Twenty-three years ago, at the age of 19, I shot and killed a man. I was a young drug dealer with a quick temper and a semi-automatic pistol.
Prije 23 godine, u dobi od 19 godina, upucao sam i ubio čovjeka. Bio sam mladi diler nagle naravi i s poluautomatskim pištoljem.
But that wasn't the end of my story. In fact, it was beginning, and the 23 years since is a story of acknowledgment, apology and atonement. But it didn't happen in the way that you might imagine or think. These things occurred in my life in a way that was surprising, especially to me.
No, to nije bio kraj moje priče. Zapravo, bio je to tek početak. Naredne 23 godine priča su o priznanju, isprici i okajanju. No to se nije dogodilo na način na koji možda zamišljate ili mislite. Ove su se stvari dogodile u mom životu na način koji je iznenađujuć, posebice meni samom.
See, like many of you, growing up, I was an honor roll student, a scholarship student, with dreams of becoming a doctor. But things went dramatically wrong when my parents separated and eventually divorced.
Vidite, poput mogih od vas, tijekom odrastanja bio sam odličan učenik, primao sam stipendiju i sanjao o tome da postanem liječnik. No, stvari su se dramatično zakomplicirale kada su se moji roditelji razdvojili i naposljetku razveli.
The actual events are pretty straightforward. At the age of 17, I got shot three times standing on the corner of my block in Detroit. My friend rushed me to the hospital. Doctors pulled the bullets out, patched me up, and sent me back to the same neighborhood where I got shot. Throughout this ordeal, no one hugged me, no one counseled me, no one told me I would be okay. No one told me that I would live in fear, that I would become paranoid, or that I would react hyper-violently to being shot. No one told me that one day, I would become the person behind the trigger. Fourteen months later, at 2 a.m., I fired the shots that caused a man's death.
Pravi događaji su vrlo izravni. U dobi od 17 godina bio sam tri puta propucan dok sam stajao na uglu u svom kvartu u Detroitu. Prijatelj me odvezao u bolnicu. Liječnici su izvadili metke, zakrpali me, i poslali me nazad u isti kvart u kojem sam bio upucan. Kroz cijelu ovu muku nitko me nije zagrlio, nitko me nije savjetovao, nitko mi nije rekao da ću biti dobro. Nitko mi nije rekao da ću živjeti u strahu, da ću postati paranoičan, niti da ću reagirati pretjerano nasilno na to što sam bio upucan. Nitko mi nije rekao da ću jednoga dana, ja postati osoba iza okidača. Poslije 14 mjeseci, u 2 sata ujutro, zapucao sam nekoliko puta zbog čega je jedan čovjek umro.
When I entered prison, I was bitter, I was angry, I was hurt. I didn't want to take responsibility. I blamed everybody from my parents to the system. I rationalized my decision to shoot because in the hood where I come from, it's better to be the shooter than the person getting shot. As I sat in my cold cell, I felt helpless, unloved and abandoned. I felt like nobody cared, and I reacted with hostility to my confinement. And I found myself getting deeper and deeper into trouble. I ran black market stores, I loan sharked, and I sold drugs that were illegally smuggled into the prison. I had in fact become what the warden of the Michigan Reformatory called "the worst of the worst." And because of my activity, I landed in solitary confinement for seven and a half years out of my incarceration.
Kada sam došao u zatvor, bio sam ogorčen, ljut, povrijeđen. Nisam htio prihvatiti odgovornost. Krivio sam sve, od svojih roditelja do sustava. Racionalizirao sam svoju odluku da pucam jer je u mom kvartu bilo bolje biti onaj koji puca nego onaj koji je upucan. Dok sam sjedio u svojoj hladnoj ćeliji, osjećao sam se bespomoćno, nevoljeno i napušteno. Osjećao sam se kao da nikome nije stalo, i reagirao sam nasilno na činjenicu da sam u zatvoru. I sve sam dublje i dublje tonuo u probleme. Vodio sam crno tržište, kamatario, i prodavao drogu ilegalno prokrijumčarenu u zatvor. Postao sam zapravo ono što je nadstojnik Popravnog doma Michigan zvao "najgori od najgorih." I zbog svojih djela dospio sam u samicu na sedam i pol godina svoje robije.
