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The World According To Men

The name is Richard Raymond. Friends call me Dick. And I absolutely live up to the name. In just about every way. At first glance, I seem like any regular Joe in the big city. Standing six feet six inches tall, somewhat heavyset but still solid, with dark brown skin and short hair. Just a big and tall, well-dressed and clean-shaven black man strolling down the street. I am thirty six years old, and hold a bachelors degree in Criminal Justice from Boston University. I also hold a Master's of science degree in Criminal Justice from Suffolk University. I used to work for the Boston Police Department as a patrol officer. I stopped working in the field of law enforcement because I saw too much. Too many men and women with guns, doing terrible things to their fellow human beings. I walked away from it all. That was three years ago.

These days, I teach at the Samson College of Criminal Justice in downtown Boston. It's a school which focuses on the study of criminal justice, fire science and other public service related fields. I enjoy being a professor there. I am also the advisor of some at-risk students at the Men's Center. Recently, Samson College decided to do for its young men what it has been doing for its young women for decades at the campus Women's Resource Center. Offer them academic support and free counseling when needed. If you ask me, it's about bloody time.

My good friend, Samson College Athletic Director Leroy Brownstone is a cool cat. We've known each other since our days as football players at Boston University. Back then, we were a couple of tall, lean brothers playing college football and having fun. We were on top of the world. Those were the days, folks. Back when Boston University had a Division One football team. Leroy was one year behind me and at one time, I dated his older sister Veronique. It nearly caused a rift between us but we got over it. Veronique was a tall, fine-looking sister with a cute face and the big booty from hell. Pardon my French. We had fun together, but that's all it was. In the end, we both wanted different things. These days, Veronique is married to a software developer and lives in Rhode Island. What I liked about my buddy was his open mind and keen awareness of how things are and how they could be improved. He's always been a force for change for as long as I've known him.

Leroy has recently introduced football to Samson College. It was part of an effort to boost male enrollment. I thought it worked. Samson College is forty nine percent male these days, better than it's been in years. This was reflected in the athletic department too. Currently, we field men's and women's Basketball, men's and women's Ice Hockey, men's and women's Gymnastics, men's Fencing, women's Volleyball, men's and women's Soccer, men's and women's Swimming, men's Football, men's Baseball, women's Softball, men's and women's Track & Field, men's and women's Bowling and women's Equestrian. We compete in the NCAA Division Two.

Anyway, back on topic. Leroy sent me this young man named Jordan Simmons. A big and tall young black man who recently transferred to our school from Elmira College in New York. He was a hothead, I could tell by the looks of him. Leroy was a recent addition to the Men's Track & Field team. He'd gotten into a scuffle with a teammate and due to complaints from the coach, he was in danger of being cut from the team. This would make his athletic scholarship vanish and he might be forced to drop out. If he continued to be a problem. Leroy sent him to me because he thought this young man might be salvageable.

The first time Jordan came to my office, he spent a few minutes cracking his knuckles as I talked to him. He appeared to look virtually everywhere else as I told him why he was where he was. When I finished, he stared at me blankly and said I was the most long-winded speaker he'd seen in ages. I stared at him, somewhat surprised. This young brother had quite a mouth on him! I smiled, crossed my arms and simply looked at him. Jordan looked at me for a long time without saying anything. After about two minutes, he broke into a wide grin. I shook my head. Oh, he was something alright. A tough nut to crack. Not the sort of man who would let anyone walk all over him. He was an Alpha through and true. Just like me.

This was the first of many meetings between the two of us. Initially, we just spent time talking. We talked about everything from college sports to politics and the state of the affairs in black America. Jordan seemed to have a good grip on the grim reality of what was happening in America. The economy was down. People were going crazy. Businesses were failing. Despair reigned everywhere. Yet even in that darkness, there was light. Jordan's words, not mine. When I asked him what he meant by that, he told me that he felt thrilled to be living in today's world. A world where a black man was President of the United States, a black woman was Mayor of Atlanta, a black man was Governor of Massachusetts and a black man was Governor of New York. Black men and black women had come a long way. Yet we still had a long way to go. Jordan had strong opinions about that. He felt that the black community ought to unite. Send more black men and black women to college instead of prison. He was quite emotional during this sharing session.

I smiled, looking at this brilliant, and quite misunderstood young brother. Jordan was an okay guy when you got to know him. Seriously. Like many young black men, he felt that the world was hostile to him. Not just white men and white women but his fellow African-Americans as well. Such is the experience of the black male in America. Jordan was a smart guy from a fairly interesting background. His father, Luther Simmons, was a state trooper back in New York. His mother Beatrice Jamestown Simmons was a schoolteacher. From what Jordan told me, Beatrice was not exactly mommy dearest. She was a mean-spirited gal who mistreated her husband and her son. It eventually led to the breakup of a family. Jordan's father divorced her a few months before he graduated high school. Jordan didn't like living with his mother. He left as soon as he could. Elmira College proved to be his escape. He'd been accepted there on a full academic scholarship. For a time, things were looking up for the young brother. Until she tracked him down. That's when everything started to go wrong. So, Jordan Simmons transferred to a school in the state of Massachusetts. The last place anyone would think to look for him.

I looked at Jordan sympathetically. I knew all about relationships with abusive women. I almost married one, once. A charming African-American sociopath by the name of Alexandra Fitzgerald. She was a rookie cop I met during my last year at the Boston Police Department. We had a whirlwind romance. Even got engaged. Yeah, she seemed like she was really something. Good-looking, smart and extremely good at reading people. I thought I had found a kindred spirit. Unfortunately, she was pure evil. The gal had no conscience whatsoever. We broke up three days before what would have been our wedding day. Last I heard, she was placed on suspension for using excessive force during an interrogation. Yeah, she was that bad. So believe me when I tell you that I sympathize with Jordan and what he's been through.

Jordan looked so sad after telling me the story of how his mother mistreated, manipulated and reviled him. That woman was a monster. He was right to get away from her. If he didn't, she might have destroyed his life. I gently touched Jordan's shoulder, and told him that I understood. I too had been in a relationship with an abusive woman. People like us, male victims of interpersonal relationship abuse, weren't as uncommon as most people might think. I promised Jordan that my door would always be open for him. Anytime. I would be there for him no matter what. I gave him my email and cell phone number. He could contact me anytime, anywhere. He seemed surprised by this. I smiled, and told him that us big brothers should support the younger ones. He smiled, and nodded gravely. We shook hands, and he left my office. I smiled as I watched him go. He's a very promising young man. Smart, funny, with great potential. I can't think Leroy enough for getting me appointed as Director of the Samson College Men's Center. It was what I was meant to do. To protect, mentor and guide young college men and help them in their journey toward the future.

Modern men like ourselves shouldn't always play things close to the chest. We should speak up about what we go through, what is done to us, and what we've done. Those who hate us know we tend to keep things inside and they're counting on us to shield them and their evil deeds from exposure because we don't want to appear weak. Well, not anymore. Today this ends. We men will start speaking up about what we go through and doing something about the things which commonly plague us.

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