Last year, I went on my first book tour. In 13 months, I flew to 14 countries and gave some hundred talks. Every talk in every country began with an introduction, and every introduction began, alas, with a lie: "Taiye Selasi comes from Ghana and Nigeria," or "Taiye Selasi comes from England and the States." Whenever I heard this opening sentence, no matter the country that concluded it -- England, America, Ghana, Nigeria -- I thought, "But that's not true." Yes, I was born in England and grew up in the United States. My mum, born in England, and raised in Nigeria, currently lives in Ghana. My father was born in Gold Coast, a British colony, raised in Ghana, and has lived for over 30 years in the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia. For this reason, my introducers also called me "multinational." "But Nike is multinational," I thought, "I'm a human being."
去年,我第一次踏上签书之旅。 在13个月里,我飞了14个国家, 并且举办了数百场的演说。 在每一个城市的每一个的演讲, 都有一段讲者介绍, 而每一次的讲者介绍, 唉....都是以谎言开始: Taiye Selasi 来自加纳及尼日利亚, 或者是,Taiye Selasi 来自英国及美国。 无论什么时候我听到 这样的介紹开场白.... 不管提到的是哪个国家, 英国、美国、加纳还是尼日利亚, 我都会想," 这不是真的啊! " 是的,我在英格兰出生,在美国长大。 我的母亲,在英格兰出生, 在尼日利亚被抚养, 现在住在加纳。 我的父亲在黄金海岸出生, 是一个英国的殖民地, 在加纳长大, 在沙特阿拉伯生活了三十多年。 因为这些原因,我的引言人 也常介绍我为:多国家人 但是耐克 (Nike)才是多国家的, 我在想," 我是一个人啊 "
Then, one fine day, mid-tour, I went to Louisiana, a museum in Denmark where I shared the stage with the writer Colum McCann. We were discussing the role of locality in writing, when suddenly it hit me. I'm not multinational. I'm not a national at all. How could I come from a nation? How can a human being come from a concept? It's a question that had been bothering me for going on two decades. From newspapers, textbooks, conversations, I had learned to speak of countries as if they were eternal, singular, naturally occurring things, but I wondered: to say that I came from a country suggested that the country was an absolute, some fixed point in place in time, a constant thing, but was it? In my lifetime, countries had disappeared -- Czechoslovakia; appeared -- Timor-Leste; failed -- Somalia. My parents came from countries that didn't exist when they were born. To me, a country -- this thing that could be born, die, expand, contract -- hardly seemed the basis for understanding a human being.
后来,有一天,在旅行的途中, 我去了路易斯安那, 一个丹麦的博物馆, 在那里我和作家 Colum McCann同台, 我们讨论了「地方」 在写作中扮演了什么角色 ? 突然间我领悟到...... 我并不是一个多国家的人 我根本就不属于哪个国家。 我怎么会来自某个国家呢? 一个人怎么能来自一个概念? 这个问题持续困扰了我20年之久。 从报纸,书本,对话中, 我了解到当我们在谈论国家时, 好像它们是永恒、独一、 自然发生的事情, 但是我仍有疑问: 说我来自某一个国家, 是说明那个国家是一个绝对的概念, 时空下某个固定的点, 是持续不变的事情, 但是是这样吗? 在我这一生中,我看到有国家消失了, 像捷克斯洛伐克; 有国家出现了,像东帝汶; 有的失败了,像索马里。 我父母来自的国家, 在他们出生的时候还不存在。 对我而言,国家会诞生, 死亡,扩张,缩小— 几乎不能作为了解一个人的基础。
And so it came as a huge relief to discover the sovereign state. What we call countries are actually various expressions of sovereign statehood, an idea that came into fashion only 400 years ago. When I learned this, beginning my masters degree in international relations, I felt a sort of surge of relief. It was as I had suspected. History was real, cultures were real, but countries were invented. For the next 10 years, I sought to re- or un-define myself, my world, my work, my experience, beyond the logic of the state.
