Jacqueline Woodson: What reading slowly taught me about writing | TED

Prevoditelj: Igor Pureta Recezent: Sanda L

A long time ago, there lived a Giant,

Nekoć, vrlo davno, živio je jedan Div,

a Selfish Giant, whose stunning garden was the most beautiful in all the land.

Sebičan Div, čiji je predivan vrt bio najljepši u cijeloj zemlji.

One evening, this Giant came home

Jedne se večeri Div vratio kući

and found all these children playing in his garden,

i našao djecu kako se igraju u njegovom vrtu.

and he became enraged.

Jako se razljutio.

"My own garden is my own garden!"

"Moj vrt je moj vrt!",

the Giant said.

rekao je Div.

And he built this high wall around it.

Izgradio je visok zid oko vrta.

The author Oscar Wilde wrote the story of "The Selfish Giant" in 1888.

Pisac Oscar Wilde napisao je priču o Sebičnom Divu 1888. godine.

Almost a hundred years later, that Giant moved into my Brooklyn childhood

Gotovo stotinu godina kasnije, taj se Div uselio u moje brooklynsko djetinjstvo

and never left.

i ostao tamo.

I was raised in a religious family,

Odgajana sam u religioznoj obitelji

and I grew up reading both the Bible and the Quran.

i rasla sam čitajući istovremeno i Bibliju i Kuran.

The hours of reading, both religious and recreational,

Sati čitanja, vezani i uz religiju i zabavu,

far outnumbered the hours of television-watching.

su daleko nadmašili sate gledanja televizije.

Now, on any given day, you could find my siblings and I

Svaki ste dan mogli pronaći moju braću, sestre i mene

curled up in some part of our apartment reading,

sklupčane u nekom dijelu stana kako čitamo.

sometimes unhappily,

Ponekad nam to nije bilo drago

because on summer days in New York City, the fire hydrant blasted,

jer je u vruće ljetne dane u New Yorku iz hidranta lijevala voda,

and to our immense jealousy, we could hear our friends down there

a mi smo mogli, na našu neizmjernu zavist, čuti naše prijatelje na ulici

playing in the gushing water,

kako se igraju mlazovima vode.

their absolute joy making its way up through our open windows.

Njihova je radost nalazila put kroz otvorene prozore.

But I learned that the deeper I went into my books,

Naučila sam da, što sam više udubljena u svoje knjige,

the more time I took with each sentence,

što više vremena provodim sa svakom rečenicom,

the less I heard the noise of the outside world.

to manje čujem buku vanjskog svijeta.

And so, unlike my siblings, who were racing through books,

Tako, za razliku od moje braće i sestara, koji su doslovno jurili kroz knjige,

I read slowly --

ja sam čitala sporo --

very, very slowly.

jako, jako sporo.

I was that child with her finger running beneath the words,

Ja sam bila ono dijete koje je vuklo prst od riječi do riječi

until I was untaught to do this; told big kids don't use their fingers.

dok me nisu odučili da to radim, govoreći da velika djeca ne koriste prste za čitanje.

In third grade, we were made to sit with our hands folded on our desk,

U trećem razredu tražili su da sjedimo prekriženih ruku na stolu

unclasping them only to turn the pages, then returning them to that position.

i smjeli smo ih pomaknuti samo da okrenemo list, a zatim vratimo u traženi položaj.

Our teacher wasn't being cruel.

Naša učiteljica nije bila okrutna.

It was the 1970s,

To je bilo 1970-ih.

and her goal was to get us reading not just on grade level

Njen je cilj bio naučiti nas čitati, ne samo na razini našeg uzrasta,

but far above it.

već i puno bolje.

And we were always being pushed to read faster.

Stalno su nas tražili da čitamo brže.

But in the quiet of my apartment, outside of my teacher's gaze,

No, u tišini mog stana, daleko od pogleda moje učiteljice,

I let my finger run beneath those words.

ja sam klizila prstom među riječima.

And that Selfish Giant again told me his story,

A taj Sebični Div mi je iznova pričao priču o tome

how he had felt betrayed by the kids sneaking into his garden,

kako se osjećao prevarenim od djece koja su se uvukla u njegov vrt,

how he had built this high wall,

kako je izgradio visok zid

and it did keep the children out,

koji je spriječio djecu da uđu.

but a grey winter fell over his garden

No, zima se spustila na njegov vrt

and just stayed and stayed.

i dugo se zadržala.

