The name is Jean-Louis Bernard. You can call me J.B. Everyone does. I'm a big and tall young Black man of Haitian descent living in the City of Montreal, Province of Quebec. By day, I drive a Cab all around the City. At night, I take classes at Concordia University. I'm one semester away from obtaining my Master's degree in Business Administration. I moved to the City of Montreal, Quebec, from my native town of Cap-Haitien in Northern Haiti. That was almost six years ago. I was twenty years old at the time. These days, I'm happily married to a sexy Quebecoise lady named Anneke Mathieu. My wife recently celebrated her thirty-first birthday. She works as a Schoolteacher in Montreal-Nord. We have twin sons, Petion and Joey, and our lives are basically okay.
A lot of my relatives were stunned when I fell in love with a towering, chubby and big-bottomed, blonde-haired and green-eyed French Canadian woman a few months after I moved to the City of Montreal. I've only dated Black women before. I wasn't into White women. They seemed good only to get Black guys in trouble if you asked me. Fortunately for me, Anneke wasn't like that. She grew up in the heavily Haitian section of Metropolitan Montreal known as Montreal-Nord. She spoke Haitian Creole. And she had a thing for Haitian men. Her relatives were aware of her preference and had given up on changing her mind. Anneke publicly dated Haitian men, and didn't hide it.
The thing about my family which surprises me is the double standard by which they operate. My older half-sister Sabrina has lived in the City of Montreal her whole life and she mainly dates Hispanic men and White men, never Black men. Yet whenever she sees a Black man with a White lady, she calls him a sell-out. Sometimes to his face. See the double standard? I tell my sister that she is racist but she doesn't seem to realize it. Black women like to have their cake and eat it too, man. They feel like they can date whatever race they want but frown when they see Black guys doing the same thing. Whatever. I'm all about living my life. Not focusing on racial politics.
My dear Anneke was a couple years older than me at the time we met. She was just finishing her program at the University of Montreal. This tall, busty, chubby and big-bottomed White lady intrigued me. Like many Haitians living in the Confederation of Canada, I'm not exactly in love with White folks. The nations of Europe and North America continue to make the Republic of Haiti pay for defeating White slave owners and their armies centuries ago and remaining independent since then. I know they've had their hand in stalling the development and political stability of the Haitian Nation. They've got their double agents in the Haitian government. Fools who are eager to sell out their people for foreign money. Whatever.
Yeah, I was really surprised when I found myself liking Anneke, the French Canadian woman with the biggest ass I've ever seen on a White female. Not only did she speak Haitian Creole but she knew the history of the Haitian people and seemed to respect our culture. I found that quite strange. In my experience with White men and White women, they don't respect the cultures or ways of people of color. Even when you see a White guy with a Black woman or an Asian woman, he still considers himself superior to them by virtue of his color and culture. That kind of arrogance seems bred in the blood and bone. I honestly didn't think White folks could stop being racist even if they tried.
