After sharing this post of my family,
I received messages saying our love is wrong, our children should not exist, and that harm toward us is inevitable. That is racism. It does not need softer language. It does not need to be explained away. It needs to be named.
Black History Month is not a moment for surface level reflection. It is a reminder that the work is ongoing. At home. In schools . In community. In the stories we tell our children and the silence we choose or refuse.
Our family is proud. We celebrate Black excellence. We honour our heritage, and feel so grateful for the generations who fought so our children could exist.













































































