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谢谢，谢谢各位亲爱的朋友，对大家如此热烈的欢迎，我由衷的表示感谢，谢谢主席，对您的盛意邀请，我感到万分荣幸。同时，我特别地感谢犹太教律法家Shmuley，感谢您十一年来在牛津所做的工作。您和我一起努力建立“拯救儿童”，就如创作我们的直白书一样艰辛，但自始至终你都给予极大的支持和爱心。我还要感谢“拯救儿童”的理事Toba Friedman，她将于今晚返回母校，在此，她曾经作为一个Marshall学者工作过。当然还感谢我们“拯救儿童”组织的另一位中心成员Marilyn Piels。
能来到这样一个曾经汇集过特蕾莎修女、爱因斯坦、罗纳德·里根、罗伯特·肯尼迪和 Malcolm X等著名人物的地方演讲我感到受宠若惊。听说Kermit the Frog曾经来过这里，我也和他有同感就是，没有深厚阅历的人来这里可并不容易，但我相信他一定没有想到我竟会这么容易的做到。
今天我参观牛津大学，真的忍不住被这一伟大建筑的宏伟壮观所吸引，更不必说这世纪之城才俊云集的绚烂了。牛津不仅荟萃了最出色沉着的科学英才，还引导出了从J.R.R.托尔金到C.S.刘易斯等不少极富爱心的儿童文学家。今天，我被允许在教堂餐厅里参观了雕刻在彩色玻璃窗里的Lewis Carroll的爱丽斯梦游仙境。同时发现还有我的一位美国同胞，亲爱的苏斯先生也为此增色，启发着全世界的千万儿童的想象力。
今晚，我想先从我为何能有幸在这里讲话开始。
朋友们，正如其他一些来此的演讲者不善于月球漫步一样，我也并不具备他们所拥有的学术专业知识--而且，大家都知道，爱因斯坦在这方面尤其让人敬畏。但是我可以说，比起大多数人，在其他文化方面我拥有更丰富的经验。人类文明不仅仅包括图书馆中纸墨记载的，还包括那些记在人们内心的，刻进人们灵魂的，印入人类精神的。而且朋友们，在我相对短暂的生命里我经历了这么多，以至于我真的难以相信自己只有42岁。我经常对Shmuley说我的心理年龄肯定至少有80了，今晚我甚至象个80岁老人一样走路。那么就请大家听我说，因为今天我一定要对大家讲的或许会让大家一起来治愈人道，拯救地球！
多亏上帝的恩典，我很幸运地提前实现了自己一生的艺术和职业抱负。但这些成绩和我是谁，完全不同性质。事实上，在崇拜者面前活泼快乐地表演Rocking Robin和Ben的五岁小男孩并不意味笑容背后的他也同样快乐。
今晚，我不想以一个流行偶像的身份出现在大家面前，我更愿意作一代人的见证，一代不再了解作为孩子有什么意义的人。大家都有过童年，可我却缺少它，缺少那些宝贵的美妙的无忧无虑嬉戏玩耍的时光，而那些日子我们本该惬意地沉浸在父母亲人的疼爱中，为星期一重要的拼写考试下功夫做准备。熟悉The Jackson 5的朋友都知道我5岁时就开始表演，从那以后，就再也没有停止过跳舞唱歌。
虽然音乐表演的确是我最大的乐趣，可是小的时候我更想和其他的男孩子一样，搭树巢，打水仗，捉迷藏。但是命中注定我只能羡慕那些笑声和欢乐，我的职业生活不容停歇。
不过，作为耶和华见证人，每个礼拜天我都要去参加教会工作，那时，我就会设想自己的童年和别人的一样充满魔力。而自从我成名以后，我就不得不用肥大的衣服，假发，胡须和眼镜把自己伪装起来。我们在加州南部的郊区度过一整天，挨家挨户串门，或者在购物中心闲逛，发放我们的了望台杂志。我也喜欢到普通的家庭里去，看那些粗毛地毯，看那些小家伙们过家家，看所有的精彩普通闪亮的日常生活情景。我知道很多人会认为这没什么大不了，可对我却充满了诱惑。我常常想自己这种没有童年的感觉是独一无二的，我想能和我分享这种感觉的人更是少之又少。
前些时候，我有幸遇到了三四十 年代的一位童星秀兰·邓波儿，一见面我们什么都不说，只是一起哭，因为她能分担我的痛苦，这种痛苦只有我的一些密友，伊丽莎白·泰勒和麦考利·库尔金他们才能体会到。我说这些并不是要博得大家的同情，只是想让大家牢记一点——这种失去童年的痛苦不仅仅属于好莱坞的童星。
现在，这已经成为全世界的灾难。童年成了当代生活的牺牲品。我们使很多孩子不曾拥有欢乐，不曾得到相应的权利，不曾获得自由，而且还认为一个孩子就该是这样的。 现在，孩子们经常被鼓励长大得快一些，好象这个叫做童年的时期是一个累赘的阶段，大人们很不耐烦地想着法儿让它尽可能地快些结束。在这个问题上，我无疑是世界上最专业的人士之一了。我这一代正是废除亲子盟约必要性的见证。
心理学家在书中详述了不给予孩子绝对的爱而导致的毁灭性影响，这种无条件的爱对他们精神和人格的健康发展是极其必要的。因为被忽视，很多孩子就封闭自己。他们渐渐疏远自己的父母亲，祖父母以及其他的家庭成员，我们身边那种曾经团结过一代人的不灭的凝集力就这样散开了。这种违背常理的行为造就了一代新人，他们拥有所有外在的东西--财富，成功，时装和跑车，但他们的内心却是痛苦和空虚。胸口的空洞，心灵的荒芜，那些空白的地方曾经搏动着我们的心脏，曾经被爱占据。其实，不仅孩子们痛苦，父母亲也同样受煎熬。我们越是让孩子们早熟，我们就越来越远离了天真，而这种天真就算成年人也值得拥有。
爱，女士们先生们，爱是人类家庭最珍贵的遗产，是最贵重的馈赠，是最无价的传统，是我们应该代代相传的财富。以前，我们或许没有现在所享受的富有，房子里可能没有电，很多孩子挤在没有取暖设施的狭小房间里。但这些家庭里没有黑暗，也没有寒冷。他们点燃爱之光，贴紧的心让他们感到温暖。父母不为各种享受和权利的欲望分心，孩子才是他们的生活中最重要的。
我们都知道，我们两国在托马斯·杰弗逊提出的所谓“几个不可妥协的权利”上决裂。当我们美国人和英国人在争执各自要求的公平时，又有什么关于孩子们不可妥协的权利之争呢，对这些权利的逐步剥夺已经导致了世界上的很多孩子失去欢快乐趣和童年的安全感。因此我建议今晚我们就为每个家庭建立一部全体儿童权利条约，这些条例是：
不必付出就可享受的被爱的权利
不必乞求就可享有的被保护的权利
即使来到这个世界时一无所有，也要有被重视的权利
即使不引人注意也会有被倾听的权利
不须要与晚间新闻和复活节抗争，就能在睡觉前听一段故事的权利
不须要躲避子弹，可以在学校受教育的权利