所以当我明白「主权国家」这概念时 真是松了一口气。 我们现在所称的「国家」,其实是, 对于「主权国家」的各种不同说法。 这种想法在400年前才开始流行起来。 当我了解到这些的时候, 我才刚开始我的国际关系硕士的学习, 我如释重负。 这和我猜想的一样, 历史是真实的,文化也是真实的, 但是国家是被人创造的。 在接下来的十年,我用 超越「国家」的这个逻辑 来重新定义或否定义我自己的 世界、工作、经历。
In 2005, I wrote an essay, "What is an Afropolitan," sketching out an identity that privileged culture over country. It was thrilling how many people could relate to my experience, and instructional how many others didn't buy my sense of self. "How can Selasi claim to come from Ghana," one such critic asked, "when she's never known the indignities of traveling abroad on a Ghanian passport?"
2005年,我写了一篇论文, “ 什么是大非洲人? " 描述一种以「文化」而不是 「国家」来定义身份。 我很兴奋的是, 很多人能认同我的经验, 也很受教,有关于很多人无法 认同我对我自己的感觉。 有一个评论家这么说, “当她从不明白在旅行时持有加拿护照所受到的侮辱时,” “ Selasi 她怎能自称是加纳人? ”
Now, if I'm honest, I knew just what she meant. I've got a friend named Layla who was born and raised in Ghana. Her parents are third-generation Ghanians of Lebanese descent. Layla, who speaks fluent Twi, knows Accra like the back of her hand, but when we first met years ago, I thought, "She's not from Ghana." In my mind, she came from Lebanon, despite the patent fact that all her formative experience took place in suburban Accra. I, like my critics, was imagining some Ghana where all Ghanaians had brown skin or none held U.K. passports. I'd fallen into the limiting trap that the language of coming from countries sets -- the privileging of a fiction, the singular country, over reality: human experience. Speaking with Colum McCann that day, the penny finally dropped. "All experience is local," he said. "All identity is experience," I thought. "I'm not a national," I proclaimed onstage. "I'm a local. I'm multi-local."
我现在要说,如果我是诚实的话, 我懂她说的意思。 我有一个叫蕾拉的朋友, 出生并在加纳长大。 她的父母是第三代 黎巴嫩裔迦纳人。 蕾拉会说一口流利的加纳方言, 对首都阿克拉了如指掌, 但是当我们数年前第一次见面时, 我想着,「她不是迦纳人。」 在我心中,她是黎巴嫩人, 除去显而易见的事实, 她过去形成的经历, 都在阿克拉的郊区发生。 我,就像评论我的人一样, 當時在想迦纳人 都是棕色皮肤, 或沒人有英国护照。 我当时已陷入 自我设限的陷阱中, 即陷入了我们都来自 某个国家的固定说法 -- 某个虚构的主权、单一国家 而不是实际性:人文的经历。 和作家Colum McCann谈话的那天, 终于让我了解了这件事。 “ 所有的经历都与地方有关 ”,他说 “ 所有的身份都与经历有关 ”,我这么想 “ 我不是某个国民 ”, 我在台上这么宣称 “我是某地的居民 , 我是多地方的居民。”
See, "Taiye Selasi comes from the United States," isn't the truth. I have no relationship with the United States, all 50 of them, not really. My relationship is with Brookline, the town where I grew up; with New York City, where I started work; with Lawrenceville, where I spend Thanksgiving. What makes America home for me is not my passport or accent, but these very particular experiences and the places they occur. Despite my pride in Ewe culture, the Black Stars, and my love of Ghanaian food, I've never had a relationship with the Republic of Ghana, writ large. My relationship is with Accra, where my mother lives, where I go each year, with the little garden in Dzorwulu where my father and I talk for hours. These are the places that shape my experience. My experience is where I'm from.
