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A Black Man Rules The World

Brother Samuel Xavier here. America's favorite big and tall, openly bisexual Black male urban fiction writer. The man without fear. Always eager to speak up on behalf of men's rights and men's issues, race issues and humanitarian causes in general. Also, an outspoken defender of environmental issues and animal rights, and the most dedicated member of Society Against Neutering. That's me. You may have noticed that lately, my focus has shifted. I write more Black male and Black female-positive stories. Stories celebrating love and unity between Black men and Black women, rather than hatred and division. I won't deny that I feel a lot of anger toward my fellow Black men, and at Black women in particular. But all that's changed thanks to the influence of a beautiful, voluptuous sistah named Wendy.

I have known Wendy for years. Ever since sophomore year at Bay State College in downtown Boston. This dark-skinned, curvy and big-bottomed, sexy young Black woman has been my pal for years. When we met, I was quite confused about who and what I was. Nowadays, I'm not scared to introduce myself to anyone as a bisexual Black male or as a men's issues advocate. Always speaking up on behalf of the forgotten side of human issues. However, there was a time when I felt ashamed of myself because I was a closeted bisexual and male bisexuality isn't tolerated in the Haitian Community.

Recently, I told Wendy I was bisexual. Just one afternoon while we were hanging out at Westgate Mall in the city of Brockton. And you know what? It wasn't a big deal to her. She told me that she already knew, she was just waiting for me to tell her. Folks, I love this woman. She's special to me. Wendy accepts me for who I am and she's there for me. I used to think that no Haitian woman could ever accept a Haitian man who was gay or bisexual. Our community is deeply conservative. In Haiti, men have been killed merely because someone alleged they were anything other than heterosexual. Just because I live in America doesn't mean I stopped being Haitian. And I consider myself very much a member of the Haitian-American community. The opinions of my fellow Haitians matters to me. I just never thought they would ever accept me.

Over the years, I've come out to a few family members. My cousin Vamica in Ottawa, Canada, knows I am bisexual. As does my mother, Elsie. My cousin Ivan in Brentwood, Long Island, also knows. He's cool. He recently married his college sweetheart and they're raising a son named Jayden together. My father Francois and I still haven't had the talk. I don't know if we ever will. My dad is a successful businessman and a respected member of the community in my old hometown of Cap-Haitien in Haiti. Not the sort of man who would want people to know one of his sons was queer. I fear he might disown me if he found out. So even though Wendy encourages me to share the news with him and let him to get to know the real me, I don't think the time has come. It might never come. These days, I feel blessed, though. I thank God for His blessings. I am writing and publishing my urban erotica works via a little-known yet fast-growing international publisher. I'm in a relationship with a smart, beautiful young Black woman who accepts me for who I am. Life is okay, I guess.

It's not easy being me, folks. If I seem mad at the world a lot, it's because I've felt betrayed by those closest to me. My father, my mother, my sister, my uncles and aunts, all have dished out some mistreatment to me over the years. I've tried to forgive them, but I can't forget what they've done. I try to stay positive, you know. Life isn't a bed of roses but it's not all bad. Men and women have made a lot of progress over the years. My faith in humanity isn't completely gone. Racial and gender issues, along with religion and sexual orientation continue to dominate the political scene. However, I've seen people make great strides toward making the world a better place. I've seen female students at big colleges stand up to the rigid rules of Title IX on behalf of young men whose sports teams were endangered. I've seen men and women, Black people and white people unite to elect a young Black man as President of the United States, looking at his intellect, his good will and his qualifications rather than his skin color. There is hope for this planet after all.

There isn't a single category of human being who hasn't suffered. White people have suffered too. Just like Black people. In the days of the Roman Empire, men and women from lands conquered by the Roman Army were enslaved, whether they had white skin, blond hair and blue eyes or ebony skin and dark eyes. Slavery is first and foremost the subjugation of one human being by another who seeks to exploit him or her. I think all humanity can see that it's wrong, try to let bygones be bygones and move on with our lives. Men have suffered too. We're not the dominant masters of the universe that some make us out to be. We are people too. Fathers. Brothers. Sons. We're workers, employers and employees. We're human beings. We're not a threat to womankind. We're the other half of the human species. And we deserve to be treated with dignity and respect.

Women have done their share of suffering. None of us can deny that. In the twenty-first century, we should acknowledge that both men and women can contribute energetically to human society. Working together, people of all races and both sexes can accomplish great things. It's all one world, folks. When you really look at it. I see males and females, Blacks and whites, straights and gays as the fingers on our hands. One shouldn't cut a finger because it is seen as less useful than the others. A missing finger will be missed sorely by its owner. Let's try to unite as human beings whose lives are messed up by a lousy economy, and whose planet is undergoing radical changes, rather than allow ourselves to be divided along the lines of racial, gender, religious, national and sexual politics.

Wendy and I are living on Brockton's West Side as of today. And we're raising a lovely daughter named Stephanie together. She's named after my grandfather, Stephen. Isn't it funny? The most outspoken men's issues and men's rights advocate on the planet, the icon of the bisexual community, is living with a heterosexual Black woman and they're raising a daughter together. Wendy and Stephanie are precious to me, though my resolve to defend men's issues and men's rights continues to fire my blood. It's amazing what fatherhood can do to transform a man. To the men and women of the world, I wish you the best of luck. Try to respect each other as human beings. Whether we're discussing race, gender, health, financial status, sexual orientation or national origin, let's not forget that all human beings suffer in some way simply for being in this world. Our time here is short. Let's not waste it. Peace and God Bless!

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