哪怕你只有妈妈才会爱的脸蛋，也要有被人尊重的权利。
朋友们，人类所有知识的创立，人类意识的萌芽必然需要我们每一个人都成为被爱的对象。哪怕你不知道自己的头发是红色还是棕色，不知道自己是白人还是黑人，不知道自己信仰哪个宗教，你也应该知道自己是被爱着的。
大概十二年前，我正好在准备我的真棒巡演，一个小男孩和他的父母亲来加州看我。癌症正在威胁着他的生命，他告诉我他非常爱我和我的音乐。他的父母告诉我他生命将尽，说不上哪一天就会离开，我就对他说:“你瞧，三个月之后我就要到堪萨斯州你住的那个城市去开演唱会，我希望你来看我的演出，我还要送给你一件我在一部录影带里穿过的夹克。”他眼睛一亮，说:“你要把它送给我？” 我说:“当然，不过你必须答应我穿着它来看我的演出。”我只想尽力让他坚持住，就对他说:“我希望在我的演唱会上看见你穿着这件夹克戴着这只手套。”于是，我又送了一只镶着莱茵石的手套给他。一般我决不送手套给别人。但他就要去天堂了。不过，也许他离那儿实在太近，我到他的城市时，他已经走了，他们埋葬他时给他穿上那件夹克戴上那只手套。他只有10岁。上帝知道， 我知道，他曾经多么努力地支持过。但至少，在他离开时，他知道自己是被深爱着的，不仅被父母亲，甚至还有几乎是个陌生人的我也同样爱他。拥有了这些爱，他知道他不是孤独地来到这个世界，同样也不是孤独地离开。
如果你来到这个世界的时候知道自己是被爱的，离开的时候也知道这一点，那么这之间发生的一切，你都能应付。教授或许会贬低你，但你不会感到被贬低；老板可能打压你，但你不会被打倒；一个职场斗士也许能击败你，但你依然能获得胜利。他们怎么可能真正把你打倒呢？因为你知道自己是一个值得被爱的存在。其余的，不过是包装而已。
可如果你没有那种被爱的记忆，你就会注定在全世界寻找某种东西来填补自己。但无论你赚多少钱，无论你多出名，你仍然会觉得空虚。你真正寻找的是无条件的爱，是不带任何条件的接纳。而那正是你从出生起就被剥夺的东西。
朋友们，让我为你们描绘一幅画面。这是美国典型的一天：六名20岁以下的年轻人会自杀，十二名20岁以下的孩子会死于枪击——记住，这是一天，不是一年——399名孩子会因为吸毒被捕，1352名婴儿会由未成年妈妈生下。这一切，发生在人类历史上最富有、最发达的国家之一。
是的，我的国家有一种暴力流行病，是其他工业化国家无法比拟的。这就是美国年轻人表达他们伤痛和愤怒的方式。但别以为英国的年轻人就没有同样的痛苦和煎熬。这个国家的研究表明，每一个小时，就有三名英国青少年会伤害自己，通常是割伤或烧伤自己的身体，或者过量服药。这就是他们选择的应对方式——应对被忽视的痛苦和情感上的煎熬。
在英国，多达20%的家庭一年只会坐下来一起吃一次晚餐。一年一次！那给孩子读睡前故事这个悠久的传统呢？上世纪80年代的研究表明，那些听故事的孩子的读写能力要高得多，在学校的表现也远超同龄人。然而，如今只有不到33%的两到八岁的英国孩子能经常听到睡前故事。你可能觉得这没什么，但想想看，他们当中有75%的父母在自己小时候，是能听到睡前故事的。
显然，我们根本不需要问这些痛苦、愤怒和暴力行为从何而来。孩子们在怒吼，反抗被忽视；在颤抖，反抗冷漠；在呼喊，只为被看见。美国各种儿童保护机构的数据显示，在普通的一年里，有数百万儿童是忽视这种形式虐待的受害者。是的，忽视。在富裕的家庭，在特权家庭，在那些堆满各种电子设备的家庭。父母回家了，但他们的心没回来，因为他们还在想着办公室的事。那他们的孩子呢？孩子们只能靠那些零星的情感碎屑勉强度日。而没完没了的电视、电脑游戏和视频里，是找不到多少爱的。
这些冰冷、残酷的数字，让我感到灵魂被撕裂、精神被撼动。它们应该能告诉你们，为什么我会投入那么多时间和资源，去推动我们的“拯救儿童”倡议取得巨大成功。
我们的目标很简单：重建父母与孩子之间的纽带，重续其承诺，为所有终有一天会来到这个世界的美丽孩子照亮前行的路。
但既然这是我的第一次公开演讲，而你们又如此热情地接纳我，我想跟你们说更多。我们每个人都有自己的故事，从这个意义上说，统计数据也可以变得很个人。
有人说，为人父母就像跳舞。你迈出一步，你的孩子跟上一步。我发现，让父母重新把心放在孩子身上，只是故事的一半。另一半是让孩子准备好重新接纳他们的父母。
我小时候，我们养过一条疯疯癫癫的杂种狗，叫“黑妞”，是狼和寻回犬的混种。它不仅看不了家，还胆小得要命，每次卡车驶过，或者暴风雨席卷印第安纳州，它没当场晕过去也算是奇迹了。我和妹妹珍妮特给了那条狗很多爱，但我们始终没能帮它找回被前主人偷走的那种信任感。我们知道他以前常打它，不知道用的什么，但不管是什么，都足以把那条狗的精气神彻底打没了。
今天很多孩子就是受伤的小狗，他们自己戒断了对爱的需求。他们根本不在乎父母。放任自流的话，他们珍视自己的独立。他们继续往前走，把父母抛在了身后。
还有更糟的情况，有些孩子对父母怀有敌意和怨恨，以至于父母任何示好的举动都会被他们狠狠怼回去。
今晚，我不希望我们任何人犯这样的错误。这就是为什么我要呼吁全世界的孩子——从今晚在座的各位开始——如果我们觉得自己被忽视了，就原谅我们的父母。原谅他们，并教他们如何重新去爱。
你们听说我的童年并不像田园诗那样美好，大概不会感到惊讶。我和我父亲之间关系的紧张和压力，是众所周知的。我父亲是个很严厉的人。从我们很小的时候起，他就狠狠地逼着我和我的兄弟们，要我们成为最好的表演者。
他很难表达情感。他从没真正对我说过他爱我。他也从不夸我。如果我演出一场精彩的表演，他会说“演得不错”；如果我演得一般，他会说“演得很烂”。
他似乎一心只想让我们在商业上取得成功。在这方面，他相当擅长。我父亲是个管理天才，我和兄弟们能在职业上取得成功，很大程度上要归功于他逼迫我们的那种强硬方式。他把我训练成一个艺人，在他的指导下，我一个舞步都不能出错。
但我真正想要的是一个爸爸。我想要的是一个对我展现父爱的父亲。而我父亲从来没有这样做过。他从没有直视过我的眼睛说“我爱你”，从没有和我玩过游戏，从没有让我骑在他肩上，从没有拿枕头或水球扔过我。
但我记得有一次，大概我四岁的时候，有个小嘉年华活动，他把我抱起来放在一匹小马身上。这是一个很小的举动，大概五分钟之后他就忘了。但因为那一刻，我心里有了一个属于他的特殊位置。因为孩子就是这样，那些微不足道的小事对他们来说意义重大。对我来说，那一个瞬间就是一切。虽然我只经历过那一次，但它让我对他、对这个世界，都感觉特别好。
