So far, I have twice described the lives of a black man and how things changed for the worse. However, it does not always go like this for a person of color; the previous two men have had the worst of luck imaginable, but it can be different.

Not all people belonging to a minority just lower their heads and go about their daily lives with caution and care. Some of them actively seek out violence and are not afraid to speak their minds. Others are crazy enough to don a mask and a costume, to call themselves a vigilante with a cool codename and take to the streets. They actively paint a bullseye on their back, provide target practice for cops and New Reich soldiers and generally thwart the day-to-day business of the New Reich.

There was one man in particular who pestered the Reich like this. he was a good man, a protector of the weak and, in his last moments, he stood up for them even as he lay down. The Führer stood over him, his bow drawn back to fire those last arrows. Many know him as James, but this is the story of how he came to be the Guardian.

James Olsen, as he was known as, had a relatively good childhood. His father was an outspoken person and vocal opponent of the New Reich. He never said it into anyone's face who didn't need to know, but inside his house, he talked loudly about his distaste towards the Reich.

Little Jimmy Olsen picked up all those ideas from his father. He was a good kid and anyone who knew him would say he was a nice person. But even at that age, if someone dared to cross him or tried to push an opinion onto him, he always said or did something about it. Unlike his father, he never got the lesson to keep the divergent opinions to himself. Hardly anyone could blame him – he was a ten-year-old who didn't know better and thought it was okay to loudly proclaim the Reich was the worst. The problem was that his father encouraged him to have these thoughts instead of complying to the oppressive regime. The message to be careful with those thoughts and opinions was never made clear.

Things changed for the worse as he grew older and became a teenager. Their family wasn't that wealthy, to begin with. When his mother fell ill, they did not have the money to both survive and heal their mother. Medicine was expensive and his mother preferred to die than to see her son starve to buy her what she needed. She passed quickly, and Jimmy and his father were glad the illness hadn't been transmitted to them.

Not much later, his father was taken away from him as well. People had heard Jimmy say those things you shouldn't say out loud and reported him. They did not send him to a prison camp, for the sole reason that people knew (through Jimmy) that his father didn't exactly punish him for saying and thinking these things. He was still a teenager – his thoughts were still malleable. They took away his father and attempted to condition Jimmy into adopting a more acceptable opinion.

Jimmy never went to school again. He ran and focused on staying alive. As a fourteen-year-old, this wasn't very easy. Especially not because of the everyday racism that had only grown because of his status as a homeless and his skin color. During one of his journeys downtown, he found a friend, Gareth, who was living off of the street, too. He brought Jimmy to a big group of people from all walks of life who were also trying to survive. They accepted Jimmy into the group, and from then on, he stopped using the nickname 'Jimmy'. It was the end of an era, so it felt appropriate.

His new family provided for him and he provided for them. They were scavengers who didn't have a lot of money and who made their home in the abandoned hangar at the edge of the city. Life went by from day to day and year to year. For the longest time, James could not tell whether it was Tuesday or Thursday without seeing it in a newspaper. They didn't have a calendar to mark the passing of the days; they only had one clock that was sort of correct, maybe off by an hour at most.

James and the kid who brought him in, Gareth, grew up with him. They were like brothers. Many times, they had bailed each other out of the police station. Whenever they went out on the streets, they knew they had each other's back. While James was the brute force, Gareth was smaller and more nimble than James could ever be. One day, James and Gareth went deep into the city. Gareth was rather reckless and decided to do something bold. James initially cheered him on but later changed his mind about it. Still, he wasn't able to stop his friend when an idea popped up in his head.

The cops were quick and ruthless. As soon as they saw Gareth go straight for the Queen property with weapons, they did not hesitate and shot him dead. This was before Oliver Queen became the Führer, but the family was already famous enough for Gareth to try to break in there. It had turned into a suicide mission and after witnessing his death from a hiding spot, James turned and ran.

He only returned home to tell the others about Gareth's fate. James then left for the last time and permanently moved into the city as one of the resident homeless people. Without Gareth, it did not feel right to stay there anymore.

While in the city, James concluded that today's society contributed to the poverty of minorities and lower class people. Born into poverty meant you could not afford to be more wealthy, and the already wealthy grew more wealthy. Today's society incriminated anyone who wanted to rise above the class they had been so unluckily born into and James wanted to do something about it.

Of course, it would be difficult for someone like him to eradicate poverty. So he did the next best thing: protect the vulnerable and poorest layer of society from police brutality and other instances of authorities abusing their powers.

