When Ariel Fristoe and her family moved into the Historic King District in downtown Atlanta, she had no idea how segregated her world was.

The Agnostic child of theater parents, she grew up around and regularly interacted with people from different backgrounds. However, her engagement in investigating and identifying systemic racism and inequality was few and far between. She never had to think much about what was happening with her neighbors.

"My home base has been Charis my entire life."

That is not hyperbole. Since he was 15, ER Anderson has taken up space at the beloved bookstore.

His mother introduced him to Charis. A licensed therapist, she was acutely aware that her child was struggling. He had not yet identified as transgender, but his mother discerned her child needed an outlet.

Growing up in Rome, Georgia, and raised by a United Methodist Church minister, Lama Rod Owens always understood the importance of service and community.

Josh Penny has always been more motivated when seeing how something impacts another person versus how it affects him.

"It's something my therapist has been trying to get me to work on," he said.

In his role as director of social impact for Hinge, he is responsible for figuring out how to help users connect with others. His role is to help users form healthy relationships by providing them with the habits and skills needed to do so.

The more Sophia Hussen, MD, MPH learned about HIV, the more she felt compelled to provide care, support, and understanding about those living with the disease.

An associate professor in the Rollins School of Public Health at Emory University, she doesn't just spin her wheels in the academy's ivory tower. She mixes advocacy with activism, pairing her commitment to research with her practice as a physician in the HIV Clinic at Grady Memorial Hospital.

DeMicha Luster's community organizing work began unexpectedly.

"I was doing some work for a local non-profit when someone asked me why they hadn't seen me at any of the NPU [Neighborhood Planning Unit] or civic association meetings," she said. "I took the hint and started attending."

Eventually, people noticed she was the only person under 30 attending the meetings. That made her the ideal candidate to organize a potential field trip.

"Someone donated passes to Six Flags, and so, it was suggested that I take 35 kids from the community," she added.

All she had to do was figure out how to get the kids there. And, of course, get their parents' permission.

Anyone raised in Atlanta understands, to some extent, the magnitude of such a task. First, she had to find the kids willing to go. That's not too hard. For many kids, taking a trip to Six Flags is a treat. But funding and transportation for kids of a certain age and socio-economic background can be challenging. Then there is another issue altogether – trust. Many of the kids didn't know her or their parents. Even though it's been years since the Atlanta Childhood Murders, the scars are still visible for some. She was a stranger and had some convincing to do.

When my boyfriend, Andre, heard that a new home renovation show was looking for service-oriented men and women impacting their communities, he nominated me for casting. Soon he became a co-conspirator with actress Danielle Brooks (“Orange Is the New Black”), the host of Netflix’s “Instant Dream Home” airing on the streaming platform on August 10.

Andre and Brooks devised a plan to lure me away from my 1930s three-bedroom, three-bathroom bungalow with the help of a team of rapid-fire renovators who transformed my home from top to bottom in just 12 hours. I am honored to be among eight families featured in the series. The show transformed my house into a home. I believe my father, Toye Holmes, is a co-conspirator on this project as well.

My father missed his opportunity to buy a house when I was a little boy in Madison, Wisconsin. His brand new white 1988 two-door Cutlass Supreme, with the spoiler kit and tinted windows, ate up his home buying power. Loan officers frowned upon his debt-to-income ratio. When the bank only offered him $60,000, he said, “Fuck that and them. I ain’t selling my car.” He thought he had more time.

By 1990, my father lost his job at Wisconsin Power and Light, where he was a journeyman. The termination sucker punched my family's finances, causing us to walk on lines just as thin as the lines dad once worked to repair.

The most painful symptom during my two-week bout with monkeypox has been the grim understanding that if this were a different era, and the arrival of a different epidemic, any column or essay I wrote about my experience with the illness might’ve been among my last words.

I grieve thinking of how many of our gay ancestors attended a Sunday kickback like the one I went to a couple of weekends ago, played dominoes and laughed at memories; announced goals and made plans for getaways; attributed the queasiness they felt after the gathering to having drank too much on an empty stomach; went a couple of days expecting their sickness to pass, only for those at the kickback to soon learn that their friend was dead.

