Page 64 of August Lane
Emma:
So why did you do it?
Jojo:
Well, at that point, I was sixteen and had been doing pageants for years. I was a pro. So when my mother got the invitation—they sent those to everyone in the county back then—she said, “Maybe we should skip it.” I told her no. I’d won all the Black pageants, and I wanted a challenge. I wanted white people to tell me I was pretty, I guess. It was silly.
Emma:
Silly is a strong word. I mean, you won. The first Black Miss Delta Teen.
Jojo:
And that was fun for a hot minute. Then the death threats started coming.
Emma:
You received death threats?
Jojo:
Of course. They tried to hide them from me, but people approached me in the street. I remember this boy, one of the few little white boys in my class, shoving me into a locker. He was spitting mad. Literal spit flying everywhere, and he called me… I can’t say it on here, can I? The N-word. And it sounded strange coming out of him, like he wasn’t used to saying it. Or maybe he just wasn’t used to shouting it in someone’s face. Either way, he got suspended. His little friends were mad at me. Like I was the one who put that nastiness in his mouth.
Emma:
Were you bullied at school?
Jojo:
