"You Have the Rite" | Marc Bamuthi Joseph

翻译人员: psjmz mz 校对人员: Cong Liu

Me and the boy wear the same shoe size.

我和我儿子的鞋码是一样的。

He wants a pair of Air Jordan 4s for Christmas.

他想要一双Air Jordan 4s 的鞋作为圣诞礼物。

I buy them,

于是我买了一双，

and then I steal them from his closet,

但又从他的衣柜里偷出了这双鞋，

like a twisted Grinch-themed episode of "Black-ish."

就像黑人家庭剧里出现了 偷走圣诞礼物的绿毛鬼精灵。

(Laughter)

（笑声）

The kicks are totems to my youth.

在我年轻时，这些鞋就像图腾一般。

I wear them like mercury on my Black man feet.

我穿上它们就像踩着福特水星汽车，

I can't get those young freedom days back fast enough.

但跑得再快也找不回那些 年轻的自由时光。

Last time I was really fast I was 16,

16岁的我跑得飞快， 有一次我狂奔着

outrunning a doorman on the Upper East Side.

想甩掉上东区的一个看门人。

He caught me vandalizing his building,

他抓到我在破坏他看守的建筑，

not even on some artsy stuff,

甚至是点儿艺术品也不行，

just ... stupid.

我那时候太傻了。

Of all the genders, boys are the stupidest.

在所有性别中，男孩是最傻的。

(Laughter)

（笑声）

Sixteen was a series of barely getting away

16岁时，我好几次差点被警察抓到，

and never telling my parents.

而我从不告诉我的父母。

I assume that my son is stewarding this tradition well.

我觉得我的儿子 也很好继承了这一传统。

Sixteen was "The Low End Theory" and Marvin Gaye on repeat.

16岁是循环播放《低端理论》专辑 和沉浸在马文·盖伊歌声的年纪。

Sixteen is younger than Trayvon and older than Emmett Till.

16岁比被警察枪杀的特拉伊冯年轻， 比无辜被残害致死的艾默特·蒂尔年长。

At the DMV, my boy's in line to officially enter his prime suspect years:

在车管所，我儿子在排队领取驾照， 等待正式迈入“头号犯罪嫌疑人”生涯：

young, brown and behind the wheel,

年纪轻轻，棕色皮肤，可以驾车，

a moving semaphore, signaling the threat of communities from below.

他如同一个移动的标识， 是从下层社区发出的威胁信号。

On top of the food chain, humans have no natural predator,

在食物链的顶端，人类没有天敌，

but America plays out something genetically embedded and instinctual

但美国人对黑人的“兴趣”

in its appetite for the Black body.

却是与生俱来的。

America guns down Black bodies and then walks around them,

美国人枪杀黑人， 然后从他们身边走过，

bored,

百无聊赖，

like laconic lions next to half-eaten gazelles,

就像在瞪羚被啃食过的尸体旁 悄无声息的狮子，

bloody lips ...

满嘴鲜血——

"America and the Black Body" on some Nat Geo shit.

仿佛活生生就出自 国家地理的《美国与黑体》。

Well, he passes his road test at the DMV.

他通过了车管所的路考。

He does this strut C-Walk broken "Fortnite" thing

在去完成相关手续的上，

on the way in to finish his paperwork,

他得意洋洋的扭着欢快的舞步，

true joy and calibrated cool under the eye of my filming iPhone,

我手机镜头中的他 是那么快乐无比，朝气蓬勃，

the victory dance of someone who has just salvaged a draw.

如同跳着刚刚扳回一球 的胜利之舞。

He's earned this win, but he's so 16

他赢了，但他才16岁，

he can't quite let his body be fully free.

身体还不能完全放开。

When he's three,

当他3岁时，

I'm in handcuffs in downtown Oakland.

我在奥克兰市中心被捕了。

Five minutes ago, I was illegally parked.

5分钟前，我非法停车。

Now I'm in the back of a squad car, considering the odds that I'm going to die

现在我坐在警车的后面， 想着自己可能要完蛋了，

here, 15 minutes away from my son who expects that in 18 minutes,

这里离我儿子的幼儿园 只有15分钟的路程，

daddy's gonna pick him up from preschool.

