Black Man's Guide to Happiness

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A black man discovers the ultimate formula.
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Samuelx
Samuelx
2,121 Followers

The life of a black man living in the United States of America is never easy. Trust me, I know. It's one of a few things I can truly speak of with experience. However, it can be done. No need for bitterness when faith, courage and intelligence can get us through most of life's tribulations. Let no one tell you otherwise. My name is Jackson Saint Michel and this is my story.

Many people make assumptions when they meet me. I stand six feet six inches tall, broad-shouldered and muscular, with dark brown skin and an overall clean-shaven look. I don't like hair on myself. Not on my head or face. I shave completely every few days. It's just how I like to see myself. It's cool, though. Many black men look good while bald and I'm one of them. Upon meeting me, folks have mistaken me for everything from an NBA player to a professional football player. The truth is that I suck at sports. I've been into bodybuilding ever since I got out of high school but that's about it. I missed the sports gene. My siblings are into football and soccer, respectively. I'm not. I'm just a bookworm who loves the gym.

In May 2008, I graduated from Boston College with a bachelors of science degree in Criminal Justice. I had a full academic scholarship while I attended. Graduating with honors made me and my family proud. It was a major accomplishment from me. The son of Haitian immigrants who moved to America in the early 1990s. My father Philemon Saint Michel works as a corrections officer for the city of Boston and my mother, Annabelle Saint Michel teaches social sciences at Boston Latin Academy, an elite prep school located in Boston.

We do alright for ourselves. Our house is located in Hyde Park. It's where I grew up. In a neighborhood filled with Haitian immigrants and their families. I was born in Haiti but embraced both Haitian and American cultures. It comes with being the son of two worlds. My father always said a man who forgets where he comes from doesn't know where he's going. I think he's right. I remember the hardships my parents endured in the Haitian Fatherland before we moved here.

Right now, I'm preparing myself for the Boston Police Academy. I work as a security guard at Copley Mall. It's an okay job. Pays the bills, you know. I still live at home but intend to move out as soon as possible. My younger sister Janice is a tall, slender and dark-skinned young black woman who devours urban fiction books and celebrity gossip magazines like they're her bread and butter. She's a freshman at Emerson College and she lives in the dorms over there. My older brother Eric is a big and tall, chocolate-skinned brother with a buzz cut. He's a Corporal with the United States Marine Corps. He went into the military right out of West Point. He recently returned from Iraq after two tours of duty and now works as a patrol officer with the Massachusetts State Troopers. He's my idol. I hope to join him on the force someday.

I am very proud of myself and my family, as you probably can tell. We've gone through so much together. That's why I know black men and black women can make it work if they want to. In the household where I grew up, father and mother respected one another. I've seen my parents argue but I've never seen them disrespect or mistreat each other either physically or mentally. The image of the constantly bickering black couple does not apply to them. I respect my father and mother, and they respect me. My siblings and I don't always get along but we respect each other. We're a family. I was brought up to believe the family unit is sacred. Parents were owed the love and respect of their children and vice versa. That's how it worked in the Saint Michel household.

This is why I often have a problem with my fellow black men and black women. Especially the men and women of African-American society. They're always so bitter and angry. And so incredibly mean and rude, too. Sometimes, I wonder what their problem is. Why do they always blame their problems on the white man? These days, no one has it easy. Everyone gets the shaft from life sooner or later. I know of white women who are beggars on the street. I know of white men who are completely destitute. I know of wealthy black folks who are living large. I know of innocent men locked away for crimes they didn't commit. And I know of women as well as men who have been allowed to get away with murder. That's life, I guess.

The protection of decent, hard-working men and women along with their families and friends, that's why I want to get into law enforcement. To stand between good people and the forces of evil. I know things aren't always this black and white. I know there is treachery and deceit out there. I know of the astonishing number of ways men and women can and do lash out at one another. They've been at it since the beginning of human history. However, I still have hope. Someday, things will be better.

I live at home with my parents and things aren't easy for them. Luckily, we always manage to pay the mortgage on the duplex we inhabit. We've only got about five more years to go. I contribute to helping my family by paying for groceries and electricity, along with the Internet access on the family computer. My brother and sister also chip in. Our parents can certainly use our help, though they don't ask for it. We all do our part. That's why I'm confident that we're going to get through these difficult times that the country is facing right now. A strong and loving family that works hard and sticks together can get through anything. God willing. That's my sincere belief.

I wish my African-American brothers and sisters would see that. Unfortunately, they choose to close their eyes to that truth. The other day, I was on the Red Line Train heading to work when I heard two black women talking. They were going on and on about the dearth of available black men out there, and how they wish black males would get their act together. I shook my head and ignored their banter. A young black man came in, and sat next to a blonde-haired white woman who was clearly his girlfriend. They looked affectionately at one another and kissed. I smiled. I'm always happy to see happy couples. The world could use more of them. The two black women who had been talking previously glared at the young black man and his white girlfriend with pure disdain. I couldn't help but smile.

