I almost automatically mirrored them. Their questions gave me room to speak, but they also gave me permission to ask them questions and to truly hear their responses. It fundamentally changed the dynamic of our conversation.
第二是要問問題。 與意識形態相左的人交手時, 問問題會幫助我們 把兩方的歧見連起來。 這很重要,因為如果我們 不了解對方真正的來意, 我們就無法提出有效的論據; 而且這也讓他們有機會指出 我們立場的缺陷之處。 但是問問題還有另一個目的: 它告訴對方我們在聽。 我在推特上的朋友停止控訴 並開始問問題後, 我幾乎自動模仿他們。 他們的問題讓我有空間說話, 但是他們也允許我對他們問問題, 也很認真地聽他們的反應。 這從根本改變了我們對話的動態。
The third is stay calm. This takes practice and patience, but it's powerful. At Westboro, I learned not to care how my manner of speaking affected others. I thought my rightness justified my rudeness -- harsh tones, raised voices, insults, interruptions -- but that strategy is ultimately counterproductive. Dialing up the volume and the snark is natural in stressful situations, but it tends to bring the conversation to an unsatisfactory, explosive end. When my husband was still just an anonymous Twitter acquaintance, our discussions frequently became hard and pointed, but we always refused to escalate. Instead, he would change the subject. He would tell a joke or recommend a book or gently excuse himself from the conversation. We knew the discussion wasn't over, just paused for a time to bring us back to an even keel. People often lament that digital communication makes us less civil, but this is one advantage that online conversations have over in-person ones. We have a buffer of time and space between us and the people whose ideas we find so frustrating. We can use that buffer. Instead of lashing out, we can pause, breathe, change the subject or walk away, and then come back to it when we're ready.
第三是保持冷靜。 這要練習及耐心, 但這很有力。 在威斯特布路,我學會不去在乎 自己的言行對他人的影響。 我想我的自以為義合理化了無禮── 尖刻的語氣、提高的聲量、 侮辱、插嘴 ── 但是這種策略最終適得其反。 在壓力大的情況下我們很自然 會提高聲量及加重尖酸話語, 但這會使對話以不滿及暴躁結束。 當我的丈夫在推特上 還是個匿名的網友時, 我們的討論經常變的嚴酷尖銳, 但是我們總是拒絕升高戰事。 他反而會改變話題。 他會說個笑話或推薦一本書, 或是很委婉的找個理由離開對話。 我們知道討論還沒結束, 只是暫停一下,讓我們回穩。 大家常常悲嘆數位溝通 讓我們變得不文明, 但是這也是網路對話 相較於面對面的好處之一, 當我們發現對方提出 令我們沮喪的想法和觀點時, 我們會有緩衝的時間與空間, 我們可以運用那種緩衝。 與其破口大罵, 我們可以暫停、喘口氣, 改變話題或離開, 然後在我們覺得準備好時回來。
And finally ... make the argument. This might seem obvious, but one side effect of having strong beliefs is that we sometimes assume that the value of our position is or should be obvious and self-evident, that we shouldn't have to defend our positions because they're so clearly right and good that if someone doesn't get it, it's their problem -- that it's not my job to educate them. But if it were that simple, we would all see things the same way. As kind as my friends on Twitter were, if they hadn't actually made their arguments, it would've been so much harder for me to see the world in a different way. We are all a product of our upbringing, and our beliefs reflect our experiences. We can't expect others to spontaneously change their own minds. If we want change, we have to make the case for it.
最後 ── 還是要提出論證。 這聽起來理所當然, 但是有強烈信念的副作用之一, 就是我們有時候假設 我們所持立場的價值觀, 是或應該是顯而易見、不言而喻, 我們不需要為自己的立場辯護, 因為它們是如此地正確與良善, 如果有人不懂,那是他們的問題── 那不是我的職責去教育他們。 但是如果事情有那麼簡單, 我們早就用同樣的方法看事情了。 就像我在推特上的益友一樣, 如果他們沒有真的提出論據, 對我而言用不同的眼光 看世界會更加困難。 我們都是教養出來的產物, 我們的信念反映了自己的經歷。 我們不能期望別人能自動改變想法。 如果我們想改變, 我們必須為之提出解釋。
My friends on Twitter didn't abandon their beliefs or their principles -- only their scorn. They channeled their infinitely justifiable offense and came to me with pointed questions tempered with kindness and humor. They approached me as a human being, and that was more transformative than two full decades of outrage, disdain and violence. I know that some might not have the time or the energy or the patience for extensive engagement, but as difficult as it can be, reaching out to someone we disagree with is an option that is available to all of us. And I sincerely believe that we can do hard things, not just for them but for us and our future. Escalating disgust and intractable conflict are not what we want for ourselves, or our country or our next generation.
我在推特上的朋友 沒有放棄自己的信念或原則 ── 只有放棄他們的責難。 他們將自己極其正當的攻擊, 化作帶著好心及幽默的 尖銳問題來問我。 他們以人本的角度與我溝通, 這樣的改變力量 比整整二十年的憤怒、 鄙視和暴力更大。 我知道有些人可能沒有 時間或精力或耐心 更廣泛地去參與, 但是無論多困難, 與持反對意見的人接觸, 是我們所有人都能做的事。 我衷心相信我們能做困難的事, 不只是為了他們, 也為了我們及未來。 加劇厭惡感及棘手的衝突 不是我們想要的, 也不是我們國家 或下一代想要的。
My mom said something to me a few weeks before I left Westboro, when I was desperately hoping there was a way I could stay with my family. People I have loved with every pulse of my heart since even before I was that chubby-cheeked five-year-old, standing on a picket line holding a sign I couldn't read. She said, "You're just a human being, my dear, sweet child." She was asking me to be humble -- not to question but to trust God and my elders. But to me, she was missing the bigger picture -- that we're all just human beings. That we should be guided by that most basic fact, and approach one another with generosity and compassion.
在我離開威斯特布路的幾星期前, 媽媽曾對我說過一些事, 當時我死命盼望 我還有辦法能留在家裡。 他們是我真心全意摯愛的家人, 在我是那個碧眼豐頰的五歲小孩, 拿著我還看不懂的牌子 站著示威前就如此了。 她說:「妳只是個人, 我可愛的乖孩子。」 她要我謙卑 ── 不要質問,只要相信神及長老就好。 但是對我而言,她只是以管窺天── 她沒看到我們全都只是人。 她沒看到我們應該 受那最基本的事實引導, 用慷慨和同情的態度接觸彼此。
Each one of us contributes to the communities and the cultures and the societies that we make up. The end of this spiral of rage and blame begins with one person who refuses to indulge these destructive, seductive impulses. We just have to decide that it's going to start with us.
我們每一個人都對我們構成的社區、 文化及社會有貢獻。 要終結這急遽上升的憤怒及責難, 要從某個人願意 拒絕沉迷在這充滿破壞性 卻誘人的衝動開始。 我們只需要決定這要由自己做起。
Thank you.
謝謝!
(Applause)
(掌聲)