Men's Rights Champions

Sometimes, I wonder why so many people seem to get such joy out of opposing the hard-working, determined high-achievers they encounter. I knew the answer to the question the moment I asked it of myself. Pretenders always hate the real thing. And they know it when they see it. My name is Stefan Brunswick. A young black man living in the city of Boston, Massachusetts. Six feet two inches tall, somewhat bulky at 240 pounds, but still ruggedly good-looking, with dark brown skin and light gray eyes. That's me. I'm currently a second-year student at the Suffolk University Law School. This right here is my story of getting by in the big city.

I am eternally thankful to my father, Stuart Brunswick, for all he has done for me. This silver-haired, diminutive African-American tax attorney is the strongest man I know. He fought hard all his life so that I might have a better life than he did. I am also thankful to my mother, community college mathematics professor Stephanie Aldrea Brunswick. She and pops gave me life. And they made sure I was ready for the world. They made me a fighter by first fighting for me, then teaching me how to fight. They sent me to Boston College High School, where I learned alongside smart young men from prestigious families. Even though I walked in the halls with future princes of power, I never forgot where I came from.

I come from a long line of fighters. My grandfather, Lionel Brunswick was half black and half white, of Irish and Haitian stock. He moved to the United States from the island of Haiti at the age of twenty and endured all manners of hell simply because of his dual heritage, yet still managed to become one of the best accountants the city of Boston had ever seen. My grandmother, Maria Corrello moved to the United States from Puerto Rico when she was twenty three. She moved in with my grandfather shortly after they met in Boston in 1946. My father was born on the first day of February 1948. He married my mother in Spring 1978. I was born at Boston Hospital on February 5, 1986.

There were some difficulties with my birth. I almost didn't make it. Fortunately, I did. I've been a fighter since birth. As was the custom in my family, I was left whole and unmodified. The way all men would be if ignorance, superstition and mindless traditionalism hadn't taken over the world. My parents and grandparents didn't believe in circumcising their sons. We are staunchly opposed to any and all surgeries except maybe to save a life. Medical frivolities aren't something we partake in. That's just the way we see things in my family. Later, as I started dating, I found out I was a novelty to some American women, but I didn't see it as a problem. If they liked me, cool. If not, they could get to stepping. My last girlfriend Ivana Dos Santos was Brazilian, and where she's from most men are uncut. So, we were okay. We split amicably. She had to return to Brazil to run her father's shipping business after he passed away. I understood why she had to leave. Family first. Duty must be embraced. Always. That's the kind of man I was raised to be. I wished Ivana well on her journey.

I must say that I missed her sorely. A five-foot-ten, bronze-skinned, black-haired and green-eyed, very sexy and voluptuous Brazilian princess. She had it all. Pretty face. Curvy body. Big, round booty. Yeah. My woman was fine as hell. When we met, she was a business administration student at Suffolk University and I was in my first year of law school. She was smart, friendly, and also quite unusual. I didn't know many women who felt, or thought, like she did. Take this for example. Ivana and I are sitting on the couch in my dorm, watching TV and the movie Waiting to Exhale comes on. If there is a worse portrayal of black men in motion picture history, I haven't seen it. The gals in that movie do nothing but bash black men in general and blame all of the world's problems on them. Every woman I know, ( with the exception of my mother and grandmother) seem to agree that this movie is right-on.

Ivana watches the movie and she tells me she thinks the gals in it are a bunch of lazy, oversexed slobs. She thinks they should fix themselves and take some responsibility for what's going on in their lives rather than blame all of their problems on black men. My thoughts exactly! Ivana and I agreed on this, and so many other things. We were both considered unusual, at least by our families and communities. I love ice hockey. And I actually played in high school. I don't much care for NCAA or professional football, basketball or baseball. To me, ice hockey is far more primal. And ferocious. I love the Boston College men's Ice Hockey team. They're the best in the NCAA Division One in my humble opinion. I also like the Northeastern University Huskies men's Ice Hockey team and a few others. Notably the University of Alaska-Fairbanks men's Ice Hockey squad.