你看,“ Taiye Selasi 来自美国 ” 不是事实, 我和美国没有任何关系, 跟50个州,都没有关系。 我只与布鲁克林有关系, 因为那是我成长的地方。 和纽约有关, 那是我开始工作的地方; 和劳伦斯维尔有关, 我在那里度过感恩节。 让美国成为我的家乡的原因, 不是我的护照或者口音, 而是那些特别的经历, 和那些经历发生的地方。 尽管我对加纳的文化、 国家足球队“ 黑星 ” 和我最爱的加纳食物引以为傲。 我却与加纳共和国 没有任何关系,非常明显。 我和阿克拉有关系,我妈妈住在那里, 我每年都会去那里, 与左乌鲁的小花园有关, 我父亲和我会在那里畅谈几个小时。 这些都是塑造我经历的地方。 我的经历就是我来自的地方。
What if we asked, instead of "Where are you from?" -- "Where are you a local?" This would tell us so much more about who and how similar we are. Tell me you're from France, and I see what, a set of clichés? Adichie's dangerous single story, the myth of the nation of France? Tell me you're a local of Fez and Paris, better yet, Goutte d'Or, and I see a set of experiences. Our experience is where we're from.
与其问你来自哪个国家, 不如问,你是哪个地方的人 ? 这会让我们更加了解我们是谁, 我们有多么相似。 你说你从法国来, 我会意识到什么?陈腔滥调? 阿迪奇的危险故事?法国的神话? 你说你是菲斯或者巴黎人, 甚至你说你是巴黎古德多区的人, 我看到的就是很多的生活经历。 我们的经历就是我们来自的地方。
So, where are you a local? I propose a three-step test. I call these the three "R’s": rituals, relationships, restrictions.
所以,你是哪个地方的人? 我提议来一个三步测试, 我称这些为三「R」测试: 分别为习惯,关系,和限制。 (英语中这三个词的第一个字母都是R)
First, think of your daily rituals, whatever they may be: making your coffee, driving to work, harvesting your crops, saying your prayers. What kind of rituals are these? Where do they occur? In what city or cities in the world do shopkeepers know your face? As a child, I carried out fairly standard suburban rituals in Boston, with adjustments made for the rituals my mother brought from London and Lagos. We took off our shoes in the house, we were unfailingly polite with our elders, we ate slow-cooked, spicy food. In snowy North America, ours were rituals of the global South. The first time I went to Delhi or to southern parts of Italy, I was shocked by how at home I felt. The rituals were familiar. "R" number one, rituals.
首先,回忆一下你的日常习惯, 不管是什么都没关系: 煮咖啡、开车上班、 收割庄稼、祷告。 这些是什么样的生活习惯? 它们在哪里发生的? 这世界上有哪个城市 或哪几个城市有店家认识你? 当我还是一个孩子的时候, 我在波士顿有着标准的郊区生活习惯, 还携带着我母亲从伦敦 和拉戈斯带来的习惯。 我们在室内脱鞋, 我们对长辈总是彬彬有礼, 我们吃慢炖的辛辣食物。 在大雪纷飞的北美, 我们带着南半球的习惯。 我第一次去德里及意大利南方时, 我被似家的感觉吓到了, 那里的习惯太相似了, 第一个“R”,习惯(rituals)
Now, think of your relationships, of the people who shape your days. To whom do you speak at least once a week, be it face to face or on FaceTime? Be reasonable in your assessment; I'm not talking about your Facebook friends. I'm speaking of the people who shape your weekly emotional experience. My mother in Accra, my twin sister in Boston, my best friends in New York: these relationships are home for me. "R" number two, relationships.
现在,想想你和参与你 每一天的人们之间的关系, 和你一周至少会说一次话的人的关系, 无论是面对面还是 通过视频通话的人, 评估时要合理。 我不是在说你的脸书上的朋友, 而是在说每星期会 影响你情绪的朋友。 我母亲在阿克拉, 我的双胞胎妹妹在波士顿上学, 我最好的朋友在纽约。 这些关系对我就像家的感觉。 这是第二个“R”,关系(relationships)
We're local where we carry out our rituals and relationships, but how we experience our locality depends in part on our restrictions. By restrictions, I mean, where are you able to live? What passport do you hold? Are you restricted by, say, racism, from feeling fully at home where you live? By civil war, dysfunctional governance, economic inflation, from living in the locality where you had your rituals as a child? This is the least sexy of the R’s, less lyric than rituals and relationships, but the question takes us past "Where are you now?" to "Why aren't you there, and why?" Rituals, relationships, restrictions.
