Almudena Toral Documentary films that explore trauma and make space for healing TED Fellows

[SHAPE YOUR FUTURE]

It’s a warm morning and I’m surrounded
by six-year-old children in a classroom.

One by one, they cheerfully hug
one of their friends

who just came back home from a trip.

They comment on her new dress
and her new hairstyle.

But the girl does nothing.

She looks towards
the distant horizon, eyes fixed.

The kids start wondering
why she doesn’t speak.

The girl’s name is Adayanci,

and the trip she has just
returned from is not a vacation.

She left Guatemala with her dad
in May 2018 for the United States.

Several months later,
she’s back, but she has gone silent.

I’m filming this, feeling overwhelmed,

and finding it difficult to look
through the viewfinder of my camera.

Her post-traumatic
stress disorder is so visible.

I am in tears.

I am a journalist who documents
aftermaths for a living.

The impact, the invisible consequences.

What happens when the media
spotlight is gone?

That’s why I’ve spent hundreds of hours
listening to and watching people

deeply affected by trauma.

Survivors of trafficking,
child rape, gang slavery, forced labor

and immigration enforcement.

Different from the job
of psychiatrist and aid workers,

I’ve dedicated my life
to listening to them

to make their stories public,

in first person, in their own voice.

Despite all of the limitations
of words and photographs and films,

I believe better stories
about the effects of trauma

in people’s lives are essential.

They can show us the real consequences
of seemingly abstract government policies.

They can trigger understanding
across political divides

and awaken our universal sense of empathy.

Survivors like the now deceased Jennifer

taught me that brutal bondage
does not happen far away.

David taught me the horrors
refugees flee from

are scarier than any obstacle
in the quest for safety.

Adayanci brought home for me
that governments of developed nations

also harm using trauma as a weapon.

The word “trauma”
comes from ancient Greek.

It’s the word for “injury”.

It’s the psychological wound that stays

after something really terrible
has happened to us.

It affects our body, our mind,

our memory and our sense
of safety in the world.

War, violence, kidnapping, torture,

they are all causes of trauma.

But it does not only happen
far away, far from you.

In the United States, for example,

several large-scale community studies

have shown that exposure
to violence and terror,

like rape, domestic abuse or trafficking

are common and damaging in times of peace.

What I witnessed
in that classroom in Guatemala

was the aftermath
of the zero-tolerance policy.

It separated children from parents
at the US-Mexico border.

Adayanci was sent to a shelter
and two foster families

while her dad was deported.

In her despair,
she took a pair of scissors

and cut her own hair as a form of protest.

A psychologist diagnosed her
with acute stress,

warning it would become
post-traumatic stress disorder

the longer time passed.

The damage of this type of separation

at an early age,

just like other forms of abuse,

can be permanent
if the child doesn’t receive help.

In order to justify this kind of violence,

there is a will to make certain people
seem very different from us.

Evil, rapists, animals, criminals.

Stripping off their humanity

is a deliberate technique
used by governments

with plenty of examples in history books.

In this case, the so-called
evil, criminal and animal

was a shattered six-year-old girl.

We published Adayanci’s documentary.

The story won a World Press Photo award

thanks to which Adayanci
is receiving therapy in Guatemala.

She’s on her slow way back to recovery,
dancing and daydreaming.

But most others
have not gotten access to care.

Hundreds haven’t even been reunited
with their families.

The trauma these policies cost
can have generational effects.

Even in Adayanci’s fortunate case,

the family has no institutional support
and is in deep debt.

We humans heal from trauma
through feeling safe,

through storytelling

and through establishing connection
with others in our communities.

For this little girl reframing the story
she will tell herself

it’s part of her healing.

For us as a society,

reframing her story and pressuring
our governments to do better

is part of reclaiming
our dignity as equals.

Thank you.

