Hannah Brencher: Love letters to strangers

Translator: Joseph Geni Reviewer: Morton Bast

Translator: Nikolaj Lyhne Reviewer: Anders Finn Jørgensen

I was one of the only kids in college who had a reason

Jeg var en af de eneste elever i college, der havde en grund

to go to the P.O. box at the end of the day,

til at gå til dueslaget ved enden af dagen,

and that was mainly because my mother has never believed

og det var for det meste på grund af at min mor aldrig har troet

in email, in Facebook, in texting or cell phones in general.

på email, Facebook, sms'er, eller mobiltelefoner.

And so while other kids were BBM-ing their parents,

I det andre børn "BBMede" deres forældre,

I was literally waiting by the mailbox

stod jeg bogstaveligt talt og ventede ved postkassen

to get a letter from home to see how the weekend had gone,

på at brevet hvori min mor skrev hvordan weekenden var gået skulle ankomme,

which was a little frustrating when Grandma was in the hospital,

hvilket var frustrerende da min bedstemor var på hospitalet,

but I was just looking for some sort of scribble,

men jeg ventede bare på den lille hilsen

some unkempt cursive from my mother.

skrevet i min mors kragetæer.

And so when I moved to New York City after college

Så da jeg flyttede til New York efter college

and got completely sucker-punched in the face by depression,

og blev slået hovedkulds ud i en depression

I did the only thing I could think of at the time.

gjorde jeg det eneste jeg det første som slog mig ind.

I wrote those same kinds of letters that my mother had written me

Jeg skrev breve i stil med min mors

for strangers, and tucked them all throughout the city,

til fremmede, og efterladte dem

dozens and dozens of them. I left them everywhere,

i bunkevis overalt i byen.

in cafes and in libraries, at the U.N., everywhere.

I caféer og på biblioteker, ved FN, overalt.

I blogged about those letters and the days

Jeg bloggede om disse breve og de dage

when they were necessary, and I posed

hvor de viste sig nødvendige, og jeg gav

a kind of crazy promise to the Internet:

et rimeligt skørt løfte på internettet:

that if you asked me for a hand-written letter,

At hvis man bad mig om et hånd-skrevet brev,

I would write you one, no questions asked.

ville jeg skrive dig et, uden at stille spørgsmål.

Overnight, my inbox morphed into this harbor of heartbreak --

Natten over forvandledes min indbakke til banegård for hjertebrud --

a single mother in Sacramento, a girl being bullied

en enlig mor i Sacramento, en pige fra landet i Kansas

in rural Kansas, all asking me, a 22-year-old girl

som blev mobbet, alle bad mig, en 22-årig pige

who barely even knew her own coffee order,

som knap nok kendte sin egen baghave,

to write them a love letter and give them a reason

om at skrive dem et kærestebrev og give dem en grund

to wait by the mailbox.

til at vente ved postkassen.

Well, today I fuel a global organization

Og i dag står jeg bag en global organisation

that is fueled by those trips to the mailbox,

op-bakket af af disse postkassebesøg,

fueled by the ways in which we can harness social media

ved hjælp af alle de måder vi kan drage nytte af sociale medier

like never before to write and mail strangers letters

til at skrive og afsende breve til fremmede

when they need them most, but most of all,

i nød, men frem for alt

fueled by crates of mail like this one, my trusty mail crate,

drives vi af kasser som denne, min trofaste kasse

filled with the scriptings of ordinary people,

fyldt med beskeder fra hvem som helst,

strangers writing letters to other strangers not because

breve skrevet af fremmede, til fremmede, ikke fordi

they're ever going to meet and laugh over a cup of coffee,

de nogensinde vil mødes og hygge sig over en kop kaffe,

but because they have found one another by way of letter-writing.

men fordi de har fundet hinanden ved hjælp af breve.

But, you know, the thing that always gets me

Men det der altid slår mig

about these letters is that most of them have been written

ved de her breve er, at de fleste af dem er skrevet

by people that have never known themselves loved on a piece of paper.

af folk som aldrig selv har følt kærligheden fra et brev.

They could not tell you about the ink of their own love letters.

De kunne ikke fortælle dig om ordene i deres egne kærlighedsbreve.

They're the ones from my generation,

Det er dem fra min generation,

the ones of us that have grown up into a world

dem som er vokset op i en

where everything is paperless, and where some

papirløs verden, hvor nogle af

of our best conversations have happened upon a screen.

vores bedste samtaler foregik på en skærm.