但现在我自己也当了父亲。有一天我在想我自己的孩子，普林斯和帕丽斯，我希望他们长大后如何看待我。当然，我希望他们记得，无论我去哪儿，我总是想带着他们；我总是尽力把他们放在第一位。但他们的生活也有挑战。因为我的孩子总被狗仔队跟踪，他们不能总是跟我一起去公园或电影院。
那么，如果他们长大后怨恨我呢？如果他们觉得是我选择的生活方式影响了他们的青春呢？他们可能会问：为什么我们不能像其他孩子一样拥有一个普通的童年？而那一刻，我祈祷我的孩子们能对我抱有宽容之心。他们会对自己说：“我们的爸爸已经尽力了，考虑到他所面对的独特处境。他或许不完美，但他是个温暖而正直的人，他试图给我们全世界所有的爱。”
我希望他们能永远关注那些积极的事情，关注我为他们心甘情愿做出的牺牲，而不是去批评他们不得不放弃的东西，或者我在抚养他们过程中犯下的、而且肯定会继续犯下的错误。因为我们都曾是孩子，我们也都知道，无论计 划多么周密、努力多么巨大，错误总是会发生。这就是人之常情。
当我想到这些，想到我希望我的孩子们不要苛责我，能原谅我的缺点时，我不得不想到自己的父亲。尽管我之前否认过，但我不得不承认，他一定是爱我的。他确实爱我，我知道。
有些小事能证明这一点。我小时候特别爱吃甜食——我们都这样。我最喜欢的食物是上过釉的甜甜圈，我父亲知道。所以每隔几周，我早上走下楼，就会在厨房台面上看到一袋甜甜圈——没有纸条，没有解释，就是甜甜圈。就像圣诞老人一样。
有时候我会想晚上熬夜不睡，好亲眼看到他放下它们。但就像对圣诞老人一样，我不想破坏这种魔力，因为我怕他以后再也不这样做了。我父亲只能在晚上偷偷地放下它们，这样才不会有人看到他放下防备的样子。他害怕流露情感，他不理解情感，也不知道该如何处理。但他确实懂得甜甜圈。
而当我允许情绪的闸门打开时，其他记忆也涌上心头，其他微小的、不完美的举动，表明他确实尽力了。所以今晚，我不想再专注于我父亲没有做到什么，我想专注于他所做的一切，以及他自身的挑战。我不想再评判他了。
我开始反思，我父亲在南方长大，家境非常贫寒。他成长于大萧条时期，他自己的父亲为了养活孩子们苦苦挣扎，对家人也没什么温情，用铁腕手段把我父亲和他的兄弟姐妹们养大。谁能想象，一个贫穷的黑人在南方长大是什么滋味？被剥夺尊严，失去希望，在一个视他为低人一等的世界里努力成为一个男人？我是第一个在MTV上播放的黑人艺术家，我记得即便在当时，这也是件了不起的大事。那还是在80年代！
我父亲搬到了印第安纳州，自己也有了一大家子人。他在钢铁厂长时间工作，那种工作会毁掉人的肺，磨灭人的精神，所做的一切都是为了养家糊口。他很难表达感情，这奇怪吗？他封闭自己的心，筑起情感的壁垒，这难以理解吗？最重要的是，他如此用力地逼着儿子们去争取事业上的成功，好让他们免于他所熟知的、那种充满屈辱和贫穷的生活，这难道还难以理解吗？
我开始看到，甚至我父亲的严厉也是一种爱。当然，是一种不完美的爱，但终究是爱。他逼我，是因为他爱我。因为他希望没有人敢看不起他的孩子。
而现在，随着时间的推移，我感受到的不是苦涩，而是祝福。在愤怒的地方，我找到了原谅。在报复的地方，我找到了和解。我最初的怒火，也慢慢地让位给了宽恕。
大约10年前，我创立了一个慈善机构，叫“治愈世界”。这个名字源于我内心的感受。后来什穆利指出，我那时不知道，这两个词构成了《旧约》预言的基石。我真的相信我们能治愈这个充斥着战争和种族灭绝的世界吗？即使在今天？我真的相信我们能治愈我们的孩子吗？那些能带着枪和仇恨走进校园、像在哥伦拜恩那样射杀同学的孩子？或者那些能把一个毫无防御能力的幼儿活活打死的孩子，就像杰米·巴尔杰的悲剧故事那样？我当然相信，否则今晚我不会站在这里。
但这一切都始于宽恕。因为要治愈世界，我们首先要治愈自己。而要治愈孩子，我们首先要治愈我们每个人内心深处的那个小孩。作为一个成年人，作为一个父母，我意识到，除非我安抚好自己童年的幽灵，否则我无法成为一个完整的人，也无法成为一个能给予无条件的爱的父母。
这就是我今晚希望大家去做的事。践行“十诫”中的第五诫。不要通过评判你们的父母来荣耀他们。给他们一些理解。
这就是为什么我想原谅我的父亲，停止评判他。我想原谅我的父亲，因为我需要一个父亲，而这是我唯一的父亲。我想让过去的重担从我肩上卸下，我想自由地步入一段与父亲全新的关系中，在未来的日子里，不再受过去的幽灵阻碍。
在一个充满仇恨的世界里，我们仍然必须敢于希望。在一个充满愤怒的世界里，我们仍然必须敢于安慰。在一个充满绝望的世界里，我们仍然必须敢于梦想。在一个充满不信任的世界里，我们仍然必须敢于相信。
今晚，所有那些对父母感到失望的人，我请你们放下你们的失望。所有那些觉得被父母欺骗了的人，我请你们不要再继续欺骗自己。所有那些想把父母推开的人，我请你们向他们伸出手。我请求你们，也请求我自己，把无条件的爱这份礼物送给我们的父母，好让他们也能从我们——他们的孩子——这里学会如何去爱。这样一来，爱终将回归这个荒凉而孤独的世界。
什穆利曾经跟我提到过一个古老的圣经预言，预言说一个新的世界、一个新的时代将会到来，那时“父亲的心将借着儿女的心回转”。朋友们，我们就是那个世界，我们就是那些孩子。
圣雄甘地说过：“弱者从不原谅。宽恕是强者的品质。”今晚，请做个强者。不仅如此，还要奋起迎接最伟大的挑战——恢复那已被破坏的盟约。无论童年经历在我们生命中留下了多么令人软弱的影响，我们都必须克服它。用杰西·杰克逊的话说，就是彼此宽恕，彼此救赎，然后继续前行。
这个宽恕的呼吁，或许不会在世界各地引发像奥普拉节目那样的高潮，不会有成千上万的孩子与父母和解，但它至少会是一个开始，而我们所有人都会因此快乐得多。
所以，女士们先生们，今晚，我带着信念、喜悦和激动，结束我的演讲。
从今往后，愿一首新歌被听见。
愿那新歌是孩子的欢笑声。
愿那新歌是孩子的玩耍声。
愿那新歌是孩子的歌唱声。
愿那新歌是父母的倾听声。
让我们一起，奏响一曲心灵的交响乐，惊叹于我们孩子的奇迹，沐浴在爱的美丽之中。
让我们治愈这个世界，消除它的痛苦。
愿我们共同谱写美妙的乐章。
