The press trampled on my privacy. Heres how I took back my story Kate Stone
Five years ago, I stood on the TED stage,
and I spoke about my work.
But one year later,
I had a terrible accident as I left a pub
one dark night with friends,
in Scotland.
As we followed the path through a forest,
I suddenly felt a massive thud,
then a second thud,
and I fell to the ground.
I had no idea what had hit me.
I later found out that when
the gate was opened on a garden,
a wild stag stampeded along the path
and ran straight into me.
Its antler penetrated my trachea
and my esophagus
and stopped at my spinal cord
and fractured my neck.
My best friend found me
lying on the floor,
gurgling for help
through a hole in my neck.
And we locked eyes,
and although I couldn’t speak,
she could understand what I was thinking.
And she told me, “Just breathe.”
And so, whilst focusing on my breath,
I had a strong sense of calmness,
but I was certain that I was going to die.
Somehow, I was content with this,
because I’ve always tried
to do my best in life whenever I can.
So I just continued to enjoy each breath
as one more moment –
one breath in and one breath out.
An ambulance came,
I was still fully conscious,
and I analyzed everything on the journey,
because I’m a scientist:
the sound of the tires on the road,
the frequency of the street lights
and eventually, the city street lights.
And I thought, “Maybe I will survive.”
And then I passed out.
I was stabilized at a local hospital
and then airlifted to Glasgow,
where they reconstructed my throat
and put me in a coma.
And while I was in the coma,
I had many alternate realities.
It was like a crazy mix
of “Westworld” and “Black Mirror.”
But that’s a whole other story.
My local TV station reported live
from outside the hospital
of a Cambridge scientist
who was in a coma,
and they didn’t know
if she would live or die or walk or talk.
And a week later,
I woke up from that coma.
And that was the first gift.
Then I had the gift to think,
the gift to move,
the gift to breathe
and the gift to eat and to drink.
That took three and a half months.
But there was one thing
that I never got back, though,
and that was my privacy.
The tabloid press
made the story about gender.
Look – I’m transgender,
it’s not that big a deal.
Like, my hair color or my shoe size
is way more interesting.
When I last spoke here –
(Applause)
When I last spoke here –
(Applause)
at TED, I didn’t talk about it,
because it’s boring.
And one Scottish newspaper
ran with the headline:
“Sex Swap Scientist Gored by Stag.”
And five others did similar things.
And for a minute, I was angry.
But then I found my calm place.
And what ran through my head was,
“They’ve crossed the wrong woman,
and they’re not going to know
what’s hit them.”
(Laughter)
I’m a kindness ninja.
I don’t really know what a ninja does,
but to me, they slip through the shadows,
crawl through the sewers,
skip across the rooftops,
and before you know it,
they’re behind you.
They don’t turn up
with an army or complain,
and they’re laser-focused on a plan.
So when I lay in my hospital bed,
I thought of my plan
to help reduce the chances
of them doing this to somebody else,
by using the system as is, and paying
the price of sacrificing my privacy.
What they told one million people,
I will tell 10 million people.
Because when you’re angry,
people defend themselves.
So I didn’t attack them,
and they were defenseless.
I wrote kind and calm letters
to these newspapers.
And The Sun newspaper,
the kind of “Fox News” of the UK,
thanked me for my “reasoned approach.”
I asked for no apology,
no retraction, no money,
just an acknowledgment
that they broke their own rules,
and what they did was just wrong.
And on this journey,
I started to learn who they are,
and they began to learn who I am.
And we actually became friends.
I’ve even had a few glasses of wine
with Philippa from The Sun since then.
And after three months, they all agreed,
and the statements
were published on a Friday,
and that was the end of that.
Or so they thought.
On the Saturday,
I went on the evening news,
with the headline “Six National
Newspapers Admit They Were Wrong.”
And the anchor said to me,
“But don’t you think
it’s our job as journalists
to sensationalize a story?”
And I said, “I was laying
on a forest floor, gored by a stag.
Is that not sensational enough?”
(Laughter)
And I was now writing the headlines.
My favorite one was,
“The stag trampled on my throat,
and the press trampled on my privacy.”
It was the most read piece
of BBC News online that day.
And I was kind of having fun.
And by the end of my week of media,
I started to use my newfound
voice and platform
to spread a message of love and kindness.
And when I had the minute
of anger and hatred
towards those press and journalists,
I had to identify my inner
bigotry towards them.
And I had to meet and speak
with these people
without judgment.
I had to let myself understand them,
and in return, they began
to understand me.
Well, six months later, they asked me
to join the committee
that regulates the press.
And a few times a year,
I sip tea and dip biscuits
with the likes of Daily Mail editor
Paul Dacre, who says to me,
“So, Kate, how have
your last few months been?”
And I respect them.
And I’m now one of three
members of the public
who has a seat at the table –
not because I’m different,
but because my voice counts,
just like anybody else.
And the irony is,
every now and again, I’m asked
to visit those printing presses
of this declining industry,
because some people think
that the technology I spoke about here,
last time at TED, my interactive print,
might actually help save them.
So beware of your inner bigot,
and make friends from your enemies.
Thank you.
(Applause)