So earlier this year, I was informed that I would be doing a TED Talk. So I was excited, then I panicked, then I was excited, then I panicked, and in between the excitement and the panicking, I started to do my research, and my research primarily consisted of Googling how to give a great TED Talk.
Ó principio deste ano dixéronme que ía facer unha charla TED Emocioneime e despois veu o pánico volvínme emocionar e despois o pánico outra vez e entre a emoción e o pánico empezou a miña busca, que consistiu primeiro en ver en Google como facer unha boa charla TED
(Laughter)
(Risas)
And interspersed with that, I was Googling Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie. How many of you know who that is?
E no medio diso, busquei en Google Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie. Cantos coñecedes quen é?
(Cheers)
(Aclamacións)
So I was Googling her because I always Google her because I'm just a fan, but also because she always has important and interesting things to say. And the combination of those searches kept leading me to her talk on the dangers of a single story, on what happens when we have a solitary lens through which to understand certain groups of people, and it is the perfect talk. It's the talk that I would have given if I had been famous first.
Busqueina porque sempre o fago porque son unha admiradora pero tamén porque sempre ten cousas importantes e interesantes que dicir. E a combinación desas buscas levábame constantemente á súa charla sobre os perigos dunha única historia, sobre o que pasa cando temos unha única visión a través da cal entendermos certos grupos de xente, e é a charla perfecta. É a charla que eu daría se fose famosa antes.
(Laughter)
(Risas)
You know, and you know, like, she's African and I'm African, and she's a feminist and I'm a feminist, and she's a storyteller and I'm a storyteller, so I really felt like it's my talk.
E sabedes que ela é africana e eu son africana, que ela é feminista e eu son feminista. que ela conta historias e eu conto historias, así que sentín que é a miña charla.
(Laughter)
(Risas)
So I decided that I was going to learn how to code, and then I was going to hack the internet and I would take down all the copies of that talk that existed, and then I would memorize it, and then I would come here and deliver it as if it was my own speech. So that plan was going really well, except the coding part, and then one morning a few months ago, I woke up to the news that the wife of a certain presidential candidate had given a speech that --
Decidín, ademais, que ía aprender a programar, e despois ía hackear internet e eliminaría todas as copias existentes desa charla, memorizaríaa, e despois viría aquí e diríaa como se fose o meu discurso. O plan ía moi ben agás polo de aprender a programar e logo, varios meses despois, unha mañá levanteime coas noticias de que a muller de certo candidato presidencial fixo un discurso que
(Laughter)
(Risas)
(Applause)
(Aplausos)
that sounded eerily like a speech given by one of my other faves, Michelle Obama.
que soou parecido a un que deu outra das miñas favoritas: Michelle Obama
(Cheers)
(Aclamacións)
And so I decided that I should probably write my own TED Talk, and so that is what I am here to do. I'm here to talk about my own observations about storytelling. I want to talk to you about the power of stories, of course, but I also want to talk about their limitations, particularly for those of us who are interested in social justice.
Daquela decidín que debía escribir a miña propia charla TED e é o que vou facer. Estou aquí para falar das miñas reflexións sobre contar historias. Por suposto, quero falar sobre o poder das historias pero tamén quero falar sobre as súas limitacións, en particular para os que estades interesados na xustiza social.
So since Adichie gave that talk seven years ago, there has been a boom in storytelling. Stories are everywhere, and if there was a danger in the telling of one tired old tale, then I think there has got to be lots to celebrate about the flourishing of so many stories and so many voices. Stories are the antidote to bias. In fact, today, if you are middle class and connected via the internet, you can download stories at the touch of a button or the swipe of a screen. You can listen to a podcast about what it's like to grow up Dalit in Kolkata. You can hear an indigenous man in Australia talk about the trials and triumphs of raising his children in dignity and in pride. Stories make us fall in love. They heal rifts and they bridge divides. Stories can even make it easier for us to talk about the deaths of people in our societies who don't matter, because they make us care. Right?
Dende que Adichie deu aquel discurso hai sete anos houbo un boom no de contar historias, As historias están en todas partes, e se houbese algún perigo en contar un conto xa vello, penso máis ben que hai moito que celebrar sobre a propagación de tantas historias e voces. As historias son o antídoto para os prexuízos,. De feito se es clase media e tes conexión a internet podes descargar historias cun só click ou arrastrando sobre a pantalla. Podes escoitar un podcast sobre o que é crecer coma un dalit en Kolkata. Podes escoitar un indíxena en Australia que fala sobre os intentos e triunfos para criar os seus fillos con dignidade e con orgullo. As historias fannos enamorarnos. Curan feridas e únennos coma unha ponte. As historias poden incluso axudarnos a falar sobre a morte de persoas que non importan nas nosas sociedades, porque fan que nos interesemos. Non si?