上帝保佑你们，我爱你们。
——迈克尔·杰克逊
Thank you, thank you dear friends, from the bottom of my heart, for such a loving and spirited welcome, and thank you, Mr President, for your kind invitation to me which I am so honoured to accept. I also want to express a special thanks to you Shmuley, who for 11 years served as Rabbi here at Oxford. You and I have been working so hard to form Heal the Kids, as well as writing our book about childlike qualities, and in all of our efforts you have been such a supportive and loving friend. And I would also like to thank Toba Friedman, our director of operations at Heal the Kids, who is returning tonight to the alma mater where she served as a Marshall scholar, as well as Marilyn Piels, another central member of our Heal the Kids team.
I am humbled to be lecturing in a place that has previously been filled by such notable figures as Mother Theresa, Albert Einstein, Ronald Reagan, Robert Kennedy and Malcolm X. I've even heard that Kermit the Frog has made an appearance here, and I've always felt a kinship with Kermit's message that it's not easy being green. I'm sure he didn't find it any easier being up here than I do!
As I looked around Oxford today, I couldn't help but be aware of the majesty and grandeur of this great institution, not to mention the brilliance of the great and gifted minds that have roamed these streets for centuries. The walls of Oxford have not only housed the greatest philosophical and scientific geniuses - they have also ushered forth some of the most cherished creators of children's literature, from J.R.R. Tolkien to CS Lewis. Today I was allowed to hobble into the dining hall in Christ Church to see Lewis Carroll's Alice in Wonderland immortalised in the stained glass windows. And even one of my own fellow Americans, the beloved Dr Seuss graced these halls and then went on to leave his mark on the imaginations of millions of children throughout the world.
I suppose I should start by listing my qualifications to speak before you this evening. Friends, I do not claim to have the academic expertise of other speakers who have addressed this hall, just as they could lay little claim at being adept at the moonwalk - and you know, Einstein in particular was really TERRIBLE at that.
But I do have a claim to having experienced more places and cultures than most people will ever see. Human knowledge consists not only of libraries of parchment and ink - it is also comprised of the volumes of knowledge that are written on the human heart, chiselled on the human soul, and engraved on the human psyche. And friends, I have encountered so much in this relatively short life of mine that I still cannot believe I am only 42. I often tell Shmuley that in soul years I'm sure that I'm at least 80 - and tonight I even walk like I'm 80! So please harken to my message, because what I have to tell you tonight can bring healing to humanity and healing to our planet.
