Chinaka Hodge: What will you tell your daughters about 2016? | TED

Translator: Joseph Geni Reviewer: Joanna Pietrulewicz

Translator: Raimonds Jaks Reviewer: Kristaps Kadiķis

Tell your daughters of this year,

Stāstiet meitām par šo gadu,

how we woke needing coffee

kā modāmies dzert kafiju,

but discovered instead cadavers strewn about our morning papers,

bet ieraudzījām līķus, izkaisītus rīta laikraksta slejās,

waterlogged facsimiles of our sisters, spouses, small children.

izmirkušus faksimilus par mūsu māsām, sievām un maziem bērniem.

Say to your baby of this year when she asks, as she certainly should,

Sakiet savai šī gada mazulītei, kad viņa jautās, jo noteikti gribēs zināt,

tell her it was too late coming.

sakiet, ka bija par vēlu glābt.

Admit even in the year we leased freedom, we didn't own it outright.

Atzīstiet, ka togad, kad īrējām brīvību, tā mums līdz galam nepiederēja.

There were still laws for every way we used our privates

Arvien bija likumi, ko mums darīt ar saviem dzimumorgāniem,

while they pawed at the soft folds of us,

kamēr viņi gramstījās gar mūsu mīkstumiem,

grabbed with no concern for consent,

grābstījās, neprasot piekrišanas,

no laws made for the men that enforced them.

un nebija likumu vīriešiem, kas likumus ieviesa.

We were trained to dodge,

Mums mācīja izvairīties,

to wait, to cower and cover,

gaidīt, sarauties un patverties,

to wait more, still, wait.

arvien gaidīt, vēl gaidīt.

We were told to be silent.

Mums lika klusēt.

But speak to your girls of this wartime,

Bet stāstiet savām meitām par šo karalaiku,

a year preceded by a score of the same,

par gadu, pirms kura bija vēl viens tāds pats;

so as in two decades before,

kā pirms diviem desmitiem gadu

we wiped our eyes,

mēs izberzām acis,

laced caskets with flags,

apvijām zārkus ar karogiem,

evacuated the crime scene of the club,

evakuējām nozieguma vietu klubā,

caterwauled in the street,

kā kaķes kaucām uz ielas,

laid our bodies on the concrete against the outlines of our fallen,

gūlāmies uz betona savu kritušo kontūrās,

cried, "Of course we mattered,"

saucām: „Protams, mēs esam svarīgas,”

chanted for our disappeared.

saucām savus pazudušos.

The women wept this year.

Šogad sievietes raudāja.

They did.

Raudāja gan.

In the same year, we were ready.

Tajā pašā gadā mēs bijām gatavas.

The year we lost our inhibition and moved with courageous abandon

Gadā, kad pārstājām vilcināties un drosmīgi devāmies prom,

was also the year we stared down barrels,

mēs arī aci pret aci sastapām stobrus,

sang of cranes in skies, ducked and parried,

dziedājām par dzērvēm debesīs,

sarāvušās un izvairīgas, tvērām zeltu hidžābā, vācām nāves draudus,

caught gold in hijab, collected death threats,

knew ourselves as patriots,

saucām sevi par patriotēm,

said, "We're 35 now, time we settled down and found a running mate,"

teicām: „Nu mums ir 35, laiks dibināt ģimeni un atrast skriešanas biedru,”

made road maps for infant joy, shamed nothing but fear,

kalām plānus bērnu priekiem, kauns bija vien par bailēm,

called ourselves fat and meant, of course,

saucām sevi par resnām un ar to domājām, protams,

impeccable.

nevainojamas.

This year, we were women,

Šogad mēs bijām sievietes,

not brides or trinkets,

nevis līgavas vai greznumlietas,

not an off-brand gender,

nevis lētā gala dzimums,

not a concession, but women.

nevis koncesija, bet sievietes.

Instruct your babies.

Māciet savas mazulītes.

Remind them that the year has passed to be docile or small.

Atgādiniet viņām, ka paklausības un vājuma gads ir garām.

Some of us said for the first time that we were women,

Dažas no mums pirmoreiz teica, ka esam sievietes,

took this oath of solidarity seriously.

deva šo solidaritātes zvērestu visā nopietnībā.

Some of us bore children and some of us did not,

Dažas no mums dzemdēja bērnus, bet citas ne,

and none of us questioned whether that made us real

un neviena nejautāja, vai tas mūs darīja īstākas,

or appropriate or true.

pareizākas vai patiesākas.

