Haitian Superman Rules The World

My name is Samuel Xavier. I'm a big and tall young Black man of Haitian descent living in the city of Brockton, Massachusetts. I attend the University of Massachusetts in Boston, having transferred there after graduating from Massasoit Community College a year ago. I'm twenty four years old. And I'm a closeted bisexual. This is my life, I guess. A drama-filled existence, that's what I seemed destined for.

Being bisexual and Haitian simply don't mix, for the most part. I've been lucky, though, especially when compared to some of my gay and bisexual Haitian friends. My mother Elsie, sister Anne, cousins Mica and Ivan and a few friends know about this side of me. My father Francois and the rest of the family don't know because they're intolerant and homophobic. My aunt Gabrielle is the most homophobic person on the planet. She's also a sociopath. I can see her for what she is, though the rest of the family thinks she's a saint. While living under her roof, I've got to watch out. Her husband Louis is a passive-aggressive bastard who hates my guts. Her son Shelby is a cunning and very manipulative bastard. Her daughter Cassandra is a two-faced bitch. These are the people I'm forced to live with. My parents live in the Caribbean. I reside in America while pursuing higher education. And my life isn't easy.

My favorite refuge for the longest time has been the Brockton Community Library. The big one located on Main Street. Unbeknownst to my family members is the fact that I'm an author. I've written many books which I've published through a small, independent, print-on-demand publishing agency. Whenever I write a new book, I like to donate a free copy to the library. After all, it's at the library that I discovered my love of fiction writing. My books feature characters that are the way I wish I were. Bold, good-looking and forthrightly bisexual Black males. I put them in all kinds of situations. From the United States Senate to the Massachusetts State Police, I make my heroes men of action. There are too many white male action heroes out there. We could use a few more Black male heroes. In one of my horror novels, the hero of the story is a bisexual Black male vampire. He takes on an army of monsters to save humanity in a nightmare world.

Yeah, I've got a wild imagination. To date, I've donated seventeen books to the Brockton library system. Most of them are in the African-American section, though some of them are in the Science Fiction and Horror sections. Once upon a time, the library was the place to be. Now it isn't. I don't know if it's because of the statewide budget cuts due to the Recession, but the town's librarians seem to be really on edge. And some of them seemed to have turned to the dark side. Patrons like myself have noticed that when we placed holds on certain library items on the computer, someone with access to the state library network controls had switched them around or deleted them altogether. I think there are pranksters working at the library, along with racists and sociopaths.

Laurel used to be one of my favorite librarians. A forty-something, dark-haired and meek white woman. She liked to encourage local authors by setting up panel discussions to which the public was invited. Two years ago, I was on the panel of local authors. People came, and they listened to me as I read chapters of my work. They liked it. There aren't too many bisexual Black male heroes in western literature. That made my work stand out. Rather than dwell on my characters race or sexual orientation, I made them dynamic men in amazing situations. And I seemed to be getting quite a fan base because of it. What can I say? I've got talent, and I'm not afraid to use it. Like I said, Laurel used to be one of the coolest librarians around. Then, after Barack Obama got elected the first Black President of the United States, she seemed to get in touch with her inner racist.

It's not as if this lady I'd known for years suddenly started spewing hateful language. Nope. Nothing that obvious. She simply seemed to get colder with the African-American patrons at the Brockton library. As the person in charge of the fiction resources at the library, she orders books based on patron interest. Lately, she doesn't seem to buy any books for the African-American section. Before you go on about the recession crunching the state's budget for libraries, keep in mind that she buys plenty of books to stack up the sections where white male and white female readers like to pick their titles. Yeah. Little things like that convinced me that Laurel was indeed a racist. I've always known there were plenty of racist white women out there. And they're more dangerous than the racist white men. For example, there's this middle-aged, red-haired white woman named Lucille who works at the library and she's a racist. Just a more visible one than Laurel. She gives the Black patrons of the library a placid, fake smile when dealing with them and rolls her eyes at them when they're not looking. What a creep!