Now as I see it, solitary confinement is one of the most inhumane and barbaric places you can find yourself, but find myself I did. One day, I was pacing my cell, when an officer came and delivered mail. I looked at a couple of letters before I looked at the letter that had my son's squiggly handwriting on it. And anytime I would get a letter from my son, it was like a ray of light in the darkest place you can imagine. And on this particular day, I opened this letter, and in capital letters, he wrote, "My mama told me why you was in prison: murder." He said, "Dad, don't kill. Jesus watches what you do. Pray to Him."
Smatram da je samica jedno od najnehumanijih i barbarskih mjesta na kojim se možete naći, a ja sam se tamo doista našao. Jednoga dana dok sam hodao po ćeliji, došao je čuvar i donio poštu. Pogledao sam par pisama, prije nego li sam pogledao pismo na kojemu je bio načrčkan rukopis mog sina. Svaki puta kada bi dobio pismo svog sina, bilo je poput zrake svjetla na najtamnijem mjestu koje možete zamisliti. Taj konkretan dan otvorio sam to pismo, i velikim tiskanim slovima je pisalo, "Mama mi je rekla zašto si u zatvoru: zbog ubojstva." Rekao je, "Tata, nemoj ubijati." "Isus gleda što radiš. Moli Mu se."
Now, I wasn't religious at that time, nor am I religious now, but it was something so profound about my son's words. They made me examine things about my life that I hadn't considered. It was the first time in my life that I had actually thought about the fact that my son would see me as a murderer. I sat back on my bunk and I reflected on something I had read in [Plato], where Socrates stated in "Apology" that the unexamined life isn't worth living.
U to vrijeme nisam bio religiozan, niti sam to sada, ali bilo je nešto jako duboko u riječima mog sina. Natjerale su me da razmotrim stvari u svom životu o kojima nisam bio razmišljao. Bio je to prvi put u mom životu da sam zapravo promislio o činjenici da me moj sin gleda kao ubojicu. Sjeo sam nazad na svoj ležaj, i prisjetio se nečega što sam bio pročitao u Platonu, kada je Sokrat u "Isprici" izjavio da neistraženi život nije vrijedan življenja.
At that point is when the transformation began. But it didn't come easy. One of the things I realized, which was part of the transformation, was that there were four key things. The first thing was, I had great mentors. Now, I know some of you all are probably thinking, how did you find a great mentor in prison? But in my case, some of my mentors who are serving life sentences were some of the best people to ever come into my life, because they forced me to look at my life honestly, and they forced me to challenge myself about my decision making.
U tom trenutku je počela preobrazba. No, nije došla tako jednostavno. Jedna od stvari koje sam shvatio, koja je bila dio preobrazbe, bila je ta da postoje četiri ključne stvari. Prva je stvar bila da imam odlične mentore. Znam da se neki od vas pitaju kako sam našao odličnog mentora u zatvoru. Ali u mom slučaju, neki od mojih mentora koji su služili doživotnu kaznu bili su jedni od najboljih ljudi koji su ikada ušli u moj život, jer su me natjerali da svoj život sagledam iskreno, i da si postavim izazove u donošenju svojih odluka.
The second thing was literature. Prior to going to prison, I didn't know that there were so many brilliant black poets, authors and philosophers, and then I had the great fortune of encountering Malcolm X's autobiography, and it shattered every stereotype I had about myself.
Druga je stvar bila književnost. Prije odlaska u zatvor, nisam znao da postoje toliki sjajni pjesnici, autori i filozofi koji su crnci, a onda sam imao veliku sreću da naiđem na autobiografiju Malcolma X-a, koja je razbila svaki stereotip koji sam imao o sebi.
The third thing was family. For 19 years, my father stood by my side with an unshakable faith, because he believed that I had what it took to turn my life around. I also met an amazing woman who is now the mother of my two-year-old son Sekou, and she taught me how to love myself in a healthy way.
Treće je bila moja obitelj. Moj otac je 19 godina bio uz mene s nepokolebljivom vjerom, jer je vjerovao da posjedujem ono što mi je bilo potrebno da si preokrenem život. Također sam upoznao nevjerojatnu ženu koja je sada majka mog dvogodišnjeg sina Sekoua, i koja me naučila kako samog sebe voljeti na zdrav način.