With each rereading, I learned something new

Sa svakim čitanjem naučila sam nešto novo.

about the hard stones of the roads that the kids were forced to play on

O oštrom kamenju na cestama na kojima su djeca bila prisiljena igrati se

when they got expelled from the garden,

kad su izbačena iz vrta,

about the gentleness of a small boy that appeared one day,

o blagosti malog dječaka koji se pojavio jednog dana,

and even about the Giant himself.

pa čak i o samom Divu.

Maybe his words weren't rageful after all.

Možda njegove riječi nisu bile pune bijesa.

Maybe they were a plea for empathy,

Možda su bile želja za empatijom,

for understanding.

za razumijevanjem.

"My own garden is my own garden."

"Moj vrt je moj vrt."

Years later, I would learn of a writer named John Gardner

Godinama kasnije doznala sam za pisca po imenu John Gardner,

who referred to this as the "fictive dream,"

koji je to nazivao "maštoviti san"

or the "dream of fiction,"

ili "san mašte",

and I would realize that this was where I was inside that book,

i shvatila sam da sam ja bila u toj knjizi,

spending time with the characters and the world that the author had created

provodeći vrijeme s likovima i u svijetu koji je stvorio pisac

and invited me into.

i pozvao me u njega.

As a child, I knew that stories were meant to be savored,

Kao dijete, znala sam da su te priče namijenjene užitku,

that stories wanted to be slow,

te su priče htjele biti polagane

and that some author had spent months, maybe years, writing them.

i da su neki pisci proveli mjesece, možda godine, pišući ih.

And my job as the reader --

Moj posao čitateljice --

especially as the reader who wanted to one day become a writer --

posebno čitateljice koja je jednog dana željela postati spisateljica --

was to respect that narrative.

je bio da poštujem pripovijest.

Long before there was cable or the internet or even the telephone,

Davno prije nego je postojala kabelska, internet ili čak telefon,

there were people sharing ideas and information and memory through story.

postojali su ljudi koji su pričom dijelili ideje, informacije i sjećanja.

It's one of our earliest forms of connective technology.

To je jedan od najranijih oblika tehnologije spajanja.

It was the story of something better down the Nile

Bila je to priča o nečem boljem dolje niz Nil

that sent the Egyptians moving along it,

koja je potaknula Egipćane da plove rijekom,

the story of a better way to preserve the dead

priča o boljem načinu da se očuvaju mrtvi,

that brought King Tut's remains into the 21st century.

koja je sačuvala ostatke kralja Tutankamona do 21. stoljeća.

And more than two million years ago,

Prije više od dva milijuna godina,

when the first humans began making tools from stone,

kad su prvi ljudi počeli izrađivati kameno oruđe,

someone must have said, "What if?"

netko je vjerojatno rekao: "Što ako?"

And someone else remembered the story.

I netko drugi se sjetio priče.

And whether they told it through words or gestures or drawings,

Bez obzira je li priča ispričana riječima, gestama ili crtežima,

it was passed down; remembered:

ona se prenosila, zapamtila:

hit a hammer and hear its story.

udri čekićem i poslušaj priču.

The world is getting noisier.

Svijet postaje bučniji.

We've gone from boomboxes

Prošli smo put od velikih kazetofona,

to Walkmen to portable CD players

preko Walkmena, prijenosnih CD playera

to iPods

i iPodova,

to any song we want, whenever we want it.

do bilo koje pjesme koju i kad god je želimo čuti.

We've gone from the four television channels of my childhood

Prošli smo put od četiri televizijska kanala mog djetinjstva

to the seeming infinity of cable and streaming.

do, čini se, beskonačnosti izbora na kablovskoj i internetu.

As technology moves us faster and faster through time and space,

Kako nas tehnologija sve brže i brže nosi kroz vrijeme i prostor,

it seems to feel like story is getting pushed out of the way,

čini se da se priča sve više zanemaruje.

I mean, literally pushed out of the narrative.

Mislim, i doslovno je se izbjegava u pripovijestima.

But even as our engagement with stories change,

Čak i ako se mijenja naš angažman uz priče

or the trappings around it morph from book to audio to Instagram to Snapchat,

ili se njena pojavnost prebacuje iz knjiga na čitane priče, Instagram ili Snapchat,

we must remember our finger beneath the words.

moramo se sjetiti našeg prsta među riječima.