When the train stopped at my destination, Park Street, I couldn't help but tell these two bitter black women what I thought of them. I told them that there were plenty of smart, educated and available brothers out there. But these brothers were turned off by sisters who were bitter and had nothing good to say about the males of the black race. It's no wonder so many brothers were looking for love outside the race. When I said that, all eyes on the train were on me. The two black women looked at me angrily, and unleashed some angry tongue-lashing at me. I smiled at them, and walked out. It felt good to say that.

As I walked through Boston Common toward Copley, I breathed in the October air. What a world. There is a black man running for the office of the President of the United States of America. And he's a lot more popular than any white candidate in previous years. I pray to God that he wins. He's won the hearts of many in white America. He's talented, smart and capable. He's worthy of the presidency of this country. However, even as black men are accomplishing more and more these days, too many black women simply don't have faith in them. I knew plenty of smart and capable young black men at Boston College. They were African-American, Haitian, Dominican, Cuban, Brazilian, Jamaican and African. We formed an unofficial brotherhood, visible only to each other. I loved my brothers. I just wish our 'sisters' still loved us. Too many black women judge a black man long before they ever meet him.

Those same black women make it a habit of dating black men who just got out of prison, or are on their way there. These same black men who aren't very stable and have multiple offspring by multiple mothers and no means of supporting themselves, let alone their offspring. That's who educated black women choose to go after. Educated, intelligent and hard-working black men are ignored by black women in the dating game. Black women prefer thugs, gangsters, hustlers and rappers. They don't like the educated, hard-working black gentleman. They know he exists, they simply don't care to associate with him. Yet when he seeks happiness with a woman outside of his race, they get mad and act all offended. Give me a break, ladies! You don't get a hard-working, educated black man because you don't deserve one! So let the brother seek happiness with a person of any race he chooses, that's his right! Thank you very much!

As I entered Copley Mall, I was aware of people staring at me. A tall, good-looking black man in a security uniform. I simply ignored them, and reported to work. I've had women of all races along with quite a few men hitting on me. I politely turn them all down. I'm not looking for any liaison with anyone right now. I want to get into the police academy and become a cop. And I know I'll make it. I'm young and healthy. I've passed the civil service exam. I don't have a criminal record. And I've got a bachelors degree from one of America's top colleges. I know I'll make a fine cop, God willing.

Someday, I'll go out there looking for a mate. I'd love to meet a God-fearing, college-educated, hard-working, and decent young lady who will share my interests. I want a real lady with class and dignity, along with decency. No hussy. No chicken-head. No slut. No whore. I don't care what race she belongs to. If and when I find her, I want us to build a household and a family together. And by the grace of God, we will be blessed with many sons and daughters, and much happiness. Until then, I focus on my work and I treasure the family I was born into. I know that a black couple can respect one another and build a great household and family, and have much happiness together. I hope the African-Americans understand this someday. Until then, I encourage all of you to keep your hearts and mind open.

Samuelx
Samuelx
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3 Comments
AnonymousAnonymousover 15 years ago
This is not good

I have read two of your posts, and I am curious. Do you not like Black people? I am a Black woman and I find your sweeping generalizations to be offensive and, in truth, hurtful. Without doubt, there are many in our community who do not represent us very well, but to use terms like "most" black women is to degrade, what I believe, is the majority of black women is wrong. I am a mother (all my children are by my husband), wife, student, and overall productive member of society and so are my friends. My children are surrounded by positive influences and have the love and care of both parents and extended family. To that end, I will not justify myself to you or anyone else who places everyone into a contented stereotype. Like you, I am a Criminal Justice major with a Focus in Forensic Psychology. Based on my training, I hope that you are able to get your discriminatory judgements under control because in a city with an already historically tense relationship between law enforcement and citizens, your attitude can only lead to greater antagonism.

AnonymousAnonymousover 15 years ago
AT LAST

I was extremely pleased to read this excellent essay. I was equally surprised to see it in Literotica. Too often the contributors are mired in the racism of sex. Everytime I read the tired story about the conquering of a white wife or girlfriend by a big black buck I shutter.There is great misconception concerning the attraction of the Black Male image in society. It is not the big cock or buffed body, it is his 'tell-it-like-it is quality' of the African American male, as you show in your essay. Most of the sex lives of couples in the Western World are about fantasy. That is why so many wives feel unfulfilled in their relationships. The 'tell like it is quality' exudes energy and realness. It celebrates life, the moment, the creative burst.

shangoshangoover 15 years ago
Negro, Please!

What makes you think...what the Hell am I asking?

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