Chapter 1Louis
I didn’t fit in anywhere. For one thing, being Haitian, I looked different from the African-Americans in my school. And I got ragged on a lot because of my French-sounding name. I was big enough to play sports, and I worked out, so I was in good shape. What my brothers didn’t know was that I wanted to look good because I was gay. But except for Phys Ed, I just didn’t do sports. I took all the art classes Stafford High had to offer. I was okay or a little better in watercolors and oils, but I was most interested in photography. My photography teacher, Mr. Blount, assured me that I had a good eye and real talent as a photographer. Soon, though, the other Black guys decided that I was not a jock and not like them and pretty much ignored me. Occasionally I was taunted by being