My sickness seems to be passing, and I’m operating under the assumption that this current outbreak does not have a 100 percent fatality rate or lifelong consequences. However, as a gay man who came of age in the 1980s and ‘90s, I feel the terror of being in the first wave of an emerging epidemic. I’ve spent my adulthood in the fast lane and have always recognized it could lead to early exposure to previously unknown threats, but it’s sobering when you find yourself in a situation that could’ve led to a fiery crash. Fortunately, it has felt more like getting a flat tire, as my monkeypox infection has been relatively mild.

Judge Ketanji Brown Jackson is officially the newest United States Supreme Court member.

Jackson became the 116th member of the Court Thursday, June 30, at noon, following the official retirement of Justice Stephen Breyer. Her appointment came after tense confirmation hearings in April. With her appointment, confirmation, and swearing-in, Jackson is the first Black woman to sit on the country’s highest court

Judge Greg Mathis Sr. has been a familiar face to television audiences for over two decades, but now it’s his son, Greg Mathis Jr., 33, and his partner Elliott Cooper, 38, who is stepping into the spotlight and challenging stereotypes about Black gay men on the new E! reality series “Mathis Family Matters.”

Takia Canty, 40, is aware that lesbians have a reputation for moving quickly into relationships. She hadn’t dated her then-girlfriend Nastassja Canty, 38, a full month before she was certain that Nastassja would be her wife. To many onlookers, their relationship appeared to be moving at lightning speed, but for the Canty’s, the whirlwind romance that led them down the aisle in an intimate Las Vegas ceremony in June—after being introduced by a mutual acquaintance in 2004—and then losing contact for 17 years, felt like fate.

“It was an underlying attraction between us that we never played on,” said Takia, who tells The Reckoning that both women were in relationships when they initially met but waited until those relationships ended before they explored their mutual attraction.

“And then I kind of slid in her DM, maybe three or four years later. But I was tipsy,” Takia jokingly recalls.

The DM from Takia to Nastassja (pronounced N ah - S t ah - S ee - ah) was short. She simply wrote: “Missing you.”

Corporations jump at the opportunity to capitalize on cultural moments.

This has especially been true with Pride Month over the past few years. Pride Month—recognized in June in honor of the 1969 Stonewall Riots—has become heightened, in some respects, because of the support of corporations like Apple, Nike, and the like. While some members of the LGBTQ community welcome the Pride corporate support, with the addition of Juneteenth as a national holiday, there is a refusal to jump on the corporate support bandwagon for the new federally recognized commemoration.

“I resist it,” said Curtis Lipscomb, LGBT Detroit Executive Director. “My approach on Juneteenth is to use that as an educational moment.

President Joe Biden signed the Juneteenth National Independence Day Act in June 2021. The origins of Juneteenth can be found in Galveston, Texas, where Union soldiers informed enslaved Africans that they were free two years after the signing of the Emancipation Proclamation. During the civil rights movement, Juneteenth began experiencing a sort of resurgence which has continued through Biden’s signed order, declaring it a federal holiday.

From pampers and potties to pimples and proms, anyone who’s raised another human will tell you there are a lot of “Ps” that come along with parenting. Among the most useful “P," many would agree, is a partner—someone to nudge at night for their turn to bottle feed, take on soccer practice duties or handle any of the other million tasks that come with raising a child to adulthood.

And yet for Black gay men, the dearth of marriage-worthy partners has put the dream of a nuclear family far out of reach.

That’s changing.

This spring, millions of men will celebrate Father’s Day as single dads, part of a trend that has exploded over the past few decades. Among them are an increasingly visible number of gay men and male figures, many of them casting aside traditional timelines and methods of creating their family and redefining when and how one should become a parent.

They’re men like Alexander Langford, an Atlanta-based author and baby boomer who, at age 40, felt the importance of raising a Black child in America mattered more than whether he had a mate along for the ride. More than two decades later, adopted son Xee Langford is a thriving musician.