When she asks you of this year,

Kad viņa tev jautās par šo gadu,

your daughter, whether your offspring or heir to your triumph,

tava meita, – vienalga, atvase vai triumfa mantiniece –,

from her comforted side of history teetering towards woman,

no vēstures ērtākās puses, pati kļūstot par sievieti,

she will wonder and ask voraciously,

viņa jautās un kāri tvers katru vārdu,

though she cannot fathom your sacrifice,

kaut arī nespēs aptvert tavu upuri,

she will hold your estimation of it holy,

tavs stāsts par to viņai būs svēts.

curiously probing, "Where were you?

Ziņkārē viņa jautās: „Kur biji tu?

Did you fight? Were you fearful or fearsome?

Vai cīnījies? Vai biji bailīga vai bezbailīga?

What colored the walls of your regret?

Kas krāsoja tavus nožēlas mūrus?

What did you do for women in the year it was time?

Ko darīji sieviešu labā gadā, kad bija pienācis laiks?

This path you made for me, which bones had to break?

Kuriem kauliem bija jālūst par šo man sagatavoto ceļu?

Did you do enough, and are you OK, momma?

Vai tu darīji pietiekoši, un vai ar tevi viss kārtībā, mamm?

And are you a hero?"

Un vai tu esi varone?”

She will ask the difficult questions.

Viņa uzdos grūtos jautājumus.

She will not care about the arc of your brow,

Viņai nerūpēs tavs uzacs izliekums,

the weight of your clutch.

tavas somiņas svars.

She will not ask of your mentions.

Viņa nejautās, ko par tevi runāja.

Your daughter, for whom you have already carried so much, wants to know

Tava meita, kuras labā jau tik daudz esi pūlējusies, grib zināt,

what you brought, what gift, what light did you keep from extinction?

ko sniedzi tu, kādu dāvanu, kādu liesmu paglābi no izdzišanas.

When they came for victims in the night,

Kad tie naktī nāca meklēt upurus,

did you sleep through it or were you roused?

vai izlikies nemanām vai cēlies augšā?

Ko maksāja negulēšana?

What was the cost of staying woke?

What, in the year we said time's up, what did you do with your privilege?

Ko tajā gadā, kad teicām, laiks beidzies, ko darīji ar tev sniegto izdevību?

Did you sup on others' squalor?

Vai malkoji citu nevīžību?

Did you look away or directly into the flame?

Vai novērsies vai skatījies tieši liesmā?

Did you know your skill or treat it like a liability?

Vai zināji savas prasmes, vai uzskatīji tās par apgrūtinājumu?

Were you fooled by the epithets of "nasty" or "less than"?

Vai ļāvi piemuļķot sevi ar epitetiem „nejauka” un „mazāk vērta”?

Did you teach with an open heart or a clenched fist?

Vai mācīji ar atvērtu sirdi vai sažņaugtu dūri?

Where were you?

Kur biji tu?

Tell her the truth. Make it your life.

Stāsti viņai patiesību. Lai tā ir tava dzīve.

Confirm it. Say, "Daughter, I stood there

Apstiprini. Saki: „Meitiņ, es tur biju,

with the moment drawn on my face like a dagger,

kad laiks kā duncis man dūrās sejā,

and flung it back at itself,

bet atsprāga atpakaļ dūrējam pašam un nogrieza telpas gabalu tev.”

slicing space for you."

Tell her the truth, how you lived in spite of crooked odds.

Stāsti viņai taisnību, kā dzīvoji par spīti netaisnībai.

Tell her you were brave,

Stāsti viņai par savu drosmi,

and always, always in the company of courage,

un vienmēr, vienmēr drosmes pavadīta,

mostly the days when you just had yourself.

pārsvarā dienās, kad biji viena.

Tell her she was born as you were,

Stāsti viņai, ka viņa dzima tāpat kā tu,

as your mothers before, and the sisters beside them,

kā tavas mātes pirms tevis un māsas viņām blakus,

in the age of legends, like always.

leģendu laikā, kā vienmēr.

Tell her she was born just in time,

Saki viņai, ka viņa dzimusi tieši laikā,

just in time

tieši laikā,

to lead.

lai kļūtu par vadoni.

(Applause)

(Aplausi)