I've been to Detroit, but I've never lived in Detroit. There's a big difference according to American Street. I'm not sure what I was expecting, but it definitely wasn't this. I'm glad. I feel like I charged into it like Fabiola (aka Fabulous) charged into Detroit straight from Haiti. Her mother was detained, and she went on ahead to live with her aunt and 3 cousins, the 3 Bees. One was known for Brains, another Beauty, and one for Brawn. Expectations of Fabiola mimicked the street corner she was on- American and Joy. But it was far from that.
I've spent a whole week there, so I totally know all about Detroit culture (ha, that was definite sarcasm). But I did get a small taste, and while the people on Mac Avenue were friendly, there were definite places not to get involved in. Same goes for DC (good block here, bad block there, etc.), but there's still the pride of Detroit that keeps people there. Family history (such as the family on American street) that can't move. With a bit of Haitian spiritualism, some questionable lines to cross, and a romance, this story unfolds a true depiction of what it means to be a family in the midst of American despair.