Through the grace of God, I have been fortunate to have achieved many of my artistic and professional aspirations realised early in my lifetime. But these, friends are accomplishments, and accomplishments alone are not synonymous with who I am. Indeed, the cheery five-year-old who belted out Rockin' Robin and Ben to adoring crowds was not indicative of the boy behind the smile.
Tonight, I come before you less as an icon of pop (whatever that means anyway), and more as an icon of a generation, a generation that no longer knows what it means to be children.
All of us are products of our childhood. But I am the product of a lack of a childhood, an absence of that precious and wondrous age when we frolic playfully without a care in the world, basking in the adoration of parents and relatives, where our biggest concern is studying for that big spelling test come Monday morning.
Those of you who are familiar with the Jackson Five know that I began performing at the tender age of five and that ever since then, I haven't stopped dancing or singing. But while performing and making music undoubtedly remain as some of my greatest joys, when I was young I wanted more than anything else to be a typical little boy. I wanted to build tree houses, have water balloon fights, and play hide and seek with my friends. But fate had it otherwise and all I could do was envy the laughter and playtime that seemed to be going on all around me.
There was no respite from my professional life. But on Sundays I would go Pioneering, the term used for the missionary work that Jehovah's Witnesses do. And it was then that I was able to see the magic of other people's childhood.
Since I was already a celebrity, I would have to don a disguise of fat suit, wig, beard and glasses and we would spend the day in the suburbs of Southern California, going door-to-door or making the rounds of shopping malls, distributing our Watchtower magazine. I loved to set foot in all those regular suburban houses and catch sight of the shag rugs and La-Z-Boy armchairs with kids playing Monopoly and grandmas baby-sitting and all those wonderful, ordinary and starry scenes of everyday life. Many, I know, would argue that these things seem like no big deal. But to me they were mesmerising.