他还在期待18分钟后爸爸会去接他。

There are no pocket-size cameras to capture this moment, so.

那时候还没有口袋大小 的相机来捕捉这一刻。

I learned a lot of big words when I was 16 getting ready for the SAT,

当我16岁准备SAT的时候， 我学到了很多重要的单词，

but none of them come to me now.

但现在我一个都不记得了。

In the police car, the only thing that really speaks is my skin.

在警车上，我的肤色 仿佛说明了一切。

I know this:

我只知道：

I was parked on a bus zone on 12th and Broadway,

我把车停在12街和百老汇大街 的公共汽车站上，

running to the ATM on the corner.

跑向拐角处的自动取款机。

I pull the cash out just as a police car pulls up behind me,

警察把车停到我后面时， 我正好把钱掏出来，

give him the "Aw shucks, my bad," that earnest Black man face.

我那黑色的面孔仿佛给了他 一种“哎呀，被抓到了。”的表情，

He waits till I'm back in the car and then hits the siren,

他一直等我回到车上， 然后按响了警铃，

takes my license with his hand on the gun,

他手握着枪拿走了我的驾照，

comes back two minutes later, gun drawn, another patrol car now, four cops now,

两分钟后回来，拔出了枪， 又来了一辆巡逻车，现在是四个警察了，

my face on the curb, hands behind my back, shackled.

我的脸被按在路边，双手 被扭在身后，戴上了镣铐。

I'm angry and humiliated, only until I'm scared and then sad.

我感到愤怒和羞辱， 后来又变成害怕和悲伤，

I smell like the last gasp before my own death.

觉得自己马上就要一命呜呼了。

I think how long the boy will wait before he realizes

我在想，儿子要等多久才知道

that daddy is not on his way.

爸爸不会来了。

I think his last barely formed memory of me

我想，他对我的最后模糊记忆

will be the story of how I never came for him.

将会是我没有如约而来， 让他失望至极。

I try to telepathically say goodbye.

我试着用心灵感应的方式说再见。

The silence brings me no peace.

沉默没给我带来平静。

The quiet makes it hard to rest.

寂静更让我如坐针毡。

In the void there is anger mushrooming in the moss at the base of my thoughts,

我的大脑一片空白，而思绪深处 的愤怒却如雨后春笋般不断涌现，

a fungus growing on the spine of my freedom attempts.

我在争取自由的路上举步维艰。

I'm free from all except contempt,

除了蔑视之外，我什么都没有，

the spirit of an unarmed civilian in the time of civil unrest,

这是一个手无寸铁的平民 在社会动荡时期的精神，

no peace, just Marvin Gaye falsettos arching like a broken-winged sparrow,

没有平静，只有马文·盖伊的假音 如断翅的麻雀在空中飘荡，

competing against the empty sirens,

对抗苍白的

singing the police.

警笛声。

Apparently some cat from Richmond had a warrant out on him,

显然里士满市有人吃了张搜查令，

and when the cop says my name to dispatch, dude doesn't hear "Marc Joseph,"

当警察叫我的名字时， 这家伙没听见“马克·约瑟夫”，

he hears "Mike Johnson."

而是听成了“迈克·约翰逊。”

I count seven cars and 18 cops on the corner now,

我数到现在，街角一共有 7辆车和18个警察，

a pride around a pound of flesh.

对着我这囊中之物得意洋洋。

By the grace of God, I'm not fed to the beast today.

感谢上帝，我今天逃过一劫。

Magnanimously, the first cop makes sure to give me a ticket

第一个警察高抬贵手， 给我开了张公交车区

违规停车的罚单，

for parking in a bus zone,

before he sets me free.

然后就让我走了。

The boy is 16.

孩子16岁了。

He has a license to drive in the hollow city,

他有了驾照，可以 在这座空空荡荡的城里开车,

enough body to fill my shoes.

个子高到能穿得上我的鞋。

I have grey in my beard,

我的胡子开始变白了，

and it tells the truth.

