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  • There are some chasms so deep and so wide,

  • we find it hard to imagine how we'll ever make it to the other side.

  • That space between who we are and who we want to be,

  • the gaps between our high ideals

  • and our base realities.

  • The distance between what we say

  • and what we really mean.

  • The raging river that flows between what actually happened

  • and our convenient memories.

  • The lies we tell ourselves are lakes,

  • overflowing their banks,

  • flooding our speech with waters, caustic and rank.

  • The only bridge is the truth,

  • passing through me and you, as we look one another eye to eye.

  • But so often, that look is filled with our hesitations,

  • and we can't help but glance to the side.

  • See, we've long ago let go of the language

  • with which we describe our softer parts.

  • We learn early that those with softer hearts suffer.

  • So we allow lean emotion to reign,

  • never noticing that only strain has been the fruit of our restraints.

  • We haven't escaped pain.

  • And our battle scars are far from faint.

  • Yet and still, despite our desire and willingness to heal,

  • we often find ourselves fighting hard in the paint,

  • holding onto false images of everything we ain't.

  • So while our dream coincide, our fears collide.

  • And we want to know one another, but think we can't.

  • The gulf between empathy and equity

  • is as unfathomable as the fissures that line our collective integrity.

  • And we spend eternal eternities

  • trying to translate that into virtue.

  • Perhaps you have met one or two of the virtuous on your path.

  • They are only very few,

  • and I know that I have, from time to time,

  • mistaken pretenders for real,

  • yet still make room for the possibility that it's I who's been pretending.

  • Please, bear with me, I'm still mending,

  • but I'm no longer bending to the will of my injuries,

  • nor my injurers.

  • I much prefer to stretch my arms like Nüt until I become the sky.

  • I'd rather stretch my tongue with truth,

  • our bridge to cross when we look one another in the eye.

  • But the tongue, like the heart, gets tired.

  • The weak make it hard for the strong to stay inspired,

  • like the lost prevent the found from escaping the mire,

  • and the degraded stop the enlightened from taking us higher.

  • But no matter what you hear from the mouths of these liars,

  • we are one people

  • with one destiny and the common enemy,

  • that's why it really stresses me to see our hearts so tattered,

  • our minds so scattered,

  • our egos so easily flattered.

  • We're enslaved, yet think of our shackles as gifts.

  • Rather than resist our masters, we let them widen our rifts,

  • like mindless, material junkies,

  • we seek that which lowers, not lifts.

  • But somewhere in our midst,

  • there's been a paradigm shift.

  • Justice is getting restless in its chains.

  • Our youth find it useless to separate their souls from their brains,

  • their truth is ingrained, their integrity insustained.

  • Let me call your attention to those who serve as examples.

  • Those who daily give their all,

  • but their reserves are still ample.

  • Those who battle friend and foe,

  • yet their hope is never trampled,

  • they make music, never sample,

  • and the world's ugly could never cancel

  • the fullness and the sweetness of their composition.

  • Nor the unadulterated truth of their mission.

  • It's time we shut our mouths and listen.

  • Close our eyes and pray

  • for the humility and the guidance

  • to follow them to the way.

  • Thank you.

  • (Applause)

  • (Cheers)

  • Thank you.

  • (Applause)

  • (Cheers)

  • Thank you.

  • (Applause)

  • Thank you all so much,

  • you have no idea how fulfilling and energizing that is.

  • For the past three years,

  • I've had the privilege of codesigning with my neighbors

  • a space in New Orleans known as Under the Bridge.

  • In 1966, Interstate 10 landed on the Tremé neighborhood,

  • displacing 326 black-owned businesses,

  • over 300 live oak trees,

  • effectively destroying the region's most successful black commercial district,

  • disrupting intergenerational wealth

  • and truly unraveling the fabric

  • of the nation's oldest African American neighborhood.

  • Today, after 45 years of community advocacy,

  • after 500 hours of community engagement

  • and 80 hours of community design,

  • we are so excited that in 2018,

  • after capturing the voices of thousands of residents

  • and the support of our local, federal and philanthropic partners,

  • as the city celebrates 300 years of transforming the world,

  • we will get to transform 19 blocks under the Interstate into community space,

  • into black-owned businesses,

  • in the form of the Claiborne Corridor Cultural Innovation District.

  • (Cheers)

  • (Applause)

  • We will be bridging time, we will bridge memory,

  • we will bridge disparity and injustice,

  • and we can't wait to see you all on the other side.

  • Thank you.

  • (Applause)

There are some chasms so deep and so wide,

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TED】Asali DeVan Ecclesiastes: "Chasms" ( "Chasms" | Asali DeVan Ecclesiastes) (【TED】Asali DeVan Ecclesiastes: "Chasms" ("Chasms" | Asali DeVan Ecclesiastes))

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    林宜悉 に公開 2021 年 01 月 14 日
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