評論
打印
To evade his criticism, I wanted to side with him. I was about to admit the injustice of Affirmative Action. But he went on, his voice hard with accusation. "It's all very simple this year. You're a Chicano. And I am a Jew. That's the only real difference between us."
為了逃避他的指責，我想支持他的看法。我要承認平權法案的不公平。但是他一直說著，他的聲音嚴厲而充滿譴責。“今年的情況很簡單。你是奇卡諾人（墨西哥裔美國人)，而我是個猶太人。這才是我們之間唯一的真正區別。”
His words stung me: there was nothing he was telling me that I didn't know. I had admitted everything already. But to hear someone else say these things, and in such an accusing tone, was suddenly hard to take. In a deceptively calm voice, I responded that he had simplified the whole issue. The phrases came like bubbles to the tip of my tongue: "new blood"; "the importance of cultural diversity"; "the goal of racial integration." These were all the arguments I had proposed several years ago—and had long since abandoned. Of course the offers were unjustifiable. I knew that. All I was saying amounted to a frantic self-defense. I tried to find an end to a sentence. My voice faltered to a stop.
他的話刺痛了我：他所告訴我的我都知道。我已經承認了這一切。但是聽到其他人說這些事情，并以這樣譴責的語調，突然讓我很難接受。我用裝出來的平靜的聲音回應他,說他簡化了整個問題。那些詞語就像泡沫般跳到我的舌尖上：“新生力量”，“文化多元化的重要性”，“種族融合的目標”。這些都是我幾年前提出的觀點——很早之前就被摒棄了。這些工作邀約當然不公平。我知道的。我所說的那些只不過是慌亂的自我防衛。我試著結束自己的話。我的聲音顫抖著停止了。
"Yeah, sure," he said. "I've heard all that before. Nothing you say really changes the fact that Affirmative Action is unfair. You see that, don't you? There isn't any way for me to compete with you. Once there were quotas to keep my parents out of certain schools; now there are quotas to get you in and the effect on me is the same as it was for them."
“對，當然，”他說，“那些我以前就聽過了。你所說的并未真正改變平權法案是不公平的這個事實。你知道的，不是嗎？我根本就沒辦法和你競爭。曾經因為限額使我的父母不能上某些學校；如今因為限額讓你可以去某些學校工作，這對我的影響與當時對他們的影響是相同的?！?/p>
