Vulnerability will bring rejection, but it’s worth it. From a young age, sharing my story meant facing rejection, especially from those closest to me. I had to learn that vulnerability is a necessary step toward authenticity and growth.
As a part of my series about “authors who are making an important social impact”, I had the pleasure of interviewing JJ Scheinwynn.
JJ Scheinwynn is a debut memoirist whose powerful storytelling illuminates the intersection of race, identity, and survival. As a gay, Black man who has navigated the complexities of abandonment, systemic injustice, and personal loss, JJ’s voice is a testament to resilience in a world that often overlooks those deemed as “other”.
His dark memoir, “No, Mom and Dad, I Won’t Let You Kill Me!”, is a raw, unflinching account of overcoming adversity, challenging societal norms, and calling for radical empathy. With his unapologetic honesty, JJ strives to inspire change and foster understanding, creating space for marginalized voices to be heard.
Thank you so much for joining us in this interview series! Before we dive into the main focus of our interview, our readers would love to “get to know you” a bit better. Can you tell us a bit about your childhood backstory?
Thank you for having me. It’s not easy to talk about my childhood, but it’s important.
I grew up in a world where silence was survival. My family was steeped in a rigid, high-control religion that demanded performative obedience above all else. Love was conditional and something you earned by following the rules, not something you were given freely. I was homeschooled, isolated from the world, and taught that my worth was tied to how well I could conform.
As a mixed-race kid in predominantly white spaces, I was always the “other.” The 1990s were a time of racial tension, and I felt it everywhere: in the way people stared, in the way they crossed the street to avoid me, in the way I was made to feel like an intruder in my own life.
Abuse defined my home life, and it was felt on physical, emotional, and spiritual levels. It wasn’t just the beatings or the harsh environment; it was the slow, steady erasure of who I was. I was taught to shrink, to disappear, to make myself small so others could feel comfortable.
But even in the darkest moments, there was a faint spark in me that refused to go out. That energy kept me alive, kept me fighting, and eventually led me to write my memoir. This book is my way of reclaiming my voice, my story, and my right to exist.
When you were younger, was there a book that you read that inspired you to take action or changed your life? Can you share a story about that?
As a kid, I’d go to the library and lose myself in house floor plan books. I know it sounds strange, but those drawings were my sanctuary. I’d imagine what it would feel like to live in a home filled with love and safety, a place where I belonged. But even as I dreamed, I couldn’t shake the feeling that those homes weren’t meant for someone like me, a mixed-race kid who felt like a stranger in his own skin.
Around 11 or 12, I read The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn. Huck and Jim’s journey hit me hard, especially Jim’s humanity and the injustice he faced. For the first time, I saw parts of my own life reflected in those pages: the weight of being “othered,” the invisible barriers that defined my world, and the quiet resistance it takes to claim your own story. It was my first real understanding that the pain I felt was beyond my personal experiences and was tied to something bigger, something systemic.
Those books gave me permission to dream of freedom, even when freedom felt impossible. They showed me that there was a world beyond the one I was trapped in, and that maybe even someone like me could find their way out.
It has been said that our mistakes can be our greatest teachers. Can you share a story about the funniest mistake you made when you were first starting? Can you tell us what lesson you learned from that?
Honestly, this question stumped me at first. The journey of writing my memoir doesn’t have funny, lighthearted moments. It’s been a hard road, and the lessons I’ve learned have come from pain, not humor. But if I had to pinpoint one big takeaway, it’s this: I wish I led with my truth from the beginning, no matter how uncomfortable it felt.
For most of my life, the only feedback I received was that my story was too much, too messy, too heavy, and far too raw. I convinced myself that if I kept my head down and played by the rules, I could earn the acceptance and safety I was desperate for. But all I did was sabotage myself. I let fear silence me, and in doing that, I let my life slip away. There’s nothing funny about that. It’s just sad.
I’ve learned that the only way to find real joy and authentic freedom is to honor your truth. To stop hiding, stop shrinking, and start speaking even when it feels like the world doesn’t want to hear it. That’s where the healing begins and where we start to rebuild.
While I don’t have a funny mistake to share, I can say this: my mistake was thinking my story didn’t matter. And my biggest lesson is realizing my story has meaning. And not just to me, but to anyone who’s ever felt invisible or silenced. Telling my story, as hard as it’s been, has been the most freeing thing I’ve ever done.
Can you describe how you aim to make a significant social impact with your book?
This book isn’t just about a story, it’s a mirror. It’s a reflection of the systems and behaviors that perpetuate harm, and a challenge for those who read the book to confront those truths. I want to spark empathy, to make people see the humanity in those who’ve been erased or overlooked.
Beyond this, I also want to inspire action. Survival shouldn’t be mistaken for success. No one should have to shrink themselves just to exist. If my story can help even one person see the world differently or push someone to challenge the systems that harm us all, then I feel that my job has been done.
This book is a call to build a world where every voice is valued, where no one is forced to fight just to be seen. It’s not just about my survival; it’s about creating a future where survival isn’t the only option.
Can you share with us the most interesting story that you shared in your book?
One of the defining moments in my book takes place in a Target store in 1995. I was 11 years old, and my family and I walked past the TV section just as the O.J. Simpson verdict was being announced. A crowd had gathered, and when the verdict “Not Guilty” was announced, the air changed almost tangibly. I felt the weight of their stares, the silent judgment, and the hate simply because we were Black.
That moment stuck with me. It was a stark message that no matter where I went, I was never truly safe. It felt like the world’s hatred wasn’t something I could escape.
But even then, there was a quiet resilience forming. I began to understand that my worth wasn’t defined by the hate I faced. It was a painful lesson and the beginning of my journey to reclaim my power.