Ivana told me she fell in love with Ice Hockey after she saw the Mighty Ducks trilogy when she was younger. When she attended Milton Academy, she used to play on the men's varsity Ice Hockey squad. I found that fascinating. We both loved disco dancing, and walking through Boston Common at night. We even had the same taste in movies. To date, Ivana is the only female I know who likes Starship Troopers and the Terminator trilogy as much as I did. And we were passionate about college sports. We were among the national cabal of students who launched vigorous protests when James Madison University did away with most of their male sports teams in the name of Title IX. And we applauded Seton Hill University's female president when she added football to her school's athletic department in a triumphant effort to boost male enrollment. Ivana was the woman of my dreams. When she left because of the call of duty, I was devastated.

Whoever wrote the song "Ain't No Sunshine When She's Gone" probably had me and Ivana in mind. After she left, I was restless. And I buried myself in class work to dull the pain. We still talked on the phone three to six times a week. Unfortunately, you know how long-distance relationships work. They don't. In the end, we decided to remain friends since life had pulled us in different directions. I tried dating a few other gals but none of them lit my fire. I tried them all. Tall. Short. Skinny. Chubby. Black. White. Asian. Latin. Middle-Eastern. Single. Married. Divorced. Athlete. Professional. Housewife. None of them did it for me. I wanted something these women simply didn't have. And I think they knew it.

Where could I get a sexy tomboy who loves contact sports, and doesn't hate men, sees both sides of social issues as opposed to automatically playing along gender lines, and has a strong individualistic mindset, along with a killer body? Yeah, it's what I thought. I couldn't replace Ivana Dos Santos. None of the women I met could hold a candle to her. The other gals simply didn't do anything for me. Damn. That sucked. Big-time. Slowly, it dawned on me that I just might be doomed to walk through life alone. So I poured my energies into fighting for my fellow man. And righteous causes. Rather than relationships. I figured it would keep me busy, you know?

Every man born in twenty-first century America has many strikes against him. We live in an age where male students are minorities on college and university campuses, and athletic opportunities are taken away from them in the name of political correctness gone amok. Also, men are grossly over represented among those incarcerated for various crimes. And countless men have gone down because of gender bias in the criminal justice system. Just try being a father fighting for your rights in family court. Countless young men are butchered 'down below' in the name of religion, and a medical establishment plagued with political correctness. I've heard people say they think circumcision of males prevents AIDs, What a crock! The only way to prevent AIDs is to practice complete abstinence, and not stick needles of any kind into yourself. Uncircumcised men aren't at a greater risk for infections. As long as the man is careful with his health and stays clean, he should be find.

Men's health issues aren't taken seriously by the men and women we call scientists and researchers. Prostate Cancer Research gets pennies for funding and Breast Cancer Research gets billions, and all the television ads and heart-warming races they could ever want. I'd like to think that in a country where someone's always running their mouth about equality, someone would notice this great inequity. Nobody cares. Most men don't notice the gender bias in health care. They've got blinders on. They're blissfully unaware. And most women don't care to change a system that automatically benefits them. Yeah, that's just the way it is.

There are many other inequities between the sexes out there. Male victims of abuse receive no help from either social services or law enforcement, and authorities deny that men ever get victimized. The truth is that men get victimized far more often than women, but women report it more because they know the authorities consider them to be a top priority. It's a good time to be a female in the United States of America. And it's a bad time to be a card-carrying member of the male club. Not much anyone can do about it, really. Not that anyone cares. The gals aren't going to change the rules that benefit them and most men aren't bright enough to figure out they've been duped by the very world they built. Welcome to male life in the twenty-first century. Enjoy it while it lasts, brief and pitiful as it is.

