I used to say never but I guess I changed my mind. And I'm glad I did. My name is Theodore Jeunesse. My friends call me T.J. Who am I? A big and tall Black man of Haitian descent living in the City of Ottawa, Province of Ontario. I have lived in the City of Ottawa for a long time. My family moved there from the City of Cap-Haitien in the Republic of Haiti when I was much younger. A lot of people say the City of Ottawa is boring but it's really the political heart of the Confederation of Canada. I am proud to be one of the few high-ranking professionals of African descent working in the City's deeply private and cutthroat business sector.
Being a successful Black businessman in the Confederation of Canada isn't easy. A lot of times it's about who you know rather than what you know. Of course, being educated helps but it's not everything. I hold a bachelor's degree in Computer Science from Carleton University and an MBA from the University of Ottawa. Presently I work for Futurist-Design Enterprises, as a mid-level executive. We do most if not all the high-tech and supremely cool car commercials in the Confederation of Canada. I was hired by the Head of Human Resources, Carolyn Anderson, mainly because we had mutual friends. Carolyn Anderson's best friend Anne Madison is a good friend and former classmate of mine at Carleton University. Anne recommended me and Carolyn hired me. How about that?
I see a lot of young Black women and young Black men at the major educational institutions of the City of Ottawa. Schools like the University of Ottawa, Carleton University, Algonquin College and La Cite Collegiale have scores of Black students. Unfortunately, these students face an uphill climb in the job market once they graduate. I graduated from the University of Ottawa's MBA Program in 2006. I found a terrific job a mere three months after graduation. I guess you could say I was one of the lucky ones. I know plenty of Black men and Black women with University degrees in Ottawa who work lousy jobs because they can't find work in their fields. It's a very sad state of the affairs, folks. I try not to let it get to me.
As successful as I am in my professional life, my personal life is less than perfect. I love my family, of course. I recently bought a house in Toronto for my parents, Louis and Mathilda Jeunesse. A little something to thank them for raising me so well. It wasn't easy. Dad worked as a Corrections Officer and Mom worked as a restaurant manager. Somehow, they pulled it together to not only raise me but also to give me a better future. Us Haitians form such devoted and close-knit families. Unfortunately, today's young Black women lack the fortitude and devotion that made Black women the basis of all strong Black families in the old days. Case in point? Please read on!
Recently, I was dumped by my girlfriend of five years, Melissa Samson. The five-foot-nine, gorgeous Haitian-born and Montreal-based supermodel simply dumped me out of the blue. And in passing she revealed to me that she'd been having an affair with my ex-friend Sean Hawthorne, an Englishman who used to work as an accountant at F.D. Enterprises. I never knew that my Afro-centric ( Melissa loves African art and hates seeing Black men with White chicks ) Haitian girlfriend was into White guys. And I never knew my very married English colleague fancied my girlfriend. I guess I got played for a fool. That day, I nearly committed suicide, folks. I took about a thousand pills and landed in the hospital. Awesome way for a twenty-seven-year-old man of means to celebrate his birthday, eh?
Well, as fate would have it, I met someone special while at the hospital. Emily O'Shea. A six-foot-one, curvy and big-bottomed, absolutely stunning Irishwoman hailing from the City of Melbourne in Australia. Emily is a recent Nursing school graduate working at the Ottawa-Carleton Hospital. She has her Master's degree in Nursing from the University of Toronto. This thirty-something, blonde-haired and green-eyed, somewhat heavyset ( she proudly told me she's ten pounds heavier than me ) but totally sexy Australian lady is also the proud mother of a half-Japanese, half-Irish son named Shawn Yamamoto O'Shea. Her Japanese ex-husband Tom Yamamoto went back to Japan after his businesses in Australia took a hit during the Global Recession of the mid-2000s. Wanting a fresh start, Emily moved to Canada. That was five years ago. Wow.
The lovely Emily and I became friends. This gorgeously curvy Australian woman was disgusted by the thought of suicide. She thought only cowardly men took their lives. Like most Australians I've met, she spoke her mind and didn't believe in mincing words. I kind of liked that about her. After years of getting duped by a sweet-talking Haitian hussy who nearly destroyed me, I could use some brutal honesty. I found myself fascinated by Emily. She was a fascinating woman. I learned how her racist Australian family basically disowned her when she decided to marry the handsome Japanese student she met while attending the University of Melbourne. Wow. I guess she hadn't had an easy life. Emily told me that she'd always been the kind of woman who followed her heart and took no prisoners. I smiled when she told me that. I guess we were kindred spirits in a way. I have always been one to love a bit too hard. My friends warned me that Melissa Samson was a bimbo when we met but I was too in love with her to heed their warnings. I thought of her as my Black Goddess. My Ebony Queen. The future mother of my brats. Besides, she was good-looking, educated, proudly Black and ambitious...just like me. I thought we were a match made in heaven. I didn't expect my Black Goddess to sleep with one of my White male friends behind my back.
I found myself feeling like a fool every time I thought of Melissa Samson. I kept thinking of her sleeping with Hawthorne. I'm not a racist or anything but the idea of the Black woman in my life sleeping with White guys behind my back fills me with anger. I think many Black men can relate to me on that one. No, I'm not going to go all Lakeview Terrace on her. If she wants to try Something New, she could have been woman enough to tell me. Why did Melissa cheat on me? I offered her the world. I was always patient and generous with her. I worshiped the ground she walked on. I helped her Haitian parents get their permanent residency in this country with a little help from a friend of mine who works at the Canadian Immigration And Refugee Board. Wasn't I good to her? I think so. I always treated her with respect. The day she graduated from the University of Montreal with her bachelor's degree in sociology, I celebrated by buying her a brand-new car. If you ask me, I think I was the perfect boyfriend!
Sometimes, I wonder if there is something about me that says sucker. Seriously. I talked to Emily about that. We were having coffee in her living room one night. Her son Shawn was fast asleep after playing video games. My romantic failures still bothered me. I wanted to get a woman's viewpoint on this. My entire life I've often been mistreated by the women I dated. I've dated Haitian women, Jamaican women, Ethiopian women, Somalian women, Eritrean women, Sudanese women, Congolese women, Nigerian women, Djibouti women, Afro-Brazilian women and Afro-Cuban women. Always with the same results. None of them were as fond of me as I was of them. I always cared more for them than they cared for me. They often cheated on me with Black guys who were thugs or gangsters. Guys without anything real to offer these beautiful Black women.
And sometimes it wasn't even thuggish Black guys. Sometimes, they left me for White guys or other women! One of my ex-girlfriends cheated on me with Jada Vincent, one of my female cousins! How about that? I've got Nice Guy Syndrome. Side effect of my parents raising me too well, I guess. Emily listened to my spiel as I poured my heart out. So much for the Invincible Black Man image I try to project, eh? I'm six-foot-four and weigh 250 pounds. Yet I feel more vulnerable than a house cat on the highway when it comes to the worlds of dating and romance. Emily smiled and gently told me there was nothing wrong with me.