I used to think that I was unique in feeling that I was without a childhood. I believed that indeed there were only a handful with whom I could share those feelings. When I recently met with Shirley Temple Black, the great child star of the 1930s and 40s, we said nothing to each other at first, we simply cried together, for she could share a pain with me that only others like my close friends Elizabeth Taylor and McCauley Culkin know.
I do not tell you this to gain your sympathy but to impress upon you my first important point : It is not just Hollywood child stars that have suffered from a non-existent childhood. Today, it's a universal calamity, a global catastrophe. Childhood has become the great casualty of modern-day living. All around us we are producing scores of kids who have not had the joy, who have not been accorded the right, who have not been allowed the freedom, or knowing what it's like to be a kid.
Today children are constantly encouraged to grow up faster, as if this period known as childhood is a burdensome stage, to be endured and ushered through, as swiftly as possible. And on that subject, I am certainly one of the world's greatest experts.
Ours is a generation that has witnessed the abrogation of the parent-child covenant. Psychologists are publishing libraries of books detailing the destructive effects of denying one's children the unconditional love that is so necessary to the healthy development of their minds and character. And because of all the neglect, too many of our kids have, essentially, to raise themselves. They are growing more distant from their parents, grandparents and other family members, as all around us the indestructible bond that once glued together the generations, unravels.
This violation has bred a new generation, Generation O let us call it, that has now picked up the torch from Generation X. The O stands for a generation that has everything on the outside - wealth, success, fancy clothing and fancy cars, but an aching emptiness on the inside. That cavity in our chests, that barrenness at our core, that void in our centre is the place where the heart once beat and which love once occupied.
And it's not just the kids who are suffering. It's the parents as well. For the more we cultivate little-adults in kids'-bodies, the more removed we ourselves become from our own child-like qualities, and there is so much about being a child that is worth retaining in adult life.
Love, ladies and gentlemen, is the human family's most precious legacy, its richest bequest, its golden inheritance. And it is a treasure that is handed down from one generation to another. Previous ages may not have had the wealth we enjoy. Their houses may have lacked electricity, and they squeezed their many kids into small homes without central heating. But those homes had no darkness, nor were they cold. They were lit bright with the glow of love and they were warmed snugly by the very heat of the human heart. Parents, undistracted by the lust for luxury and status, accorded their children primacy in their lives.
As you all know, our two countries broke from each other over what Thomas Jefferson referred to as "certain inalienable rights". And while we Americans and British might dispute the justice of his claims, what has never been in dispute is that children have certain inalienable rights, and the gradual erosion of those rights has led to scores of children worldwide being denied the joys and security of childhood.
I would therefore like to propose tonight that we install in every home a Children's Universal Bill of Rights, the tenets of which are:
1. The right to be loved without having to earn it
2. The right to be protected, without having to deserve it
3. The right to feel valuable, even if you came into the world with nothing
4. The right to be listened to without having to be interesting
5. The right to be read a bedtime story, without having to compete with the evening news
6. The right to an education without having to dodge bullets at schools
7. The right to be thought of as adorable - (even if you have a face that only a mother could love).
Friends, the foundation of all human knowledge, the beginning of human consciousness, must be that each and every one of us is an object of love. Before you know if you have red hair or brown, before you know if you are black or white, before you know of what religion you are a part, you have to know that you are loved.
About twelve years ago, when I was just about to start my Bad tour, a little boy came with his parents to visit me at home in California. He was dying of cancer and he told me how much he loved my music and me. His parents told me that he wasn't going to live, that any day he could just go, and I said to him: "Look, I am going to be coming to your town in Kansas to open my tour in three months. I want you to come to the show. I am going to give you this jacket that I wore in one of my videos." His eyes lit up and he said: "You are gonna GIVE it to me?" I said "Yeah, but you have to promise that you will wear it to the show." I was trying to make him hold on. I said: "When you come to the show I want to see you in this jacket and in this glove" and I gave him one of my rhinestone gloves - and I never usually give the rhinestone gloves away. And he was just in heaven.
But maybe he was too close to heaven, because when I came to his town, he had already died, and they had buried him in the glove and jacket. He was just 10 years old. God knows, I know, that he tried his best to hold on. But at least when he died, he knew that he was loved, not only by his parents, but even by me, a near stranger, I also loved him. And with all of that love he knew that he didn't come into this world alone, and he certainly didn't leave it alone.
If you enter this world knowing you are loved and you leave this world knowing the same, then everything that happens in between can he dealt with. A professor may degrade you, but you will not feel degraded, a boss may crush you, but you will not be crushed, a corporate gladiator might vanquish you, but you will still triumph. How could any of them truly prevail in pulling you down? For you know that you are an object worthy of love. The rest is just packaging.
But if you don't have that memory of being loved, you are condemned to search the world for something to fill you up. But no matter how much money you make or how famous you become, you will still fell empty. What you are really searching for is unconditional love, unqualified acceptance. And that was the one thing that was denied to you at birth.
Friends, let me paint a picture for you. Here is a typical day in America - six youths under the age of 20 will commit suicide, 12 children under the age of 20 will die from firearms - remember this is a DAY, not a year - 399 kids will be arrested for drug abuse, 1,352 babies will be born to teen mothers. This is happening in one of the richest, most developed countries in the history of the world.