The final thing was writing. When I got that letter from my son, I began to write a journal about things I had experienced in my childhood and in prison, and what it did is it opened up my mind to the idea of atonement. Earlier in my incarceration, I had received a letter from one of the relatives of my victim, and in that letter, she told me she forgave me, because she realized I was a young child who had been abused and had been through some hardships and just made a series of poor decisions. It was the first time in my life that I ever felt open to forgiving myself.
Posljednje je bilo pisanje. Kada sam dobio ono pismo od sina, počeo sam pisati dnevnik o stvarima koje sam proživio u djetinjstvu i u zatvoru, a to mi je otvorilo um ideji o okajanju. U ranijem periodu mog robijanja, dobio samo pismo jedne rođakinje moje žrtve, i u tom pismu rekla mi je da mi oprašta jer je shvatila da sam bio malo dijete koje je bilo zlostavljano i koje je prolazilo kroz nevolje i samo donijelo niz loših odluka. To je bio prvi put u mom životu da sam se osjećao otvoren opraštanju samome sebi.
One of the things that happened after that experience is that I thought about the other men who were incarcerated alongside of me, and how much I wanted to share this with them. And so I started talking to them about some of their experiences, and I was devastated to realize that most of them came from the same abusive environments, And most of them wanted help and they wanted to turn it around, but unfortunately the system that currently holds 2.5 million people in prison is designed to warehouse as opposed to rehabilitate or transform. So I made it up in my mind that if I was ever released from prison that I would do everything in my power to help change that.
Jedna od stvari koje su se dogodile nakon što sam to doživio bila je da sam razmišljao o drugim zatvorenicima koji su robijali zajedno sa mnom, i o tome koliko sam to htio s njima podijeliti. Tako sam počeo razgovarati s njima o nekim njihovim iskustvima, i bio sam strašno pogođen shvativši da je većina njih došla iz istih nasilnih okolina. I većina njih željela je pomoć i preokret u svom životu, no, nažalost sustav koji trenutno drži 2,5 milijuna ljudi u zatvoru simšljen je tako da skladišti umjesto da rehabilitira ili preobražava. Tako sam odlučio da ako ikada budem pušten iz zatvora da ću napraviti sve u svojoj moći da pomognem to promijeniti.
In 2010, I walked out of prison for the first time after two decades. Now imagine, if you will, Fred Flintstone walking into an episode of "The Jetsons." That was pretty much what my life was like. For the first time, I was exposed to the Internet, social media, cars that talk like KITT from "Knight Rider." But the thing that fascinated me the most was phone technology. See, when I went to prison, our car phones were this big and required two people to carry them. So imagine what it was like when I first grabbed my little Blackberry and I started learning how to text. But the thing is, the people around me, they didn't realize that I had no idea what all these abbreviated texts meant, like LOL, OMG, LMAO, until one day I was having a conversation with one of my friends via text, and I asked him to do something, and he responded back, "K." And I was like, "What is K?" And he was like, "K is okay." So in my head, I was like, "Well what the hell is wrong with K?" And so I text him a question mark. And he said, "K = okay." And so I tap back, "FU." (Laughter) And then he texts back, and he asks me why was I cussing him out. And I said, "LOL FU," as in, I finally understand. (Laughter)
Godine 2010. izišao sam iz zatvora po prvi put nakon dva desetljeća. Zamislite, ako možete, Freda Kremenka kak ulazi u epizodu "Jetsonsovih." Tako je otprilike izgledao moj život. Po prvi put bio sam izložen internetu, društvenim mrežama, autima koji govore poput KITT-a iz serije "Knight Rider." No najviše me fascinirala telefonska tehnologija. U vrijeme kada sam otišao u zatvor, naši telefoni u autima bili su ovako veliki i trebalo je dvoje ljudi da ih nose. Zamislite onda kako je to bilo kada sam po prvi puta primio svoj maleni Blackberry i počeo učiti kako slati poruke. Radi se o tome da, ljudi oko mene nisu shvaćali da nisam imao pojma što znače sve te skraćenice, poput LOL, OMG, LMAO, sve dok jednog dana nisam vodio razgovor s prijateljem preko poruka, i zamolio ga da nešto napravi, a on je odgovorio sa "K." Pitao sam ga, "Što je K?" A on je odgovorio "K je okej." Pomislio sam, "Koji vrag ne valja s K?" Poslao sam mu upitnik. Odgovorio je, "K = okej." A ja mu odgovorim, "FU." (j*i se) (Smijeh) On me na to upita zašto sam ga opsovao. Ja mu odgovorim, "LOL FU," u smislu, napokon razumijem (finally understand). (Smijeh)
And so fast forward three years, I'm doing relatively good. I have a fellowship at MIT Media Lab, I work for an amazing company called BMe, I teach at the University of Michigan, but it's been a struggle because I realize that there are more men and women coming home who are not going to be afforded those opportunities. I've been blessed to work with some amazing men and women, helping others reenter society, and one of them is my friend named Calvin Evans. He served 24 years for a crime he didn't commit. He's 45 years old. He's currently enrolled in college. And one of the things that we talked about is the three things that I found important in my personal transformation, the first being acknowledgment. I had to acknowledge that I had hurt others. I also had to acknowledge that I had been hurt. The second thing was apologizing. I had to apologize to the people I had hurt. Even though I had no expectations of them accepting it, it was important to do because it was the right thing. But I also had to apologize to myself. The third thing was atoning. For me, atoning meant going back into my community and working with at-risk youth who were on the same path, but also becoming at one with myself.
