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My crew once pulled our van up to a really poor Miami neighborhood
我的团队曾经把车停在一个非常贫穷的迈阿密社区，
and we found out that our couchsurfing host for the night was an 18-year-old girl, still living at home,
我们发现当晚招待我们的是一个依然与父母同住的18岁女孩，
and her family were all undocumented immigrants from Honduras.
他们一家人都是来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，他们一家人 都睡沙发，她和她妈妈挤在一起让我们睡他们的床。
And I lay there thinking, these people have so little. Is this fair?
我就躺在那里想，这些人拥有的东西这么少。这样公平吗？
And in the morning, her mom taught us how to try to make tortillas and wanted to give me a Bible,
早晨，她妈妈教我们做玉米薄饼，还想给我一本《圣经》，
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."
她把我叫到一边，用断断续续的英语对我说，“你的音乐对我女儿的帮助很大。谢谢你能住在这里。我们都很感激。”
And I thought, this is fair. This is this.
然后我想，这就公平了。是这种过程。
A couple of months later, I was in Manhattan, and I tweeted for a crash pad,
几个月之后，我在曼哈顿发微博希望找一个过夜的地方，
and at midnight, I'm on the Lower East Side, and it occurs to me I've never actually done this alone.
午夜时分我在下东区按一户人家的门铃，然后我突然意识到我从来没有一个人借宿过。
I've always been with my band or my crew. Is this what stupid people do?
我以前一直和我的乐队或者团队在一起。这是不是愚蠢的人做的事情？