Remember that story, regardless of the format,

Sjetite se da nas je priča, bez obzira na oblik,

has always taken us to places we never thought we'd go,

uvijek nosila do mjesta na koja nikad nismo mislili da ćemo ići,

introduced us to people we never thought we'd meet

upoznala s ljudima za koje nikad nismo mislili da ćemo ih upoznati

and shown us worlds that we might have missed.

i pokazala svjetove koje bismo propustili.

So as technology keeps moving faster and faster,

Kako se tehnologija sve brže i brže razvija,

I am good with something slower.

meni je dobro s nečim sporijim.

My finger beneath the words has led me to a life of writing books

Moj prst pod riječima me doveo u život pisanja knjiga

for people of all ages,

za ljude svih doba,

books meant to be read slowly,

knjiga koje su namijenjene sporom čitanju,

to be savored.

užitku.

My love for looking deeply and closely at the world,

Moja ljubav za dublji i bliži pogled na svijet,

for putting my whole self into it, and by doing so,

za davanje cijele sebe u njega, omogućila mi je

seeing the many, many possibilities of a narrative,

vidjeti mnoge, mnoge mogućnosti za razvoj priče

turned out to be a gift,

i pokazala se kao dar,

because taking my sweet time

jer moja sporost

taught me everything I needed to know about writing.

me naučila sve što sam trebala znati o pisanju.

And writing taught me everything I needed to know about creating worlds

A pisanje me naučilo sve što sam trebala znati o stvaranju svjetova

where people could be seen and heard,

u kojima se ljude može vidjeti i čuti,

where their experiences could be legitimized,

u kojima će njihovo iskustvo biti stvarno,

and where my story, read or heard by another person,

u kojima će druge osobe pročitati ili poslušati moju priču

inspired something in them that became a connection between us,

i biti inspirirane nečim u njima i stvoriti povezanost,

a conversation.

razgovor među nama.

And isn't that what this is all about --

Nije li to ono što je važno --

finding a way, at the end of the day, to not feel alone in this world,

na kraju dana pronaći put da se ne osjećamo usamljeni u ovom svijetu

and a way to feel like we've changed it before we leave?

i osjećati se kao da smo ga promijenili prije nego ga napustimo?

Stone to hammer, man to mummy,

Kamen u čekić, čovjek u mumiju,

idea to story -- and all of it, remembered.

ideja u priču i sve to zapamćeno.

Sometimes we read to understand the future.

Ponekad čitamo da bismo razumjeli budućnost.

Sometimes we read to understand the past.

Ponekad čitamo da bismo razumjeli prošlost.

We read to get lost, to forget the hard times we're living in,

Čitamo da bismo se izgubili, da zaboravimo teška vremena u kojima živimo,

and we read to remember those who came before us,

da se sjetimo onih koji su bili prije nas,

who lived through something harder.

koji su prošli kroz nešto teže.

I write for those same reasons.

Ja pišem iz istih razloga.

Before coming to Brooklyn, my family lived in Greenville, South Carolina,

Prije doseljavanja u Brooklyn, moja je obitelj živjela u Greenwilleu u J. Karolini

in a segregated neighborhood called Nicholtown.

u izdvojenom predgrađu zvanom Nicholtown.

All of us there were the descendants of a people

Svi mi tamo smo bili potomci ljudi

who had not been allowed to learn to read or write.

kojima je bilo zabranjeno učiti, čitati i pisati.

Imagine that:

Zamislite:

the danger of understanding how letters form words,

opasnost od razumijevanja kako slova stvaraju riječi,

the danger of words themselves,

opasnost od riječi samih,

the danger of a literate people and their stories.

opasnost od pismenih ljudi i njihovih priča.

But against this backdrop of being threatened with death

Usprkos saznanju da mogu biti kažnjeni smrću

for holding onto a narrative,

ako sačuvaju pripovijest,

our stories didn't die,

naše priče nisu umrle,

because there is yet another story beneath that one.

jer postoji još jedna priča u temeljima ove.

And this is how it has always worked.

I tako je to uvijek bivalo.

For as long as we've been communicating,

Otkad komuniciramo

there's been the layering to the narrative,

postoje različite razine pripovijesti,

the stories beneath the stories and the ones beneath those.

priče ispod priča i one ispod njih.

This is how story has and will continue to survive.

To je način kako je priča preživjela i kako će nastaviti preživljavati.