[塑造你的未来]

这是一个温暖的早晨,我
在教室里被六岁的孩子包围。

一个个,他们兴高采烈地拥抱

了一位刚出差归来的朋友。

他们评论她的新衣服
和新发型。

但女孩什么都不做。


望向远方的地平线,目光定定。

孩子们开始怀疑
她为什么不说话。

女孩的名字叫阿达扬慈

,她刚
回来的旅行不是假期。 2018 年 5 月

,她与父亲一起离开危地马拉
前往美国。

几个月后,
她回来了,但她已经沉默了。

我正在拍摄这个,感觉不知所措,

并且发现很难
通过相机的取景器看。

她的创伤后
应激障碍是如此明显。

我泪流满面。

我是一名记者,以记录
后果为生。

影响,无形的后果。

当媒体的焦点消失时会发生什么

这就是为什么我花了数百个小时
倾听和观察

深受创伤影响的人们。

贩卖、
强奸儿童、帮派奴役、强迫劳动

和移民执法的幸存者。


精神科医生和救援人员的工作不同,

我一生都
致力于倾听

他们的声音,以第一人称、以他们自己的声音公开他们的故事。

尽管
文字、照片和电影有种种限制,但

我相信
关于创伤

对人们生活影响的更好故事是必不可少的。

它们可以向我们展示
看似抽象的政府政策的真正后果。

它们可以引发
跨越政治分歧的

理解,唤醒我们普遍的同理心。

像现在已故的詹妮弗这样的幸存者

告诉我,残酷的束缚
不会发生在很远的地方。

大卫告诉我,
难民逃离

的恐怖比
寻求安全的任何障碍都可怕。

Adayanci 让我
明白,发达国家的政府

也会使用创伤作为武器造成伤害。

“创伤”
一词来自古希腊语。

这是“伤害”这个词。

这是在我们发生

了真正可怕的事情之后留下的心理创伤

它影响我们的身体、我们的思想、

我们的记忆和我们
在这个世界上的安全感。

战争、暴力、绑架、酷刑,

都是造成创伤的原因。

但它不仅发生在
很远的地方,也离你很远。

例如,在美国,

几项大规模的社区研究

表明,在和平时期,
遭受暴力和恐怖袭击,

如强奸、家庭虐待或贩卖

是很常见的并且具有破坏性。


在危地马拉的那间教室里目睹

了零容忍政策的后果。

它在美墨边境将孩子与父母分开

当她的父亲被驱逐出境时,Adayanci 被送往收容所和两个寄养家庭。

绝望中,
她拿起

剪刀剪了自己的头发以示抗议。

一位心理学家诊断她
患有急性压力,并

警告说随着时间的推移,它会变成
创伤后应激

障碍。

与其他形式的虐待一样,

如果孩子得不到帮助,这种早年分离造成的损害可能是永久性的。

为了证明这种暴力是正当的,

有一种意愿让某些人
看起来与我们非常不同。

邪恶,强奸犯,动物,罪犯。

剥夺他们的人性


政府故意使用的技术

,在历史书中有很多例子。

在这种情况下,所谓的
邪恶,犯罪和动物

是一个破碎的六岁女孩。

我们出版了 Adayanci 的纪录片。 由于 Adayanci 在危地马拉接受治疗,

这个故事获得了世界新闻摄影奖

她正在慢慢恢复,
跳舞和做白日梦。

但大多数其他人
都无法获得护理。

数百人甚至没有
与家人团聚。

这些政策所造成的创伤
可能会产生代际效应。

即使在阿达扬奇幸运的情况下,

这个家庭也没有制度支持
,负债累累。

我们人类
通过感到安全、

讲故事

以及
与社区中的其他人建立联系来治愈创伤。

对于这个重新构建故事的小女孩,
她会告诉自己

这是她康复的一部分。

对于我们这个社会来说,重新

审视她的故事并迫使
我们的政府做得更好

是恢复
我们平等尊严的一部分。

谢谢你。