我们在哪里带着习惯过日子、 产生关系,我们就是那里的人, 但是我们在某地的经历, 一部分受我们限制的影响。 我说的限制是指, 你能在哪里生活? 你持有的是哪个地方的护照? 你是否受到像种族主义的限制, 住的地方没有充满家的感觉? 是否受内战、政局失衡、 经济通胀限制, 这些因素导致你不能住在 小时候养成习惯的地方。 这是3R中最不迷人的一个, 比习惯和关系更难表述, 但是这个问题能带我们超越 “ 你现在住在哪? ” 到“你现在为什么不住在那里? 为什么?” 习惯、关系、限制。
Take a piece of paper and put those three words on top of three columns, then try to fill those columns as honestly as you can. A very different picture of your life in local context, of your identity as a set of experiences, may emerge.
拿出一张纸, 将这三个词写在这张纸的最上面, 然后尽可能的诚实地填满这三项。 一个全然不同的你, 在某个地方生活的样子, 你的经历勾勒出的身份, 可能因此出现。
So let's try it. I have a friend named Olu. He's 35 years old. His parents, born in Nigeria, came to Germany on scholarships. Olu was born in Nuremberg and lived there until age 10. When his family moved to Lagos, he studied in London, then came to Berlin. He loves going to Nigeria -- the weather, the food, the friends -- but hates the political corruption there. Where is Olu from?
所以我们一起尝试一下, 我有一个朋友叫做“ Olu ” 他今年35岁了, 他的父母出生在纳吉利亚, 通过奖学金到德国。 Olu 在纽伦堡出生, 十岁之前都在那里生活。 当他一家搬到拉戈斯时, 他在伦敦学习。 然后去了柏林, 他喜欢去纳吉利亚, 喜欢那里的气候,食物和朋友, 但是讨厌那里腐败的政治。 Olu 从哪里来的呢?
I have another friend named Udo. He's also 35 years old. Udo was born in Córdoba, in northwest Argentina, where his grandparents migrated from Germany, what is now Poland, after the war. Udo studied in Buenos Aires, and nine years ago came to Berlin. He loves going to Argentina -- the weather, the food, the friends -- but hates the economic corruption there. Where is Udo from? With his blonde hair and blue eyes, Udo could pass for German, but holds an Argentinian passport, so needs a visa to live in Berlin. That Udo is from Argentina has largely to do with history. That he's a local of Buenos Aires and Berlin, that has to do with life.
我有另外一个朋友叫做 Udo 他今年也是35岁了, Udo 出生在科尔多瓦, 阿根廷的西北方, 他的祖父战后 从德国,现在已是波兰,移民到那里, Udo在布宜诺斯艾利斯读书, 九年前到了柏林。 他很喜欢阿根廷, 那里的气候、食物和朋友, 但是讨厌那里的经济腐败, Udo 是来自哪里呢? 从他的金发碧眼可以判断, 他可能是德国人, 但是他持有阿根廷护照, 所以需要签证才能住在柏林。 Udo 来自阿根廷, 与历史有很大关系。 说他是布宜诺斯艾利斯和柏林人, 必定和他的生活有关。
Olu, who looks Nigerian, needs a visa to visit Nigeria. He speaks Yoruba with an English accent, and English with a German one. To claim that he's "not really Nigerian," though, denies his experience in Lagos, the rituals he practiced growing up, his relationship with family and friends.
Olu,看起来像是奈及利亚人, 却需要签证才能去奈及利亚。 他说的非洲优卢巴话带有英国口音, 说英语却有德国口音。 但是如果你说他不是 真正的奈及利亚人, 则否定了他在拉戈斯的经历、 他成长过程中养成的习惯、 他和他家人朋友的关系。
Meanwhile, though Lagos is undoubtedly one of his homes, Olu always feels restricted there, not least by the fact that he's gay.