Sandwiched in an alleyway on the northeast side of Washington D.C., Black queer, gay, and lesbian artists like Wayson Jones cultivated fertile ground in a coffeehouse. What they did in the cramped space is the stuff of legends, yet the coffeehouse is long gone—much like the city of old. A documentary recently released online captures what the coffeehouse meant—and continues to mean—to Washington, D.C. as well as to Black and queer histories.

"Fierceness Served! The ENIKAlley Coffeehouse" has been making its rounds at select screenings. The ENIKAlley Coffeehouse was a performance and rehearsal space for a cohort of artists, a gathering spot; plus a meeting place for political organizations. This was almost hallowed ground for Black artists to share and workshop their craft. Jones, Essex Hemphill, Cheryl Clarke, Audre Lorde, Blackberry, Casselberry-Dupree, and Pomo Afro Homos all stepped foot into the former carriage house-turned-coffeehouse between 8th, 9th, I, and K Streets, NE. The space at 816 Eye Street, NE was brick, the size of a large walk-in closet, but had great acoustics.

"The intimacy lent itself to that feeling of being part of the family," Jones said.

The film "Fierceness Served! The ENIKAlley Coffeehouse," celebrates this time.

Dating in Atlanta is serious business. While many singles are swiping left or right on dating apps to find their person, those who can afford to are turning to Atlanta’s elite matchmakers to find love. And Black gay men are no exception.

On “Love Match Atlanta,” the new reality show debuting on Bravo on May 8, viewers are given a look into the professional and personal lives of a group of highly-sought after matchmakers as they use their charm and skill to compete for the hearts and dollars of Black Atlanta’s most eligible singles. The cast includes professional matchmakers and business owners Ming Clark, Joseph Dixon, Kelli Fisher, Tana Gilmore, and Shae Primus.

In a city that has developed a reputation for simultaneously being an oasis of Black wealth and opportunity, and for some Black gay men, a consistent disaapointement where quantity outweighs quality in terms of finding a potential partner, the dating experiences of both gay and straight singles in Atlanta provides more than enough source material for the one-hour show.

For most, intimate partner violence (IPV), historically known as domestic violence, is defined as some form of physical abuse enacted on a woman by a man in their life—usually their husband or boyfriend.

However, there is so much more to the issue that causes many experts to consider IPV an epidemic.

The recent altercations between Grammy award winner Kanye West and social media influencer, Kim Kardashian, in the wake of their divorce proceedings have ignited a new conversation about IPV.

According to Ruth Glenn, president, and CEO of the National Coalition Against Domestic Violence, the events surrounding West and Kardashian highlight the complications of people’s understandings and definitions of IPV, while at the same time shining a light on the contradictions and double standards.

For Black gay filmmaker Micheal Rice, 2020 was a tipping point.

Like the rest of the world, the Brooklyn-based documentarian (“party boi,” “black diamonds in ice castles”) began the first quarter of 2020 avoiding transmission of the coronavirus by isolating himself under strict quarantine guidelines by state and federal officials as COVID-19 cases and deaths in New York City soared. It was a safety precaution implemented to curb the spread of one deadly virus while another continued to rage, leaving Rice and other Black and queer people susceptible to state-sanctioned violence and a never-ending loop of Black trauma on the evening news. Although Rice says he felt powerless at the time, he knew he had to use his artistry to respond. “Black AS U R,” Rice’s new documentary film premiering at Outfest Fusion QTBIPOC Film Festival in April, is his response.

“BLACK AS U R” weaves through the complexities of Black queerness by taking audiences on a journey through the homophobia that penetrates many Black spaces. The film examines the impact of HIV stigma, sex work, suicide, bullying, and acts of violence against Black trans people, including the vicious mob attack of Iyanna Dior at a convenience store in St. Paul, MN only days after the fatal killing of George Floyd in neighboring Minneapolis. The film also features the first time a documentary has highlighted the story of Dominque Rem’mie Fells, a young Black trans woman whose murder reignited the “Black Trans Lives Matter” movement of 2020.

