The Black Men You Dont Know

What's going on, folks? The name is Samuel Joseph Etienne and I'm a 29-year-old Black gentleman of Haitian descent living in the City of Boston, Massachusetts. I am a graduate of the University of Massachusetts, and work for an accounting firm in downtown Boston. Six-foot-two, lean and athletic, with medium brown skin, curly Black hair and light brown eyes, that's me. A brother with a decidedly hellish life.

What am I talking about? Please let me explain. I'm married to a six-foot-tall, lovely Jamaican honey named Mary Anne Gulliver, and we are the proud parents of two daughters, Jessica and Kendra. I love my life and I love my wife, but lately, things have been rocky between us. I am not sure what to do to fix it. I am not even sure if things can be fixed. I was stuck, and then along came a game changer.

A month ago, I was walking through the Copley Mall downtown, and decided to grab a bite at the food court. Just an ordinary, well-dressed brother walking through the mostly White crowd of well-to-do shoppers, the cream of Boston's crop. The first time I set foot inside the Copley Mall was almost a decade ago. I was a business student at nearby Bay State College, only nineteen years old, just a young man with a dream.

My parents, Justine and Clement Etienne moved to the City of Boston, Massachusetts, from their hometown of Jacmel, southern Haiti, in the 1980s. I was born in Boston, and grew up immersed in the Haitian community. While at Bay State College, I met the woman destined to change my life forever. Mary Anne Gulliver, the Jamaican honey.

Mary Anne was born in the City of Hartford, Connecticut, to a Jamaican immigrant mother and a White American father. The first time I laid eyes on the tall, light-skinned and curvaceous gal, I was mesmerized. That face, that curvy body and that ass, man. I dared to approach Mary Anne and even though it took a few tries, I finally got her number and asked her out. That's how it all began. We began dating, and eventually got hitched.

After Bay State College, I went to the University of Massachusetts at Amherst to earn my Master's degree in accounting, and while it wasn't easy juggling college and married life, Mary Anne and I got through it. I am very proud of us for that. My wife Mary Anne earned herself a Bachelor's degree in Criminal Justice from UMass-Amherst, and we returned to Boston, poised to conquer it. The thing I love most about Boston is how open and diverse it is.

This is the town where Deval Patrick, the State of Massachusetts first African-American Governor, got elected. I see lots of Black students at Boston-area schools like Boston College, Boston University, Bay State College, Emerson College, Tufts University, Northeastern University, Suffolk University, Gibbs College, Brandeis University, Harvard University, the Massachusetts Institute of Technology, Babson College, Bentley University, Fisher College, and many more. I truly believe it's the best place in all of America in terms of racial diversity, openness and culture.

Now, as much as I love Boston, I won't pretend there is no racism there. Nevertheless, I didn't let the haters in high places stop me. Armed with my degree, I hit the pavement, and looked for work. Took me three months, but I finally landed a job with a small accounting firm. Lee, Friesen & Adewale, that's the firm's name. I had an interview with the firm's founding partners, Douglas Lee, Eric Friesen and Anthony Adewale. They were not what I was expecting.

When most of us envision business leaders, we tend to think of middle-aged White males in suits. Even though Boston's workforce is diverse, that image persists in the minds of most Bostonians, including educated and ambitious Haitian-American businessmen like myself. This firm's founders blew me away. Nice to see some diversity at the top, what can I say?

Douglas Lee was born and raised in Taiwan, moved to the United States of America as a young man and studied accounting at Harvard University. Eric Friesen was born in Heidelberg, Germany, and met Lee at Harvard. The firm's last partner, Anthony Adewale, was born in the City of London, Ontario, to Nigerian immigrant parents, and moved to America after earning his MBA from the University of Toronto. I found these men friendly, honest, and sharp. I must have made a good impression on them too because they hired me. Their office is located at 500 Boylston Street. They have forty seven accountants working for them. Lucky me.

As a husband and father, my family is my top priority and providing for them is what consumes me. As a newcomer to the world of corporate accounting, I make about sixty nine thousand dollars after taxes. That sounds good, eh? Wait until you see my experiences. Mary Anne and I live in Brighton, which is a pricy area not far from downtown Boston. Private school for our daughters isn't exactly cheap. Factor in the fact that our four-bedroom townhouse is a money pit and you can understand why I feel like I'm drowning under an ocean of debt.