暴露了我日渐苍老的真相。

He can navigate traffic in the age of autonomous vehicles.

在自动驾驶时代， 他能在车流中自由穿行。

You know, people say "the talk,"

人们说的“谈话”，

like the thing happens just once,

就像事情只发生一次，

like my memory's been erased and my internet is broken,

好像我的记忆被抹去了， 好像我的互联网掉线了，

like I can't read today's martyred name,

好像我读不懂 今天的殉道者名字一样，

like today's the day that I don't love my son enough

好像今天我不够爱孩子，

to tell him, "Bro, I really don't care about your rights, yo.

无法告诉他，“小伙子， 我真不在乎你的权利，

Your mission is to get home to me.

你的任务是安全回家。

Live to tell me the story, boy.

活着告诉我你的故事，孩子，

Get home to me."

安全回家，回到我身边。”

Today's talk is mostly happening in my head

今天，当他把车开上高速公路， 马文·盖伊的声音从收音机里传出，

as he pulls onto the freeway and Marvin Gaye comes on the radio.

这段谈话就在我的脑海里浮现。

I'm wearing the boy's shoes,

我穿着这孩子的鞋子，

and the tune in my head is the goodbye that I almost never said,

脑海中的旋律是我 几乎从未说过的再见，

a goodbye the length of a requiem,

如安魂曲般绵长，

a kiss, a whiff of his neck,

如同一个吻， 他脖子上的一缕气味，

the length of a revelation

又长如启示录,

and a request flying high in the friendly sky

带着在亲切宁静的天空中 高高飞翔的一个请求，

without ever leaving the ground.

却没有离开地面。

My pain is a walking bass line,

我的痛苦低沉的徘徊着，

a refrain, placated stress against the fading baseline.

如同一段旋律在缓解压力， 对抗不断消逝的底线。

Listen, this is not to be romantic,

各位，这毫无浪漫可言，

but to assert a plausible scenario for the existential moment.

而是为当下找到一个合理的解释。

Driving while Black is its own genre of experience.

黑人驾驶是一种独特的体验。

Ask Marvin.

问一问马文。

It may not be the reason why you sing like an angel,

这可能不是你有天使般嗓音的原因，

but it surely has something to do with why heaven bends to your voice.

但肯定与上天为什么 俯听你的声音有关。

The boy driving, the cop in the rearview mirror

男孩在前面开车， 后视镜里的警察

is a ticket to ride or die.

可能随时开出一张 生死攸关的罚单。

When you give a Black boy "the talk,"

当你跟一个黑人男孩“交谈”时，

you pray he is of the faction of the fraction that survives.

你祈祷他是幸存下来 的那一小部分人。

You pitch him the frequency of your telepathic goodbye,

你不断向他投去 你心灵感应式的告别，

channel the love sustained in Marvin's upper register

通过马文无边帽檐下的上音区

under his skullcap.

把持续的爱传递给他。

Black music at its best

最好的黑人音乐

is an exploded black hole

是一个爆炸的黑洞，

responding to the call of America at its worst.

回应着美国在最糟情况下的号召。

Strike us down, the music lives,

我们会倒下，但音乐永存，

dark, like tar or tobacco

深色如焦油或烟草，

or cotton in muddy water.

或在泥水中的棉花。

Get home to me, son.

安全回家，孩子。

Like a love supreme, a god as love,

像至高无上的爱，神之爱，

a love overrules,

压倒一切的爱，

feathers for the angelic lift of the restless dead,

像帮助不安的亡灵 升入天国的羽毛，

like a theme for trouble man,

像一个马文的《麻烦者》主题，

or a 16-year-old boy, free to make mistakes and live through them,

或一个16岁的男孩， 可以自由地犯错误，并在错误中生活，

grow from them,

在错误中成长，

holy, holy, mercy, mercy me,

上帝，上帝，怜悯我，宽恕我，

mercy,

怜悯我，

mercy.

宽恕我吧。

Thank you.

谢谢。

(Applause)

（鼓掌）