Does it surprise you that the concept of digital currency dates back to the early 1980s and the first digital currency emerged in 1995? I’ve always had a passing knowledge of emerging technologies, but I felt like cryptocurrency snuck up on me. DigiCash, founded in 1994, “set out to create a mechanism for consumers to make ‘micropayments’ for online transactions—such as purchases of individual articles or music singles. Unlike credit cards, which reveal a buyer's identity to vendors, DigiCash's encryption would have made its electronic money as anonymous as cash.” This information blew me away.

Like for many, Bitcoin seemed to come out of nowhere. For me, it was a confusing concept. The idea of a form of digital currency operating outside of a traditional banking system was a lot to wrap my head around. It was something I tried to look away from, but as Bitcoin began to make way for cryptocurrency millionaires, it became harder to ignore.

Monroe Howard-Shackelford, a D.C.-based licensed psychotherapist, is reframing the way Black queer men view their sexuality through a series of “Sacred Sexuality” virtual workshops and a recent in-person presentation at the 2022 NAESM Conference.

Howard-Shackelford says he never heard anti-gay sermons in the church he grew up in, but the message was clear about how society and the traditional Black church felt about LGBTQ+ people. Any romantic relationship or sexual desire that dared to exist outside of the heterosexual binary of traditional marriage was to be demonized. For many Black queer men, the messages received from the pulpit are often in direct conflict with their truth, making it nearly impossible to experience organized religion without harm being inflicted.

For some LGBTQ+ people who are deeply entrenched in the Black church experience, the concept of queer sexuality being sacred can be jarring, if not completely foreign. Sexuality is sacred on its own, and that includes Black queer sexuality, says Howard-Shackelford.

Actor Brandon Black (“Dear White People,” “Insecure”) is aware that his performance in Tyler Perry’s new film “A Madea Homecoming” as the first openly gay character in the history of the 23-year-old franchise is bigger than entertainment.

These men are taking their pleasure into their own hands.

While this reality may not be revolutionary, especially considering the data from one study that suggests 92% of American men masturbate, these three Black gay men are doing two things the majority of the population refuse to do—they’re talking openly about their masturbatory practices, with two of the three men exclusively identifying as solosexual—individuals who prefer masturbation (or “bating” as it’s commonly called) over other forms of sexual activity. For these men, and perhaps, many more like them, getting off solo is not a substitution for “the real thing,” their sex lives are real and so are the mind-blowing orgasms they experience multiple times a day.

Valentine’s Day is upon us, and by now, you should have already purchased that special gift for your partner. But if you’re experiencing panic because you’ve waited until the last minute, take a deep breath and relax—we’ve got you covered. The Reckoning has compiled a list of great gift ideas that can be delivered directly to your doorstep or serve as an inspiration for similar gifts that can be found at shops in your local area. And if you’re in Atlanta, we’ve also listed a few Black LGBTQ+-owned businesses that you can support. After all, the love expressed between you and your partner should never be confined to a commercial holiday. Many of the gifts and dining choices on our list can be shared every day of the year. Check out the items that are making our hearts flutter inside.

At a time when the needs of students across the state of Georgia should be the top priority, state leaders, as far as Everton Blair is concerned, are distracted.

“They are busy picking fights with each other and squandering a $3.6 billion surplus opportunity,” Blair told The Reckoning. “We are not taking advantage of the moment before us.”

Blair, currently chairman of Gwinnett County’s Board of Education, is running to be Georgia’s next school superintendent. By all accounts, his campaign is touted as a historic one. If he is elected, Blair will be the first Black, first openly gay, and youngest person to hold the position. But making history is not exactly the motivating factor for Blair.

This April will mark the 26th anniversary of the death of R. Leigh Johnson, or Tré, as he was affectionately called by his family and those in Atlanta’s burgeoning Black gay community of the early ‘90s. A talented poet, singer, and activist, Tré (as I will refer to him going forward) was a creative force whose light was dimmed entirely too soon. Having moved to Atlanta in 2006, a decade after his passing, I’d never heard his name mentioned in activist circles, or read any of his poetry. I didn’t know that he’d once walked the same streets as I did and made it possible for me to experience the liberation and freedom that I now enjoy as an out Black gay man.