Yes, in my country there is an epidemic of violence that parallels no other industrialised nation. These are the ways young people in America express their hurt and their anger. But don't think that there is not the same pain and anguish among their counterparts in the United Kingdom. Studies in this country show that every single hour, three teenagers in the UK inflict harm upon themselves, often by cutting or burning their bodies or taking an overdose. This is how they have chosen to cope with the pain of neglect and emotional agony.
In Britain, as many as 20% of families will only sit down and have dinner together once a year. Once a year! And what about the time-honoured tradition of reading your kid a bedtime story? Research from the 1980s showed that children who are read to, had far greater literacy and significantly outperformed their peers at school. And yet, less than 33% of British children ages two to eight have a regular bedtime story read to them. You may not think much of that until you take into account that 75% of their parents DID have that bedtime story when they were that age.
Clearly, we do not have to ask ourselves where all of this pain, anger and violent behaviour comes from. It is self-evident that children are thundering against the neglect, quaking against the indifference and crying out just to be noticed. The various child protection agencies in the US say that millions of children are victims of maltreatment in the form of neglect, in the average year. Yes, neglect. In rich homes, privileged homes, wired to the hilt with every electronic gadget. Homes where parents come home, but they're not really home, because their heads are still at the office. And their kids? Well, their kids just make do with whatever emotional crumbs they get. And you don't get much from endless TV, computer games and videos.
These hard, cold numbers which for me, wrench the soul and shake the spirit, should indicate to you why I have devoted so much of my time and resources into making our new Heal the Kids initiative a colossal success.
Our goal is simple - to recreate the parent/child bond, renew its promise and light the way forward for all the beautiful children who are destined one day to walk this earth.
But since this is my first public lecture, and you have so warmly welcomed me into your hearts, I feel that I want to tell you more. We each have our own story, and in that sense statistics can become personal.
They say that parenting is like dancing. You take one step, your child takes another. I have discovered that getting parents to re-dedicate themselves to their children is only half the story. The other half is preparing the children to re-accept their parents.
When I was very young I remember that we had this crazy mutt of a dog named "Black Girl," a mix of wolf and retriever. Not only wasn't she much of a guard dog, she was such a scared and nervous thing that it is a wonder she did not pass out every time a truck rumbled by, or a thunderstorm swept through Indiana. My sister Janet and I gave that dog so much love, but we never really won back the sense of trust that had been stolen from her by her previous owner. We knew he used to beat her. We didn't know with what. But whatever it was, it was enough to suck the spirit right out of that dog.
A lot of kids today are hurt puppies who have weaned themselves off the need for love. They couldn't care less about their parents. Left to their own devices, they cherish their independence. They have moved on and have left their parents behind.
Then there are the far worse cases of children who harbour animosity and resentment toward their parents, so that any overture that their parents might undertake would be thrown forcefully back in their face.
Tonight, I don't want any of us to make this mistake. That's why I'm calling upon all the world's children - beginning with all of us here tonight - to forgive our parents, if we felt neglected. Forgive them and teach them how to love again.
You probably weren't surprised to hear that I did not have an idyllic childhood. The strain and tension that exists in my relationship with my own father is well documented. My father is a tough man and he pushed my brothers and me hard, from the earliest age, to be the best performers we could be.
He had great difficulty showing affection. He never really told me he loved me. And he never really complimented me either. If I did a great show, he would tell me it was a good show. And if I did an OK show, he told me it was a lousy show.
He seemed intent, above all else, on making us a commercial success. And at that he was more than adept. My father was a managerial genius and my brothers and I owe our professional success, in no small measure, to the forceful way that he pushed us. He trained me as a showman and under his guidance I couldn't miss a step.
But what I really wanted was a Dad. I wanted a father who showed me love. And my father never did that. He never said I love you while looking me straight in the eye, he never played a game with me. He never gave me a piggyback ride, he never threw a pillow at me, or a water balloon.
But I remember once when I was about four years old, there was a little carnival and he picked me up and put me on a pony. It was a tiny gesture, probably something he forgot five minutes later. But because of that moment I have this special place in my heart for him. Because that's how kids are, the little things mean so much to them and for me, that one moment meant everything. I only experienced it that one time, but it made me feel really good, about him and the world.
But now I am a father myself, and one day I was thinking about my own children, Prince and Paris and how I wanted them to think of me when they grow up. To be sure, I would like them to remember how I always wanted them with me wherever I went, how I always tried to put them before everything else. But there are also challenges in their lives. Because my kids are stalked by paparazzi, they can't always go to a park or a movie with me.
So what if they grow older and resent me, and how my choices impacted their youth? Why weren't we given an average childhood like all the other kids, they might ask? And at that moment I pray that my children will give me the benefit of the doubt. That they will say to themselves: "Our daddy did the best he could, given the unique circumstances that he faced. He may not have been perfect, but he was a warm and decent man, who tried to give us all the love in the world."
I hope that they will always focus on the positive things, on the sacrifices I willingly made for them, and not criticise the things they had to give up, or the errors I've made, and will certainly continue to make, in raising them. For we have all been someone's child, and we know that despite the very best of plans and efforts, mistakes will always occur. That's just being human.
And when I think about this, of how I hope that my children will not judge me unkindly, and will forgive my shortcomings, I am forced to think of my own father and despite my earlier denials, I am forced to admit that me must have loved me. He did love me, and I know that.