And if you happen to be black AND male, forget about it. Being black is tough. Being male is really tough. Combine the two and you're looking at a very hard and ultimately brief life. The average black male living in America is born into a truly dysfunctional, fatherless home. There are many reasons why the father is gone. Often, he's dead. Or in jail. Sometimes, he just doesn't care. Other times, the mother prevents him from spending time with his son or daughter because she's mad at him for a variety of reasons, real and imagined. There is a culture of man-bashing in America and black women take to it like a cat takes to hunting mice. They're harder on their men than women of any other race, culture or background. It seems that all black women hate black men. They inherited this hatred from their mothers, aunts, grandmothers, sisters and girlfriends. And they pass it onto their daughters. Man-bashing is a sport in mainstream America and a religion in Black America. That's just the way it is.

The average black man grows up listening to his mother rant about how much she hates men, especially those eternally unreliable black men. He ends up hating his father, whom he probably doesn't really know, and himself as well. When he grows up, he starts hanging out with fatherless black males like himself. Shooting hoops. Playing video games. Hanging on the street corner. Chasing females. Smoking. And basically doing whatever it takes to stay the hell away from their crazy mothers. Oh, and they've got to avoid the cops too. The police sees every black male as a potential predator. So they harass these young black men. And mistreat them. And sooner or later, the young black men lash out. Big mistake. That's when they either get shot and killed or hauled away to prison for a long, long time. It's what those white policemen and white policewomen out there want. Lock up all black males. The way they see it, it's a sure way to lower the crime rate.

Oh, silly me. I'm forgetting the black policemen and the black policewomen who patrol our cities. They go harder on black male suspects than most white cops do. They feel that they have to prove something to the white men and white women they work for. They must prove that they are blue rather than black, and the only way to do it is to beat up a black male suspect, guilty or innocent, until he turns blue and starts squirting that red liquid of life. Blood. Sweet blood. That's how you earn your stripes. And no matter what you do, don't cross a black policewoman. She's going to do something to you that's going to make Satan himself blush with envy at her natural-born wickedness. They're the meanest cops around. Black men beware.

For the black male who is fortunate enough to come from a good home, with a decent father who takes care of him and a caring mother who loves her husband and family and doesn't practice man-hating as a form of religion, he might actually have a chance in life. Let's say this young black man worked hard in high school instead of chasing big-booty black, Hispanic, Asian or white chicks with an attitude problem. Let's say he was engrossed in academia and intellectual achievement rather than hanging out with dubious guys who are into shady stuff or being subtly manipulated by his exceptionally conniving girlfriends. Let's say that instead of throwing his life away by becoming a father before his time, he earns himself a chance to go to college and make something of himself. What happens then? Only time will tell.

This young brother enters college. At first glance, he notices that there are far more young women than young men on campus. Also, the female student-athletes in all likelihood have far more sports teams available to them. And they're demanding a lot more, even if that means taking opportunities away from young men who already have less, mainly because they're female and this society fostered onto them a sense of entitlement. They don't want equality of the sexes. True equality would be a step backwards for them. They want domination. At all levels of society. The young brother notices this. He can't stop this because the goddesses of political correctness won't let a mere mortal threaten their plans. He doesn't have to care. Not all black college men are student-athletes. Some of us are academia-loving geeks.

So, this young brother busies himself studying. He studies hard. And he really has to be careful out there. There are guys and chicks on campus who are into shady things. Drugs. Fights. Orgies. Hard parties. Illegal gambling. You name it, they got it. Also, there are some chicks on campus who are nothing but trouble. They flirt with the young college men all day and scream harassment at the first guy who flirts back. And there's also the ever-popular saga of the college chick who falsely accuses a black male student of sexual assault. She loves the media attention. Women's groups will automatically side with her. She gets to play victim and maybe even appear on television. She's having a good time while destroying someone's life. When it comes to females on campus, hello and goodbye is all you should say to them. And avoid being alone with the shady ones. It's like they're out there trying to set up a brother. Or maybe it's what they're taught in Manipulation 101. So, it's recommended that the young brother ignore them. He should find himself a sexy magazine, or get a high-speed computer with internet access in a room with privacy instead.