I'm not so sure, and I actually work for a place called the Centre for Stories. And my job is to help to tell stories that challenge mainstream narratives about what it means to be black or a Muslim or a refugee or any of those other categories that we talk about all the time. But I come to this work after a long history as a social justice activist, and so I'm really interested in the ways that people talk about nonfiction storytelling as though it's about more than entertainment, as though it's about being a catalyst for social action. It's not uncommon to hear people say that stories make the world a better place. Increasingly, though, I worry that even the most poignant stories, particularly the stories about people who no one seems to care about, can often get in the way of action towards social justice. Now, this is not because storytellers mean any harm. Quite the contrary. Storytellers are often do-gooders like me and, I suspect, yourselves. And the audiences of storytellers are often deeply compassionate and empathetic people. Still, good intentions can have unintended consequences, and so I want to propose that stories are not as magical as they seem. So three -- because it's always got to be three -- three reasons why I think that stories don't necessarily make the world a better place.
Non estou segura, e eu traballo nun sitio chamado Centre for Stories E o meu traballo é axudar a contar historias que cuestionen o discurso establecido sobre o que significa ser negro ou musulmán ou refuxiado ou calquera outra categoría das que falamos deseguido. Pero acabei neste traballo despois dun longo percorrido como activista social, polo que estou moi interesada nos xeitos en que a xente fala sobre historias non ficticias como se fose máis ca un espectáculo, como se fose un catalizador para a acción social. Non é raro escoitarlle á xente dicir que as historias fan do mundo un lugar mellor. Porén, preocúpame cada vez máis que ata as historias máis conmovedoras, particularmente as da xente que parece non importarlle a ninguén, poiden ás veces entorpecer a xustiza social. Non é porque os contadores queiran facer dano; máis ben o contrario. Os contadores teñen tan boa intención coma min e sospeito que tamén coma vós. E o público dos contadores de historias son normalmente xente con moita compaixón e empatía. Aínda que as boas intencións poden ter consecuencias non intencionadas quero dicir que as historias non son tan máxicas como pode parecer. Teño tres, porque deben ser sempre tres, tres razóns polas que creo que as historias non fan necesariamente do mundo un lugar mellor.
Firstly, stories can create an illusion of solidarity. There is nothing like that feel-good factor you get from listening to a fantastic story where you feel like you climbed that mountain, right, or that you befriended that death row inmate. But you didn't. You haven't done anything. Listening is an important but insufficient step towards social action.
En primeiro lugar as historias poden crear unha ilusión de solidariedade. Non hai nada coma ese bo sentimento que consegues ao escoitar unha historia fantástica onde sentes que subiches ao alto dunha montaña, non si? Ou que te fixeches amigo dun preso condenado a morte. Pero non o fixeches. Ti non fixeches nada. Escoitar é un paso importante pero insuficiente para á acción social.
Secondly, I think often we are drawn towards characters and protagonists who are likable and human. And this makes sense, of course, right? Because if you like someone, then you care about them. But the inverse is also true. If you don't like someone, then you don't care about them. And if you don't care about them, you don't have to see yourself as having a moral obligation to think about the circumstances that shaped their lives.
En segundo lugar, ás veces penso que tiramos cara a personaxes e protagonistas que son agradables e humanos. E isto ten sentido, non si? Porque se che gusta alguén impórtache esta persoa. Pero o contrario tamén pasa. Se non che gusta alguén entón esa persoa non che importa e se non che importa non ves que teñas a obriga moral de pensar nas circunstancias que marcaron a súa vida.
I learned this lesson when I was 14 years old. I learned that actually, you don't have to like someone to recognize their wisdom, and you certainly don't have to like someone to take a stand by their side. So my bike was stolen while I was riding it --
Aprendín esta lección cando tiña 14 anos. Aprendín que non che ten que gustar alguén para recoñecer a súa sabedoría, e que tampouco che ten que gustar alguén para estar da súa parte. Roubáronme a bici mentras estaba montando nela
(Laughter)
(Risas)
which is possible if you're riding slowly enough, which I was.
o que pode pasar se montas moi amodo como facía eu.