As I began to connect the dots that connected the way I learned to write

Kako sam počela spajati dijelove koji povezuju način na koji sam naučila pisati

and the way I learned to read

s načinom na koji sam naučila čitati,

to an almost silenced people,

s gotovo ušutkanim ljudima,

I realized that my story was bigger and older and deeper

shvatila sam da je moja priča veća, starija i dublja

than I would ever be.

nego što ću ja ikada biti.

And because of that, it will continue.

I upravo zbog toga, ona će živjeti.

Among these almost-silenced people

Među tim gotovo ušutkanim ljudima

there were the ones who never learned to read.

bilo je onih koji nikada nisu naučili čitati.

Their descendants, now generations out of enslavement,

Njihovi su potomci, generacije oslobođene ropstva,

if well-off enough,

ako su bili dovoljno imućni,

had gone on to college, grad school, beyond.

krenuli na fakultet, završili škole i dalje od toga.

Some, like my grandmother and my siblings, seemed to be born reading,

Za neke se, poput moje bake, braće i sestara, činilo da znaju čitati od rođenja

as though history stepped out of their way.

kao da povijest za njih nikada nije postojala.

Some, like my mother, hitched onto the Great Migration wagon --

Neki su se, poput moje majke, popeli na vagon Velike migracije --

which was not actually a wagon --

koja zapravo nije bila vagon --

and kissed the South goodbye.

i oprostili se s Jugom.

But here is the story within that story:

Ali postoji i priča unutar te priče:

those who left and those who stayed

oni koji su otišli i oni koji su ostali,

carried with them the history of a narrative,

noseći sa sobom povijest pripovijesti,

knew deeply that writing it down wasn't the only way they could hold on to it,

znali su da zapisati je nije jedini način na koji je mogu sačuvati,

knew they could sit on their porches or their stoops at the end of a long day

znali su da mogu sjediti na svojim trijemovima, stepeništima na kraju dugog dana

and spin a slow tale for their children.

i započeti polaganu priču za svoju djecu.

They knew they could sing their stories through the thick heat of picking cotton

Znali su da mogu pjevati svoje priče u gustoj vrućini dok beru pamuk

and harvesting tobacco,

ili duhan.

knew they could preach their stories and sew them into quilts,

Znali su da mogu propovijedati svoje priče i ušiti ih u tkanja,

turn the most painful ones into something laughable,

pretvarajući i one najbolnije u nešto smiješno

and through that laughter, exhale the history a country

i tim smijehom izdisati povijest zemlje

that tried again and again and again

koja je uvijek iznova i iznova pokušala

to steal their bodies,

ukrasti njihova tijela,

their spirit

njihov duh

and their story.

i njihovu priču.

So as a child, I learned to imagine an invisible finger

Kao dijete, naučila sam zamišljati nevidljiv prst

taking me from word to word,

koji me vodi od riječi od riječi,

from sentence to sentence,

od rečenice do rečenice,

from ignorance to understanding.

od neznanja do razumijevanja.

So as technology continues to speed ahead,

I kako tehnologija nastavlja brzati naprijed,

I continue to read slowly,

ja nastavljam čitati sporo,

knowing that I am respecting the author's work

znajući da poštujem piščev rad

and the story's lasting power.

i trajnu snagu priče.

And I read slowly to drown out the noise

I čitam polako kako bih smanjila buku

and remember those who came before me,

i zapamtila one koji su došli prije mene,

who were probably the first people who finally learned to control fire

vjerojatno prve ljude koji su napokon naučili upravljati vatrom

and circled their new power

i zagospodarili njihovom novom moći

of flame and light and heat.

nad plamenom, svjetlom i toplinom.

And I read slowly to remember the Selfish Giant,

I čitam polako da se sjetim Sebičnog Diva

how he finally tore that wall down

koji je napokon srušio taj zid

and let the children run free through his garden.

i dozvolio djeci da slobodno trče njegovim vrtom.

And I read slowly to pay homage to my ancestors,

I čitam polako kako bih odala počast mojim precima,

who were not allowed to read at all.

kojima je bilo zabranjeno čitati.

They, too, must have circled fires,

I oni su morali zagospodariti vatrama,

speaking softly of their dreams,

nježno pričajući o svojim snovima,

their hopes, their futures.

svojim nadama, svojim budućnostima.

Each time we read, write or tell a story,

Svaki put kad čitamo, pišemo ili pričamo priču,

we step inside their circle,

mi ulazimo u njihov krug,

and it remains unbroken.

koji ostaje cio.

And the power of story lives on.

A snaga priče živi dalje.

Thank you.

Hvala vam.

(Applause)

(Pljesak)