同时,尽管拉戈斯 无疑是他的家园之一, Olu 在那里总觉得很受限制, 尤其是他是同性恋的这个事实。
Both he and Udo are restricted by the political conditions of their parents' countries, from living where some of their most meaningful rituals and relationships occur. To say Olu is from Nigeria and Udo is from Argentina distracts from their common experience. Their rituals, their relationships, and their restrictions are the same.
他和 Udo 都受到来自 父母国家的政治环境束缚, 无法住在他们可以培养出 最有意义的习惯, 和关系的地方。 说 Olu 是奈及利亚人, Udo 是阿根廷人, 转移了我们对他们共同经历的注意力。 他们的习惯,他们的关系, 和他们受到的限制是一样的。
Of course, when we ask, "Where are you from?" we're using a kind of shorthand. It's quicker to say "Nigeria" than "Lagos and Berlin," and as with Google Maps, we can always zoom in closer, from country to city to neighborhood. But that's not quite the point. The difference between "Where are you from?" and "Where are you a local?" isn't the specificity of the answer; it's the intention of the question. Replacing the language of nationality with the language of locality asks us to shift our focus to where real life occurs. Even that most glorious expression of countryhood, the World Cup, gives us national teams comprised mostly of multilocal players. As a unit of measurement for human experience, the country doesn't quite work. That's why Olu says, "I'm German, but my parents come from Nigeria." The "but" in that sentence belies the inflexibility of the units, one fixed and fictional entity bumping up against another. "I'm a local of Lagos and Berlin," suggests overlapping experiences, layers that merge together, that can't be denied or removed. You can take away my passport, but you can't take away my experience. That I carry within me. Where I'm from comes wherever I go.
当然,当我们问起,你是从哪国家来的? 我们好像在使用速记法。 说起 “奈及利亚” 比 “拉戈斯” 及 “柏林” 快得多, 并且通过谷歌地图, 我们可以放大来看, 从国家到城市到地区。 但是这不是重点, “ 你是哪国人 ” 和 “你是哪个地方的人” 之间的区别, 不在于有非常明确的答案, 而在于问题本身的目的。 将「国籍」这种表达法 以「地方」来取代, 是要我们转移焦点到 现实生活发生的地方。 甚至在最能展现国家辉煌 的时刻,比如世界杯, 参赛的国家球队也是由 来自各地的队员组成。 用「国家」作为人文经历的测量单位, 实在不怎么好用。 这就是为什么 Olu 说,我是德国人, 但是我的父母来自奈及利亚。 在这个句子中的“ 但是 ” 反映了这个测量单位的不灵活, 一个固定的、虚构的实体 彼此冲突碰撞著。 “我是拉戈斯和柏林人” 暗示了我有重叠的经历, 层层交叠,不能被否认或者抹去。 你可以拿走我的护照, 但是你无法拿走我的经历。 它与我密不可分。 我从哪里来, 源自于我去过哪里。
To be clear, I'm not suggesting that we do away with countries. There's much to be said for national history, more for the sovereign state. Culture exists in community, and community exists in context. Geography, tradition, collective memory: these things are important. What I'm questioning is primacy. All of those introductions on tour began with reference to nation, as if knowing what country I came from would tell my audience who I was. What are we really seeking, though, when we ask where someone comes from? And what are we really seeing when we hear an answer?
我要说清楚, 我不是要建议我们要脱离国家, 民族的历史很多时候比 国家的历史谈的更多。 文化存在于社会, 而社会存在于背景。 地理,传统,共同的记忆, 这些都很重要。 我质问的是哪个是首位? 在旅行的时候所有的介绍 都是从国家开始, 好像知道我从哪个国家来可以让 读者了解我是一个什么样的人。 但是,在我们问某人来自哪一国时, 我们真正想问的是什么? 我们听到的答案时 我们真正明白了什么?
Here's one possibility: basically, countries represent power. "Where are you from?" Mexico. Poland. Bangladesh. Less power. America. Germany. Japan. More power. China. Russia. Ambiguous.