(Laughter)
(Risas)
So one minute I'm cutting across this field in the Nairobi neighborhood where I grew up, and it's like a very bumpy path, and so when you're riding a bike, you don't want to be like, you know --
Nunha ocasión estaba atallando a través dun campo no barrio de Nairobi onde me criei, e é un camiño con moitas fochancas, así que se vas na bici non queres parecer, xa sabes...
(Laughter)
(Risas)
And so I'm going like this, slowly pedaling, and all of a sudden, I'm on the floor. I'm on the ground, and I look up, and there's this kid peddling away in the getaway vehicle, which is my bike, and he's about 11 or 12 years old, and I'm on the floor, and I'm crying because I saved a lot of money for that bike, and I'm crying and I stand up and I start screaming. Instinct steps in, and I start screaming, "Mwizi, mwizi!" which means "thief" in Swahili. And out of the woodworks, all of these people come out and they start to give chase. This is Africa, so mob justice in action. Right? And I round the corner, and they've captured him, they've caught him. The suspect has been apprehended, and they make him give me my bike back, and they also make him apologize. Again, you know, typical African justice, right? And so they make him say sorry. And so we stand there facing each other, and he looks at me, and he says sorry, but he looks at me with this unbridled fury. He is very, very angry. And it is the first time that I have been confronted with someone who doesn't like me simply because of what I represent. He looks at me with this look as if to say, "You, with your shiny skin and your bike, you're angry at me?"
Así que pedaleaba moi lentamente e de repente estou no chan. Estou no chan e miro para arriba e vexo a este neno pedaleando na miña bici un neno duns 11 ou 12 anos, e eu no chan chorando porque aforrara moitos cartos para aquela bici, e mentres choraba erguinme e comecei a berrar O instinto fíxome berrar "Mwizi, mwizi!" que significa "ladrón" en suahili. De repente todo o mundo sae das carpinterías e comeza a perseguilo. É África, a xustiza popular en acción. De acordo? Viro a esquina, e capturárono, cazárono. Detiveron o sospeitoso, e fixéronlle devolverme a bici. e tamén desculparse. Como xa dixen, típica xustiza africana, non sí? E fixéronlle pedirme perdón. e estabamos a ollar un para o outro, e el mírame e di perdón, pero mírame con carraxe descontrolada. Está moi moi furioso. Esta era a primeira vez que me enfrontaba con alguén a que non lle gusto simplemente polo que represento. Él mírame como se fose dicir "Ti, coa túa pel brillante e a túa bici, estás enfadada comigo?"
So it was a hard lesson that he didn't like me, but you know what, he was right. I was a middle-class kid living in a poor country. I had a bike, and he barely had food. Sometimes, it's the messages that we don't want to hear, the ones that make us want to crawl out of ourselves, that we need to hear the most. For every lovable storyteller who steals your heart, there are hundreds more whose voices are slurred and ragged, who don't get to stand up on a stage dressed in fine clothes like this. There are a million angry-boy-on-a-bike stories and we can't afford to ignore them simply because we don't like their protagonists or because that's not the kid that we would bring home with us from the orphanage.
Foi unha dura lección que eu non lle gustase, pero sabedes que? El tiña razón. Eu era unha nena de clase media vivindo nun país pobre. Eu tiña unha bici e el apenas tiña comida. Ás veces as mensaxes que non queremos escoitar, as que fan que queiramos que nos trague a terra, son as que máis necesitamos oír. Por cada contador de historias encantador que che rouba o corazón, hai centos que ven as súas voces distorsionadas, que non chegan ao escenario vestidos en lindas roupaxes coma esta. Hai millóns de historias coma a do neno que me roubou a bici e non podemos ignoralas só porque non nos gusten os protagonistas ou porque non sexa a clase de neno que levariamos para a casa desde o orfanato.
The third reason that I think that stories don't necessarily make the world a better place is that too often we are so invested in the personal narrative that we forget to look at the bigger picture. And so we applaud someone when they tell us about their feelings of shame, but we don't necessarily link that to oppression. We nod understandingly when someone says they felt small, but we don't link that to discrimination. The most important stories, especially for social justice, are those that do both, that are both personal and allow us to explore and understand the political.
A terceira razón pola que penso que as historias non fan do mundo un lugar mellor é que moi a miúdo estamos tan inmersos na narración persoal que esquecemos o que hai ao redor. Así que aplaudimos cando nos contan os seus sentimentos de vergoña, pero non relacionamos iso coa opresión. Asentimos con razón cando alguén nos di que se sente pequeno pero non o ligamos coa discriminación. As mellores historias, especialmente para a xustiza social son as que fan as dúas cousas: son persoais, pero permítennos explorar e entender o político.