There were little things that showed it. When I was a kid I had a real sweet tooth - we all did. My favourite food was glazed doughnuts and my father knew that. So every few weeks I would come downstairs in the morning and there on the kitchen counter was a bag of glazed doughnuts - no note, no explanation - just the doughnuts. It was like Santa Claus.
Sometimes I would think about staying up late at night, so I could see him leave them there, but just like with Santa Claus, I didn't want to ruin the magic for fear that he would never do it again. My father had to leave them secretly at night, so as no one might catch him with his guard down. He was scared of human emotion, he didn't understand it or know how to deal with it. But he did know doughnuts.
And when I allow the floodgates to open up, there are other memories that come rushing back, memories of other tiny gestures, however imperfect, that showed that he did what he could. So tonight, rather than focusing on what my father didn't do, I want to focus on all the things he did do and on his own personal challenges. I want to stop judging him.
I have started reflecting on the fact that my father grew up in the South, in a very poor family. He came of age during the Depression and his own father, who struggled to feed his children, showed little affection towards his family and raised my father and his siblings with an iron fist. Who could have imagined what it was like to grow up a poor black man in the South, robbed of dignity, bereft of hope, struggling to become a man in a world that saw my father as subordinate. I was the first black artist to be played on MTV and I remember how big a deal it was even then. And that was in the 80s!
My father moved to Indiana and had a large family of his own, working long hours in the steel mills, work that kills the lungs and humbles the spirit, all to support his family. Is it any wonder that he found it difficult to expose his feelings? Is it any mystery that he hardened his heart, that he raised the emotional ramparts? And most of all, is it any wonder why he pushed his sons so hard to succeed as performers, so that they could be saved from what he knew to be a life of indignity and poverty?
I have begun to see that even my father's harshness was a kind of love, an imperfect love, to be sure, but love nonetheless. He pushed me because he loved me. Because he wanted no man ever to look down at his offspring.
And now with time, rather than bitterness, I feel blessing. In the place of anger, I have found absolution. And in the place of revenge I have found reconciliation. And my initial fury has slowly given way to forgiveness.
Almost a decade ago, I founded a charity called Heal the World. The title was something I felt inside me. Little did I know, as Shmuley later pointed out, that those two words form the cornerstone of Old Testament prophecy. Do I really believe that we can heal this world, that is riddled with war and genocide, even today? And do I really think that we can heal our children, the same children who can enter their schools with guns and hatred and shoot down their classmates, like they did at Columbine? Or children who can beat a defenceless toddler to death, like the tragic story of Jamie Bulger? Of course I do, or I wouldn't be here tonight.
But it all begins with forgiveness, because to heal the world, we first have to heal ourselves. And to heal the kids, we first have to heal the child within, each and every one of us. As an adult, and as a parent, I realise that I cannot be a whole human being, nor a parent capable of unconditional love, until I put to rest the ghosts of my own childhood.
And that's what I'm asking all of us to do tonight. Live up to the fifth of the Ten Commandments. Honour your parents by not judging them. Give them the benefit of the doubt.
That is why I want to forgive my father and to stop judging him. I want to forgive my father, because I want a father, and this is the only one that I've got. I want the weight of my past lifted from my shoulders and I want to be free to step into a new relationship with my father, for the rest of my life, unhindered by the goblins of the past.
In a world filled with hate, we must still dare to hope. In a world filled with anger, we must still dare to comfort. In a world filled with despair, we must still dare to dream. And in a world filled with distrust, we must still dare to believe.
To all of you tonight who feel let down by your parents, I ask you to let down your disappointment. To all of you tonight who feel cheated by your fathers or mothers, I ask you not to cheat yourself further. And to all of you who wish to push your parents away, I ask you to extend you hand to them instead. I am asking you, I am asking myself, to give our parents the gift of unconditional love, so that they too may learn how to love from us, their children. So that love will finally be restored to a desolate and lonely world.
Shmuley once mentioned to me an ancient Biblical prophecy which says that a new world and a new time would come, when "the hearts of the parents would be restored through the hearts of their children". My friends, we are that world, we are those children.
Mahatma Gandhi said: "The weak can never forgive. Forgiveness is the attribute of the strong." Tonight, be strong. Beyond being strong, rise to the greatest challenge of all - to restore that broken covenant. We must all overcome whatever crippling effects our childhoods may have had on our lives and in the words of Jesse Jackson, forgive each other, redeem each other and move on.
This call for forgiveness may not result in Oprah moments the world over, with thousands of children making up with their parents, but it will at least be a start, and we'll all be so much happier as a result.
And so ladies and gentlemen, I conclude my remarks tonight with faith, joy and excitement.
From this day forward, may a new song be heard.
Let that new song be the sound of children laughing.
Let that new song be the sound of children playing.
Let that new song be the sound of children singing.
And let that new song be the sound of parents listening.
Together, let us create a symphony of hearts, marvelling at the miracle of our children and basking in the beauty of love.
Let us heal the world and blight its pain.
And may we all make beautiful music together.
God bless you, and I love you. ~ Michael Jackson
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狗仔卡
发表于 2009-8-15 21:40:39
变色卡
显身卡
发表于 2009-8-16 14:12:23
