At some point I was no longer a writer. I had, somehow, become a black writer. This perplexed me, considering the halcyon 80’s, where Marvel was a hotbed of scathing, litigiously un-PC sexism and racism (reference: Rescue Me’s potty-mouthed fire house), I was never seen as a “black” writer. I competed with everybody else, with guys who had much more experience than I, and did the grunt work and odd jobs just like anybody else.
Nobody at DC hired me to reboot Green Lantern in Emerald Dawn because I was a black guy, and Fabian Nicieza seemed to not notice or care about my skin color when he approached me to dream up a Power Man/ Iron Fist-esque buddy book for his startup imprint Acclaim.
Pre-Milestone, the subject just didn’ t come up. Somewhere along the way, Marvel became much more PC and I became inexplicably much blacker.