Most young college women aren't looking for a decent young man while they're in college. Trust me, I know. They prefer gangsters and thugs. Hell, some of them prefer other women. Black college women don't date black college men. They prefer thugs, rappers, gangsters, and the guys who have that bad guy persona. It gets them all hot and bothered in funny places. Supposedly, bad guys are better in bed than good guys. Where these gals get their facts, I'll never know. Decent, hard-working, smart black men don't do it for them. Of course, these are the same young black college women who scream "sellout" at the first black college man they see talking to a young college woman who's either Asian, Hispanic, Middle-Eastern or Caucasian. If the black male dates someone who's not black, the black ladies step up the hate. They feel that they can date men of any race they choose, but the black man who dates outside his race is a traitor who must be ostracized, and shunned. Talk about a double standard.

The young brother in the higher education system must learn to avoid the shady guys and deceitful chicks who make up the population of every college and university in the United States of America. When young white men or young white women make certain mistakes on campus, whether it's drinking, partying too hard, or getting into a scuffle, campus administrators are far more forgiving of them than they are of a young black male who does the same thing. They're basically just looking for an excuse to toss out any male student, and they're really not fond of black male students. So, when they toss out a black male student for any reason, they feel as though they're killing two birds with one stone. They can't go after black women the way they go after black men because gender is a far greater protection than race for any female in the western world. That's the truth. Someone's got to say it.

The young brother in higher education has to know that campus life is a mine field. Say the wrong thing and the political correctness crowd is ready to lynch you like the Ku Klux Klan. Also, some young black men come to campus thinking that black male and black female students, along with black faculty members might be more sympathetic to them. That is such a lie. Blacks in higher education excel at destroying their own as they compete for jobs, prestige and resources. It's just the way the game is played. The young black man who is determined to succeed in college must realize that he is, and always will be, alone in his quest. Many individuals, male and female, black and white, straight and gay, secretly want him to fail. The world hates the black male. Get it through your head.

On any coeducational college campus, a young man will encounter that woman who blames all of humanity's problems on men. In her mind, women have never committed crimes, or lied, or deceived. There are no abusive women who beat their husbands, boyfriends and sons. There are no female serial killers who kill for pleasure. There are no violent women in prison. There are no female gangs plaguing our cities. The inhuman way in which humans treat each other is an exclusively male phenomenon in her eyes. Could somebody please rent the infamous Mean Girls DVD and throw it at this idealistic fool? Maybe then she'll see that men cannot hold a candle to women when it comes to the destruction of a person by subtle means. Man-bashers are frighteningly common on college campuses. They've acquired a lot of power in higher education over the past four decades. A smart man must learn to identify them, and their disciples. The young women who worship these man-hating ladies and believe their every word as gospel. Only a foolish man befriends or dates such a gal. He's just asking for trouble. Sooner or later, she'll turn on him and he will have only himself to blame. The weak deserve their fate.

The strong brother is he who stands alone. Other men are weak. They cannot be trusted. As for the ladies, well, he'll soon get the idea. In the end, we're alone in this world. It's a harsh, violent, unfair and vicious world. One that many of us secretly wish would cease to exist someday soon. Unfortunately, humanity goes on. And men and women continue in their ways. Humanity's inhumanity to its own goes on. Someday, when the entire human race is extinct, the universe shall know peace.

Until then, we must go on. I wish the best of luck to the young brother starting his journey in higher education. I did it. Soon, I'll get my law degree, then I'll take the bar exam. I know I'll make it. I can see myself working for one of the big firms downtown. More than one has shown interest in me. Especially since I did such a stellar job at my school's law review. Someday, I want to have my own firm. I want to fight for my fellow man. Fathers who are fighting for custody in the gender-biased family courts. Young men who are falsely accused of physical abuse by their unscrupulous girlfriends. Gay and bisexual men who are targeted simply because of who they are by those homophobic men and homophobic women who revile them. And last but not least, the not-so-uncommon male victim of mistreatment in interpersonal relationships. These are the people I must help. It's going to be a tough job. But someone's got to do it. Be glad I'm on your side. Peace.