Sada, tri godine poslije, ide mi relativno dobro. Imam stipendiju za Media Lab na Tehnološkom institutu Massachusetts, radim za fenomenalnu tvrtku koja se zove BMe, podučavam na Sveučilištu Michigan. No, bilo je teško jer shvaćam da ima više ljudi koji se vraćaju kući kojima neće biti omogućene takve prilike. Blagoslovljen sam što radim s nevjerojatnim ljudima, pomažući drugima u resocijalizaciji, a jedan od njih je moj prijatelj Calvin Evans. Bio je u zatvoru 24 godine radi zločina koji nije počinio. Ima 45 godina. Trenutno ide na fakultet. Jedna od stvari o kojima smo pričali su tri stvari koje smatram bitnima u svojoj osobnoj preobrazbi. Prva je priznanje. Morao sam priznati da sam povrijedio druge. Trebao sam priznati i da sam ja bio povrijeđen. Druga je isprika. Morao sam se ispričati ljudima koje sam povrijedio. Iako nisam očekivao da će je prihvatiti, bilo je bitno da to napravim jer je to bilo ispravno. No, trebao sam se i sam sebi ispričati. Treća je okajanje. Za mene je kajanje značilo povratak u svoju zajednicu i rad s ugroženom mladeži koja je bila na istom putu kao i ja, ali i to da budem jedno sam sa sobom.
Through my experience of being locked up, one of the things I discovered is this: the majority of men and women who are incarcerated are redeemable, and the fact is, 90 percent of the men and women who are incarcerated will at some point return to the community, and we have a role in determining what kind of men and women return to our community.
Kroz svoje iskustvo zatvora, jedna od stvari koje sam otkrio je ovo: većina ljudi koja su zatvorena mogu biti iskupljena, i činjenica je da će se 90 posto ljudi koji služe kaznu u zatvoru jednog dana vratiti u zajednicu, a mi imamo udjela u odluci kakvi će se ljudi vratiti u našu zajednicu.
My wish today is that we will embrace a more empathetic approach toward how we deal with mass incarceration, that we will do away with the lock-them-up-and-throw-away-the-key mentality, because it's proven it doesn't work.
Moja je želja danas da prihvatimo suosjećajniji pristup tome kako se nosimo s masama koje služe zatvorsku kaznu, da se riješimo "treba ih zatvoriti za vijeke vjekova" mentaliteta, jer je dokazano da ne funkcionira.
My journey is a unique journey, but it doesn't have to be that way. Anybody can have a transformation if we create the space for that to happen. So what I'm asking today is that you envision a world where men and women aren't held hostage to their pasts, where misdeeds and mistakes don't define you for the rest of your life. I think collectively, we can create that reality, and I hope you do too.
Moje putovanje je jedinstveno, no ne mora biti tako. Bilo tko može doživjeti preobrazbu ako za takvo što stvorimo mogućnost. Zato vas danas tražim da zamislite svijet gdje ljudi nisu taoci svoje prošlosti, gdje prestupi i pogreške ne određuju osobu za cijeli život. Mislim da kolektivno možemo stvoriti takvu stvarnost, i nadam se da ćete to i napraviti.
Thank you.
Hvala.
(Applause)
(Pljesak)