But it's not just about the stories we like versus the stories we choose to ignore. Increasingly, we are living in a society where there are larger forces at play, where stories are actually for many people beginning to replace the news. Yeah? We live in a time where we are witnessing the decline of facts, when emotions rule and analysis, it's kind of boring, right? Where we value what we feel more than what we actually know. A recent report by the Pew Center on trends in America indicates that only 10 percent of young adults under the age of 30 "place a lot of trust in the media." Now, this is significant. It means that storytellers are gaining trust at precisely the same moment that many in the media are losing the confidence in the public. This is not a good thing, because while stories are important and they help us to have insights in many ways, we need the media. From my years as a social justice activist, I know very well that we need credible facts from media institutions combined with the powerful voices of storytellers. That's what pushes the needle forward in terms of social justice.
Pero non pasa só coas historias que nos gustan fronte ás que eliximos ignorar. Cada vez máis vivimos nunha sociedade na que hai maiores forzas en xogo, onde para moita xente, as historias están comezando a substituír as noticias. Non? Vivimos nunca época na que vemos a decadencia dos feitos, cando as emocións dominan e a análise é un pouco aburrida, non si? Onde valoramos o que sentimos máis que aquilo que sabemos. Unha declaración do Pew Center sobre modas en America indica que só o 10% dos adultos de menos de 30 anos confía nos medios de comunicación. É un dato significativo. Significa que os contadores de historias están gañando confianza ó mesmo tempo que os medios perden a confianza do público. Non é unha boa cousa, porque as historias son importantes e axúdannos a ter diferentes percepcións, pero aos medios necesitámolos. Tras moitos anos como activista social sei moi ben que necesitamos crer nos datos dos medios institucionais combinados coas poderosas voces dos contadores. Iso é o que move cara a adiante a xustiza social.
In the final analysis, of course, it is justice that makes the world a better place, not stories. Right? And so if it is justice that we are after, then I think we mustn't focus on the media or on storytellers. We must focus on audiences, on anyone who has ever turned on a radio or listened to a podcast, and that means all of us.
Na análise final é a xustiza a que fai do mundo un lugar mellor e non as historias. E se é xustiza o que buscamos, penso que non debemos centrarnos nos medios ou nos contadores. Temos que centrarnos no público, en calquera que algunha vez acendese a radio ou escoitase un podcast, e eses somos todos nós.
So a few concluding thoughts on what audiences can do to make the world a better place. So firstly, the world would be a better place, I think, if audiences were more curious and more skeptical and asked more questions about the social context that created those stories that they love so much. Secondly, the world would be a better place if audiences recognized that storytelling is intellectual work. And I think it would be important for audiences to demand more buttons on their favorite websites, buttons for example that say, "If you liked this story, click here to support a cause your storyteller believes in." Or "click here to contribute to your storyteller's next big idea." Often, we are committed to the platforms, but not necessarily to the storytellers themselves. And then lastly, I think that audiences can make the world a better place by switching off their phones, by stepping away from their screens and stepping out into the real world beyond what feels safe.
Como conclusión, unhas ideas sobre o que o público pode facer para converter o mundo nun lugar mellor. Primeira, o mundo podería ser un lugar mellor, penso, se o público fose máis curioso e máis escéptico e fixese máis preguntas sobre o contexto social que provocou esas historias que tanto lles gustan. Segunda, o mundo podería ser un lugar mellor se o público recoñecese que as historias son un traballo intelectual. E penso que sería importante que o público pedise mais botóns nos seus webs favoritos, que dixesen, por exemplo: "Se che gustou esta historia, preme aquí para apoiares a causa na que cre este contador". Ou "preme aquí para contribuír á seguinte gran idea deste contador". Ás veces estamos enganchados ás plataformas pero non necesariamente aos contadores. E por último, creo que o público pode converter o mundo nun lugar mellor apagando os seus teléfonos, separándose das súas pantallas e saíndo ao mundo real fóra da súa zona de confort.
Alice Walker has said, "Look closely at the present you are constructing. It should look like the future you are dreaming." Storytellers can help us to dream, but it's up to all of us to have a plan for justice.
Alice Walker dixo "Mira con atención o presente que estás a construír, debería ser coma o futuro que estás a soñar" Os contadores de historias pódennos axudar a soñar pero depende de todos nós ter un plan para a xustiza
Thank you.
Moitas grazas
(Applause)
(Aplausos)