We have learned to diary our pain onto Facebook,

Vi har lært at dele vores smerter på Facebook,

and we speak swiftly in 140 characters or less.

og vi bruger ikke mere end 140 tegn.

But what if it's not about efficiency this time?

Men hvad nu hvis det nu ikke handler om effektivitet?

I was on the subway yesterday with this mail crate,

I går var jeg med metroen sammen med min kasse,

which is a conversation starter, let me tell you.

hvilket virkelig starter sammentaler, kan jeg godt sige jer,

If you ever need one, just carry one of these. (Laughter)

hvis i nogensinde har brug for en, så gå bare rundt men sådan en her.

And a man just stared at me, and he was like,

Og en mand stirrede bare på mig, og spurgte:

"Well, why don't you use the Internet?"

"Jamen, hvorfor bruger du ikke bare internettet?"

And I thought, "Well, sir, I am not a strategist,

Og jeg tænkte bare, "Men hr., jeg er ikke nogen strateg,

nor am I specialist. I am merely a storyteller."

heller ikke en specialist. Jeg er bare en fortæller."

And so I could tell you about a woman

Jeg kunne fortælle dig om en kvinde

whose husband has just come home from Afghanistan,

hvis mand lige var hjemvendt fra Afghanistan,

and she is having a hard time unearthing this thing called conversation,

hun havde svært ved at genoplive det med af have samtaler,

and so she tucks love letters throughout the house

så hun lægger små kærlighedsbreve rundt omkring i huset

as a way to say, "Come back to me.

som en måde at sige, "Kom tilbage til mig.

Find me when you can."

Find mig når du kan."

Or a girl who decides that she is going to leave love letters

Eller om en pige som har besluttet sig for at efterlade kærlighedsbreve

around her campus in Dubuque, Iowa, only to find

på hendes kollegium i Dubuque, Iowa, og derefter

her efforts ripple-effected the next day when she walks out

for at opdage næste dag hvordan da hun går ud

onto the quad and finds love letters hanging

i gården og finder kærlighedsbreve hængende

from the trees, tucked in the bushes and the benches.

fra træer, gemt i buskene og på bænkene.

Or the man who decides that he is going to take his life,

Eller om manden, der ville gøre en ende på det hele,

uses Facebook as a way to say goodbye

som brugte facebook til at sige farvel

to friends and family.

til venner og familie.

Well, tonight he sleeps safely with a stack of letters

I nat sover han trygt med en stak breve

just like this one tucked beneath his pillow,

som denne, gemt under hovedpuden,

scripted by strangers who were there for him when.

skrevet af fremmede som da var der for ham.

These are the kinds of stories that convinced me

Sådanne historier overbeviste mig

that letter-writing will never again need to flip back her hair

at brevskrivning aldrig igen behøves at blive set ned på

and talk about efficiency, because she is an art form now,

eller belært om effektivitet, fordi hun er nu en kunstform,

all the parts of her, the signing, the scripting, the mailing,

alle dele af hende, underskriften, skriveriet, afsendingen,

the doodles in the margins.

krusedullerne i marginerne.

The mere fact that somebody would even just sit down,

Den simple viden om at nogen ville sætte sig ned,

pull out a piece of paper and think about someone

finde et stykke papir frem og tænke på nogen

the whole way through, with an intention that is so much

til vejs ende, med en intention langt sværere

harder to unearth when the browser is up and the iPhone

at finde frem når browseren er åben eller når telefonen

is pinging and we've got six conversations rolling in at once,

meddeler at vi har seks samtaler kørende på en gang,

that is an art form

en kunstform

that does not fall down to the Goliath of "get faster,"

som ikke bliver formindsket til et simpelt "bliv hurtigere",

no matter how many social networks we might join.

uanset hvor mange sociale medier vi tilslutter os.

We still clutch close these letters to our chest,

Vi holder os stadig nært disse breve,

to the words that speak louder than loud,

disse ord der taler højere end højt

when we turn pages into palettes to say the things

når vi forvandler papirer til lærreder for at sige de ting

that we have needed to say,

som vi har manglet at sige,

the words that we have needed to write, to sisters

de ord vi har manglet at skrive, til søstre

and brothers and even to strangers, for far too long.

til brødre, selv til fremmede, i alt for lang tid.

Thank you. (Applause)

Mange tak.

(Applause)

(klapsalve)