James Olsen became the Guardian overnight. He raided an old New Reich facility to find some body armor to protect himself – he wasn't going to just throw himself into a fight without protection – and even found a nice shield he could use. With some spray-paint he found in the facility as well, he painted an old design of the American flag on the shield. Not many people would know the flag or what it used to stand for, but James knew. He remembered this from his father's stories about an America that was no New Reich, about an America that stood for everything this Reich was not.

With his costume ready, James was ready to take to the streets as the Guardian. However, his vigilante career started in a rough way. That is, he did not really have anything to do at all. He did not know where the cops were going to be or on which street corner he could find crime, and he didn't just want to pick fights with the cops. It would only prove the point that vigilantes were dangerous rebels, however hypocritical that may sound coming from an organization that literally wanted the public to cheer on the 'approved vigilante squad', a.k.a. the New Reichsmen. Then again, it is the New Reich and they encouraged their people not to overthink things.

So, for a long time, James had no work as a vigilante at all. He did look for trouble but more often than not, trouble found him. It presented itself as a couple of cops going into the alley and figuring the man in the crazy costume must be a vigilante and therefore must be stopped, though they were never certain who he was.

"I'm the Guardian," he told them, though he wasn't exactly guarding anyone. Surprisingly enough, he always managed to defeat them. this was a result of the cops being ill-equipped to deal with vigilantes in person – that was the job of A.R.G.U.S. and the New Reichsmen – so he still managed to win whenever he found himself in a fight with them.

The police decided to keep a file on this mysterious Guardian that had popped up out of nowhere. It just so happened that when the police had a file on a vigilante, the Freedom Fighters marked this vigilante as a person of interest. Rebels aren't just found in the field. There were second and even third-generation rebels in the base and very few people decided to join them without having any previous ties to any rebels whatsoever. The persons of interest were a good source of recruitment. They did not need to stick around the base; they could still operate independently from the Freedom Fighters, but when the General asked for help, they were supposed to answer that call.

Late one evening, James was wearing his suit and hanging around an alley where he'd been before. He was convinced something was going to happen there that night – something that would prove his worth as a vigilante without having to confront law enforcement.

"Guardian." James turned around, his shield up and his body in a defensive stance. He hadn't been taken by surprise before then and expected a hail of bullets to fly over him.

But there were no bullets. James slowly lowered his shield so he could see who was calling his name. It was not the cops or even a group of people. It was a young man with stubble and a harsh look in his eyes. Everything about his appearance screamed military and the Guardian did not take this knowledge for granted. This confrontation could still go south.

"Who the hell are you?" James asked the man.

"The general," he responded. The Guardian shook his head once.

"I'm pretty sure she's an alien."

"Not that one," the man said and he took a couple of steps closer towards the vigilante. "I've come to strike a deal. One-time offer."

"And what's that?" The Guardian eyed the man – this 'general' – suspiciously. He did not lower his shield.

"We can train you," the general said. "Make you better, give you better equipment."

"And the catch?"

"You come work for us." The man may have paused for dramatic tension, but one can never know for sure. "The Freedom Fighters."

Just like that, James' worries concerning this mystery general melted like snow in the sun. That was all he had needed to say in the first place if he'd wanted to convince James.

"Deal."

James spent the next few months at the Freedom Fighters base and trained to be a better fighter. He got to know many members that survived long enough, such as Leonard Snart and Ray Terrill. He trained with them, as a sort of substitute for training against the New Reichsmen. When he had become a proficient fighter, he did not return to his favorite alleys. He stayed with them and helped them out, growing closer to these people than he ever imagined possible. He found a caring family again, all united by the one cause of taking down the New Reich's regime. He was happy to help and slowly defeated the New Reich alongside his friends, his partners in crime, whenever he had the chance.

James' last mission was in late 2017. The Freedom Fighters had nearly finished a project that would make it easier to bring refugees to the different Earths they knew existed, and they could go ask for help on the other Earths as well if those heroes weren't too busy. They had a lot of soldiers on the ground, all previously vigilantes or Freedom Fighters-related rebels, present to guard the hangar. The Guardian was there as well.

The Führer came to take care of this situation. His rigorous training and his inability to hold back even the slightest bit resulted in a one-sided massacre. Nobody could get a hit on him while the Dark Arrow killed everyone who guarded the hangar. The Guardian was the last man standing, bravely fighting Mr. Queen, but he ultimately failed to make it back alive. He could not prevent the inter-dimensional portal to be used by the New Reich for nefarious purposes.

Many people I know believe minorities rarely stand up for themselves. It's ingrained in their being through violence that standing up for themselves results in torture and death. I would like to present those people this particular tale of an unusual vigilante, a true hero of the people. James Olsen was so much more than a homeless guy. He was a guardian who saved many lives and paid the ultimate price.