Yeah, I sat inside the Copley Mall food court, staring at my plate of shrimp-fried rice, orange chicken, veggie egg roll and my can of Pepsi without really seeing them. I sat there, surrounded by loud, happy people. To my right, a young Black woman gently touched the knee of a tall, blonde-haired young man who sat opposite her. A short-haired Asian woman exchanged a passionate kiss with a young redhead while a trio of young Black men walking by grinned at them.

I am twenty nine years old, and feel like I'm eighty years old. I, Samuel Joseph Etienne, feel like a tired old man. Clad in a Black suit over a blue silk shirt, Black tie, Black silk pants and Black timberland shoes, I looked pretty dapper. I felt like I had the weight of the world on my shoulders. Lately, things have been hellish with my beloved wife Mary Anne. My Jamaican honey has become a domestic tyrant. What happened? Oh, I wonder the same thing myself.

You see, at some point, my wife Mary Anne changed from the carefree and lovely gal I met during my freshman year at Bay State College into something that would scare the Devil himself. Things used to be different. Mary Anne used to be fun. My wife changed after giving birth to our daughters. Our sex life has dried up. We fight all the time. I've proposed hiring a nanny for our daughters so Mary Anne and I could go out and rekindle our romance. Not happening.

I work hard at my job and I am good at it, but my home life is problematic. I love my daughters, but Mary Anne has morphed into something I now fear and wish to be free from. After graduating from UMass-Amherst with her criminal justice degree, Mary Ellen looked for work in her field and found none. Something she blames me for.

I sat there and wondered what I was doing when my life went to hell. That's when I saw someone who looked vaguely familiar. My heart skipped a beat when I recognized someone I hadn't seen since my Bay State College days. Wendy Durand Parker, the young woman I constantly butted heads with in my Ethics class. I sat there, frozen. You see, Wendy worked at the school library, and I used to have a thing for her.

If you saw Wendy back then, you'd understand why. Five-foot-nine, with dark bronze skin, long Black hair and light green eyes, Wendy wasn't my usual type. You see, her father James Parker was White and her mother Leanna Durand is half Black and half White. Somehow, Wendy came out looking like a Latina, even though she's got some African blood within her. Genetics are a weird thing, eh?

When I first met Wendy Parker, I thought she was Mexican or Brazilian or something but the tall, bronzed cutie proudly told me that she was mixed-race. I liked her, but in those days, I was painfully shy around the ladies. Wendy liked me, I think, but I waited too long and she ended up with this guy named Steve, and I married Mary Anne. I smiled at Wendy as she walked by, and imagine my surprise when she smiled at me and actually stopped.

Wendy looked me up and down, flashed me that fearless smile, and then greeted me joyfully. Hesitantly, I shook her hand, and invited her to grab lunch with me. Sitting across from me and sipping on her coke, Wendy looked amazing. Clad in a stylish pantsuit and White blouse, she looked awesome. We sat together and caught up. After Bay State College, Wendy went to Wheelock College, where she earned her bachelor's degree in business. Then she went to Northeastern University for her MBA. These days, Wendy Parker is working for a corporation on Beacon Hill. How cool is that?

Sitting across from her, I found myself awed by how lovely Wendy Parker looked. It has been a decade since I last saw her, but the lady looked real hot. People of African descent tend to age slower than other people, and Wendy looked almost a decade younger than her twenty nine years. Like me, Wendy was married. Her husband Joel Castillo was a Latino dude whom she met at Wheelock College. They have a son together, like Cesar. Wendy showed me their picture on her phone. Lovely family, for real.

Folks, I was honestly happy to see Wendy, but I was surprised when she gave me her number and told me that she wanted us to catch up. Honestly, while at Bay State College, Wendy and I ran in different circles. I was a nerd, and had few friends. Mr. Introvert, that's who I was. Wendy Parker on the other hand was a social butterfly, the stylish and beautiful gal with money and a ton of friends. We didn't exactly hang in the same circles. Still, we were always friendly to each other. In memory of that, I took her number.

Wendy Parker and I got up, after spending over an hour talking. I reached out to give her a handshake, but Wendy smiled and kissed me on the cheek, and winked at me. I was surprised, but put a smile on and wished her a good day. As Wendy walked away, I watched her big butt which looked amazing in her business-style pants, and smiled some more. Always good to see an old friend, I thought to myself as I returned to work. I punched Wendy's number into my cell phone, texted her a warm greeting, and then went back to work. Hey, I'm married but not dead, alright?