What was the “aha moment” or series of events that made you decide to bring your message to the greater world? Can you share a story about that?
The turning point came when I hit rock bottom, living in poverty, and stripped of everything I’d built. I was carrying the weight of a childhood marked by abuse, rejection, and being disowned by my family, all while navigating a world that seemed to hate me.
Out of desperation, I reached out to my estranged parents, the very people who had disowned me and denied my truth for so long. I told them how much I was struggling and how close I was to giving up.
My father’s response was as shattering as it was expected. He dismissed my pain, said that supporting me was pointless, and told me my life wasn’t worth saving. That moment led me to finally acknowledge how I had spent my entire life chasing acceptance from all the wrong places, protecting people who abused me, making excuses for their destructive choices, and sacrificing myself to keep others comfortable. I was done denying my truths to make others comfortable.
Writing this book became my way of reclaiming my humanity. It’s not just a chronicle of what I’ve endured; it’s a declaration that my voice, and the voices of so many others who’ve been silenced, deserve to be heard.
Without sharing specific names, can you tell us a story about a particular individual who was impacted or helped by your cause?
One of the most meaningful moments since releasing this book came when a friend shared how it impacted him. We come from similar backgrounds marked by rejection, silence, and the struggle to exist authentically in a world that often refuses to see us.
He too had a complicated relationship with his father, and although his father has since passed away, my book helped him process that grief. It gave him permission to let go of some of the pain he’d been holding onto. Hearing that reminded me why I chose to share my truth. It’s not just about my story; it’s about creating a space where others can find theirs.
Are there three things the community/society/politicians can do to help you address the root of the problem you are trying to solve?
- Cultivate empathy and acceptance. I write about how systemic racism, homophobia, and erasure shaped my life. To dismantle stigmas, we need honest, inclusive education. Being outcast by family, community, and society from a young age left deep scars. Teaching people to see humanity in difference, understand systemic oppression, and challenge biases can create a world where no one must shrink to exist. Empathy is action, and acceptance is making space for everyone to thrive.
- Transform systems that perpetuate harm. The systems we rely on weren’t built for everyone, and in 2025, we’re watching them unravel in ways that hurt the most vulnerable. We need bold action to rebuild these structures in ways where freedom, equity, and sustainability are the foundation and no longer the afterthoughts. If we don’t fight for systems that work for all of us, we’re choosing to leave people behind. And that’s a choice we can’t afford to make.
- Build collective self-sustainability. True change comes when communities are empowered to care for themselves and each other. This means investing in affordable housing, quality education, mental health support, and economic opportunities. It’s about actively giving people the tools they need to thrive.
How do you define “Leadership”? Can you explain what you mean or give an example?
Leadership is about taking inspired action. It’s not about preserving the status quo but daring to envision and create new realities that serve the collective good. True leadership requires the courage to stand apart, to challenge deeply ingrained beliefs, and to disrupt the familiar in pursuit of something better.
Writing this memoir was an act of leadership for me. It meant exposing the harsh realities of my life and confronting painful truths; not only for myself but for the hope that it could inspire others to create change. Leadership is about creating spaces where others can step into their power and contribute to a better, more inclusive world.
What are your “5 things I wish someone told me when I first started” and why?
- Vulnerability will bring rejection, but it’s worth it. From a young age, sharing my story meant facing rejection, especially from those closest to me. I had to learn that vulnerability is a necessary step toward authenticity and growth.
- You’re not alone, even when you feel isolated. In my darkest moments, it felt like I was the only one struggling. Talking about my experience has connected me with people who understand and share my pain.
- Telling your story is an act of self-liberation. For years, I suppressed my truth out of fear and the desire to fit in. Once I started sharing it, I felt less trapped. Telling my story has been about reclaiming my voice and my power.
- Trust the process, even in times of failure. There have been countless moments where my failures were completely evident, even tangible; but those were the moments I was growing the most.
- You define yourself; and you’re safe to do so. For most of my life, I was told who I was supposed to be, how I was supposed to look or dress, and how I should express myself. It has taken me decades to understand that I have the power to define myself, and that I am safe to do so.
Can you please give us your favorite “Life Lesson Quote”? Can you share how that was relevant to you in your life?
One of the most transformative lessons I’ve learned is, “When someone tells you who they are, believe them.” Often attributed to Maya Angelou and Oprah, this lesson is simple but profound to me. It’s about accepting reality, even when it’s painful.
For years, I ignored this truth. I held onto the hope that those who hurt me might change and that systems designed to oppress might suddenly grant me freedom. These denials kept me trapped.
Embracing this lesson taught me to honor the truth of what is being shown, to trust my intuition, and to stop investing energy in what doesn’t align with my worth.
Is there a person in the world, or in the US with whom you would like to have a private breakfast or lunch with, and why? He or she might just see this, especially if we tag them. 🙂
If I could share a meal with anyone, it would be former President Barack Obama. His ability to lead with empathy, despite systemic opposition, mirrors my own fight to exist in a world that often refused to see me. I’d ask him how he held onto hope and compassion when resistance felt endless, because I know that fight.
For me, this conversation would be about finding the strength to stay grounded in purpose, even when the world makes progress feel impossible.
How can our readers further follow your work online?
My memoir, “No, Mom and Dad, I Won’t Let You Kill Me!”, is available as an eBook on Amazon, Barnes & Noble, Apple Books, and Kobo. The paperback edition is available on Amazon also.
You can connect with me on TikTok and Blue Sky @truthingup, and on Instagram @schein.on.
This was very meaningful, thank you so much. We wish you only continued success on your great work!
Social Impact Authors: How & Why Author JJ Scheinwynn Is Helping To Change Our World was originally published in Authority Magazine on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.