There is a war

... going on outside.

It's the world against black love. Our relationships are tested and tried every day by the lack of infrastructure in our communities, the shortage of healthy eating options in our neighborhoods, the misogynistic lyrics and images portrayed by our cultural "figureheads", failing stock in black family planning, the loss of our African collective intelligence...

More specifically:

We drive past a backwards, and upside down "rallod ylimaf" sign every day, for a year. The "Family" in the prominent medical practice sign has always had a few letters out.

A man was bashed in the head with a bottle... from behind... while holding his girls hand... by black teens. They were in love in the hood and had been seen happy one too many times.

People who know that FairLady and FairSir are happily in love insist, to our faces, that we look like brother and sister and not lovers.

Loose-lipped people doubt the relationship, and then the proposal, and then the wedding, and then the baby on the way. Yet they smile, tight-lipped with champagne, at all the celebrations.

It feels like an attack. An ongoing, covert, and vicious attack.

Welcome to our personal counterattack.