Paradise On Earth
- 3 years ago
- 17
- 0
Black Paradise On Earth free porn video
My name is Jennifer Saint Hill. Just a tall, voluptuous young black woman living in the city of Boston, Massachusetts. I write this because I want to give thanks. I’m thankful for what I’ve got. The Good Lord gave me intelligent, health and good looks. He also gave me a wonderful family. I am grateful for my father, Franklin Saint Hill. He’s a stocky black man who works as a police sergeant in Boston. My mother Elise is a guiding light in my life. A fine complement to my father’s discipline and good will. She’s a business teacher at Newton College in the town of Newton. My brother Lawrence is a junior at Massachusetts Maritime Academy. He wants to be an officer someday. I wish him the best. We live in a nice house in Milton.
Last year, I enrolled at Ashton College as a freshman. It was like no other place on Earth. A small, four-year, historically black college located in downtown Boston. I felt right at home there. After attending an all-white, female prep school, I wanted to be around intelligent young men. And that’s exactly what I found at Ashton College. The place was simply wonderful. The school has five thousand students, and only one campus. Sixty percent of the student body is of African-American descent. What pleased me to no end is the fact that Ashton College was packed full of guys. Fifty three percent of the student body was male, in fact. This ought to be fun.
When I was in high school, I played various sports, from soccer to field hockey and basketball. I was pleased to discover that athleticism mattered a great deal at Ashton College. The Department of Athletics sponsored Men’s varsity Baseball, Basketball, Tennis, Rifle, Cross Country, Soccer, Rugby, Gymnastics, Rowing, Swimming, Ice Hockey, Water Polo, Volleyball, Golf, Wrestling, Lacrosse and Football along with Women’s varsity Softball, Basketball, Cross Country, Rowing, Water Polo, Soccer, Swimming, Gymnastics, Field Hockey, Ice Hockey, Tennis, Volleyball, Golf, Equestrian, Lacrosse and Rugby. All the sports compete in the NCAA Division Three.
I must say I was impressed. Most colleges and universities in New England aren’t as competitive. I decided to try out for the Women’s Rugby team. I’ve always been fascinated by rugby. Ever since my parents took me on a vacation trip to Northern England. I made lots of friends on the team. Most of the players were white but there were two or three black women among them. Rugby is a fierce sport. Strength and speed along with technique are needed. It’s not just football without a helmet. The first game we played was against gals from Vermont Tech. We beat them by a landslide. It felt great.
I was really enjoying myself at Ashton College. My teachers were a talented and easygoing bunch. Everybody was really nice. The dorm in which I lived was a fun place. It got a bit loud and since it was packed with girls, it got catty at times but I didn’t let that bother me. I’m an expert when it comes to avoiding people’s little dramas. I believe that life is best lived drama-free. And I challenge anyone to prove me wrong. I was doing well in all my classes. And the women’s rugby team was doing great. Something was missing, however. The Ashton College campus was filled with couples. Young men and women I saw walking around, holding hands. Everyone was pairing up left and right.
My team captain and best friend, Lorelei Sanchez, a big and tall Latina, started going out with Derek Shore, a tall, blond-haired white guy from the men’s baseball team. I didn’t see that one coming, folks. Lorelei is a really butch chick and I seriously thought she swung the other way but when I caught her on top of Derek one night in the laundry room, I had to revise my opinions of her sexual orientation. My roommate Cecilia, a perky blonde and the whitest woman I’d ever met, started going out with Anderson, a tall black guy from the men’s soccer team. I was happy for them, really. I just wish someone would notice me. Sadly, it seemed that I was invisible.
I attended an all-female school for most of my life so I wasn’t very good at talking or flirting with guys. The other chicks on campus made it seem so easy. For me, it didn’t come natural. Besides, I felt self-conscious. Most guys didn’t seem drawn to a six-foot, heavyset young black woman who was sweaty half the time from playing rugby or working out at the gym.
Lots of other young black women on campus had my dilemma. They were pretty, and talented, but didn’t seem to be attracting the young black men. Most of them, especially the athletes, seemed to desire only white or Latin women. I’m not hating on them. You go with whoever makes you happy, you know? Life is too short to focus on color when looking for love. When I asked a young black man named Patterson about that, he had some strange things to tell me. He told me that most of the young black guys on campus thought the young black women were mean and downright hostile to black males in general. That’s why most of them dated outside the race. I was stunned. Patterson shrugged. He was just being honest.
When I returned to my dorm that Friday night, alone as usual, I had some thinking to do. So, that was the state of the affairs between black college men and black college women. We saw each other as rivals and enemies rather than potential friends or lovers. Why was that? Unlike most sisters who will start enumerating the myriad faults of black men, I thought there were reasons on both sides why we weren’t getting along. Somewhere along the past four decades, black men and black women began to distrust, and hate each other. Our communities were rife with conflict. We cheated on each other. We abused each other. We betrayed and manipulated each other. We denigrated each other. We betrayed ourselves.
Many young black women grew up hearing their mothers, aunts and sisters stories about the worthlessness of black men. And many black men grew up hearing black women calling all black men worthless and untrustworthy. Many of these young black men were decent. Some were bad but not all. Regardless, all of them were blamed for the actions of those who came before them. So they learned to distrust black women. They sought love, happiness and acceptance in the arms of women of other races. Especially white women. That is such a sad state of the affairs.
Here we were, young black men and young black women enrolled at a private, historically black college which was prestigious and wealthy. And we still couldn’t get past our differences. I know plenty of black women out there have been hurt by black men. But plenty of black men have been hurt by black women as well. It’s a human thing. It’s not a racial or gender thing. Men and women of all races need to start showing respect and trust for one another. That’s the only way the human race can progress.
I thought of all the fine black people I had known. My father and mother. My beloved older brother. We are a black family that loved one another. My father respects my mother. And my mother respects my father. My brother and I respect and love our parents. We grew up loved, supported and valued. So I know that black men and black women can get together, work hard, form families, and make it work. It’s difficult, not impossible. Black men aren’t predators. Black women aren’t victims. Black sons and black daughters aren’t unwanted progeny. We are human beings in need of love and respect. I know we can make it happen.
Look how far we’ve come. My father is a leader in his police precinct. My mother is a dean at her college. My brother will be an officer in the armed forces one day. And I’m getting my business degree in a few years before taking on the corporate world. I live in a state where the governor is a talented, charismatic and benevolent black man. I live in a town where some of the wealthiest neighborhoods are black neighborhoods. I live in a century where a black man will soon become president of the world’s most powerful country. I attend a historically black college filled with good
-looking, intelligent and talented young black men and black women. So I know we black folks can have our paradise. We can have it all. We just need to work together. Stop hating each other. Stop betraying each other. We need to stop focusing on racial and gender issues and focus instead on seeing each other as human beings first.
So, as I lie in my bed this Friday night, I hope and pray that someday I’m going to meet my black prince. He doesn’t have to be perfect. Just decent. And I want him to love me as fiercely as I will love him. He will be my lion and I his lioness. We will stand together, showing a united front to the dangers found in this dreary world. Yes, someday I will meet him. For this I pray. Amen.
Latisha
- 21.08.2022
- 33
- 0
