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My crew once pulled our van up to a really poor Miami neighborhood
我的團隊曾經把車停在一個非常貧窮的邁阿密社區，
and we found out that our couchsurfing host for the night was an 18-year-old girl, still living at home,
我們發現當晚招待我們的是一個依然與父母同住的18歲女孩，
and her family were all undocumented immigrants from Honduras.
他們一家人都是來自洪都拉斯的非法移民。
And that night, her whole family took the couches and she slept together with her mom so that we could take their beds.
那天晚上，他們一家人 都睡沙發，她和她媽媽擠在一起讓我們睡他們的床。
And I lay there thinking, these people have so little. Is this fair?
我就躺在那里想，這些人擁有的東西這么少。這樣公平嗎？
And in the morning, her mom taught us how to try to make tortillas and wanted to give me a Bible,
早晨，她媽媽教我們做玉米薄餅，還想給我一本《圣經》，
and she took me aside and she said to me in her broken English, "Your music has helped my daughter so much. Thank you for staying here. We're all so grateful."
她把我叫到一邊，用斷斷續續的英語對我說，“你的音樂對我女兒的幫助很大。謝謝你能住在這里。我們都很感激。”
And I thought, this is fair. This is this.
然后我想，這就公平了。是這種過程。
A couple of months later, I was in Manhattan, and I tweeted for a crash pad,
幾個月之后，我在曼哈頓發微博希望找一個過夜的地方，
and at midnight, I'm on the Lower East Side, and it occurs to me I've never actually done this alone.
午夜時分我在下東區按一戶人家的門鈴，然后我突然意識到我從來沒有一個人借宿過。
I've always been with my band or my crew. Is this what stupid people do?
我以前一直和我的樂隊或者團隊在一起。這是不是愚蠢的人做的事情？