It seems that the world is getting worse day by day. Black people are enjoying quite a lot of political power these days. The President of the United States is a Black man. The Governor of Massachusetts is a Black man. The Governor of New York is a Black man. The Republican National Committee is led by a Black man. The Attorney General of the United States is a Black man. Black people have turned the city of Atlanta, Georgia, ( once a white enclave and stronghold of the racist Old South ) into one of the main seats of Black power in America. The city of Atlanta ranks higher in the echelon of Black power and achievement than places like the town of Harlem in New York, the city of Savannah in Georgia and the city of Detroit, Michigan. All of these cities have Black majority populations. Atlanta is a pearl in the eye of Black America. We took it from the racist Southerners and made it our own.

I think Black people's achievements in business, politics, education and entertainment have put a lot of white men and white women in touch with their inner racist. Simply put, we make them nervous. Add to that the fact that so-called minority populations ( especially Blacks and Hispanics ) are growing faster than the white population, which is actually in numerical decline. In the states of California and Texas, Hispanics now outnumber whites, with Blacks close behind. In the state of Georgia, Blacks will soon outnumber whites. In three to four decades, white men and white women will be outnumbered by the new majority, made up of Blacks, Hispanics and Asians. That's just the way of the world, folks.

All of these things make life interesting in twenty-first century America. I am proud of my people. I'm Haitian, born and bred. I hail from the Republic of Haiti, an independent Black republic founded in the year 1804. Black men and Black women brought from Africa to be the lifelong servants of white men and white women from France revolted against the colonial powers, destroyed the armies sent against them and proclaimed themselves independent. And we've been free and clear ever since. Are we in dire financial straits? Of course, but guess what? So are the almighty Americans and Europeans who consider themselves so tough! The Recession has caused hundreds of thousands of white men and white women in America and Europe to self-destruct after losing work and home. No Haitian or Haitian-American man would ever destroy himself for these reasons. We're a stronger breed than that. We can take hardship. Hell, we can carve an empire out of nothing. When the smoke clears, we'll be left standing, not the pampered elitists of white America and Europe.

Yes, I am proud of my people. All Black people everywhere. The Africans living in Europe, irking out a living and succeeding in these bastions of whiteness. The African-American in Canada and America. The newly empowered Black person of Africa, free from imperialism at last. The Black man of Brazil. South Africa, the economic powerhouse of the African continent, is now led by Black men and Black women. The way it should have been all along. Because of my love for Black people, my people, I continue to work hard in school and write books celebrating the Black experience. I write about gay and bisexual Black men living their lives in the open and fighting the evils of racism and homophobic. I write about Black male and Black female superheroes taking on monsters, aliens and demons in fantastic novels of science fiction and horror.

I am proud of my literary works, and I am delighted to see Black men and Black women picking them off the shelves at the Brockton library. For this, I endure the closet racism of wicked women like Laurel and Lucille. I'm fighting for my people! For them, I endure hell at the hands of my aunt Gabrielle, the most destructive sociopath I've ever known.

Sometimes, when seeking solace, I go to the Brockton Area Seventh-Day Adventist Church. It's a brand-new Haitian-American church located near the Bat Center in Brockton. I love seeing so many well-dressed and serene Black men and Black women in one place. There's a lovely Haitian woman there who caught my eye. Her name is Roselie. She's tall, curvy and mighty fine-looking. A gorgeous, dark-skinned and absolutely lovely black woman. I met her at Massasoit Community College a year ago and I showed her one of my novels. She really liked it, and congratulated me on getting it published. This gorgeous gal told me she loved it when young Haitian people made progress. She was so pretty, frank and friendly. Also, she was really nice. Once, she gave me a ride from school to the bus station after I missed my bus. Isn't that cool?

Roselie is one of those few people outside of my family and inner circle of friends who knows I'm bisexual. And it doesn't seem to phase her a bit. I've caught her looking at me at church, and we've even flirted a few times. I don't know, folks. Should I go for it? Well, we do have a lot in common. This gal is in her late thirties, I'm in my mid-twenties. We're both Haitian-Americans living in Brockton. We attend the same church. We both seem to be unattached. She's always solo when I see her at church, at my old school or at the mall. Maybe this lovely black woman could use some company. Something to heat up her nights in the summer of 2009. Who knows? Maybe this brother might be just what the doctor ordered!