其中一个可能性是, 基本上,国家代表势力, 你是从哪國来的?墨西哥, 波兰,孟加拉,力量弱一点。 美国,德国,日本,更强大一点。 中国,俄罗斯,不确定。
(Laughter)
(笑声)
It's possible that without realizing it, we're playing a power game, especially in the context of multi-ethnic countries. As any recent immigrant knows, the question "Where are you from?" or "Where are you really from?" is often code for "Why are you here?"
有可能我们在无意间玩权力游戏。 特别是在多种族的国家里。 就像每一位新移民者所知道的, “你从哪里来” 或者 “你真正从哪里来” 的问题, 常常是“ 你为什么来这里 ”的代名词。
Then we have the scholar William Deresiewicz's writing of elite American colleges. "Students think that their environment is diverse if one comes from Missouri and another from Pakistan -- never mind that all of their parents are doctors or bankers."
然后我们有 William Deresiewicz的文章 , 一位美国菁英大学的学者, 他说,“ 学生认为他们的环境很多元 ”, “如果有一个同学来自密苏里, 另一个来自巴基斯坦,” “却不去管他们的父母 都是医生或银行家。”
I'm with him. To call one student American, another Pakistani, then triumphantly claim student body diversity ignores the fact that these students are locals of the same milieu. The same holds true on the other end of the economic spectrum. A Mexican gardener in Los Angeles and a Nepali housekeeper in Delhi have more in common in terms of rituals and restrictions than nationality implies.
我赞同他的看法, 说某个学生是美国人, 另一个是巴基斯坦人, 然后得意地说, 学生群体很多元, 忽略了一个事实,就是这些学生 在相同的成长背景下长大。 这同样适用于经济情况。 一个在洛杉矶的墨西哥园丁, 和来自尼泊尔的管家, 在习惯和限制上有很多相同的地方, 比国籍显示出的意义还多。
Perhaps my biggest problem with coming from countries is the myth of going back to them. I'm often asked if I plan to "go back" to Ghana. I go to Accra every year, but I can't "go back" to Ghana. It's not because I wasn't born there. My father can't go back, either. The country in which he was born, that country no longer exists. We can never go back to a place and find it exactly where we left it. Something, somewhere will always have changed, most of all, ourselves. People.
可能我最大的问题在于 “来自于某个国家” 是回到那个国家的迷思。 我常被问到有没有 ”回“ 迦纳的打算。 我每年都会去阿克拉, 但我不会「回去」迦纳。 这不是因为我不在那里出生。 我父亲也不会回去 那个他出生的国家, 那个国家已不存在。 我们不会在故地重游时 发现所有的事情都是依旧的, 总有一些事情在改变。 大多数是我们自己改变了, 人。
Finally, what we're talking about is human experience, this notoriously and gloriously disorderly affair. In creative writing, locality bespeaks humanity. The more we know about where a story is set, the more local color and texture, the more human the characters start to feel, the more relatable, not less. The myth of national identity and the vocabulary of coming from confuses us into placing ourselves into mutually exclusive categories. In fact, all of us are multi -- multi-local, multi-layered. To begin our conversations with an acknowledgement of this complexity brings us closer together, I think, not further apart. So the next time that I'm introduced, I'd love to hear the truth: "Taiye Selasi is a human being, like everybody here. She isn't a citizen of the world, but a citizen of worlds. She is a local of New York, Rome and Accra."
最后,我们谈论的是人文的经历, 这个声名狼藉又 辉煌无比的混乱事件。 在创意写作中,地方性代表人性。 我们愈了解故事的发生地点, 地方色彩就越浓厚, 感受到的角色就越真实。 就越能产生认同感,而不是更少。 对国籍的迷思和从哪里来的词汇, 混淆了我们,使得我们置身于 相互排斥的类别中。 事实上,我们每一个人 都是多地方的,多层次的人。 以承认这样的复杂度 来开始我们的对话, 我觉得使得我们变得更近, 而不是更远。 所以在下一次我做自我介绍的时候, 我很乐意听到实话, “ Taipei Selasi 这个人, 就跟在座各位一样 ” “ 她不是某个地区的公民, 但是是多个地区的公民。 ” 她是个在地的纽约人, 罗马人和阿拉克人。
Thank you.
谢谢。
(Applause)
(掌声)