Zip Up Your Go-go Boots And Smile

From A Beauty Queen

- Trisha Coburn

I grew up in a small town in the foothills of the Appalachian Mountains, Anniston, Alabama. Much of the town worked at the cotton mill, the Fort McClellan Army base, or the Monsanto chemical plant. The town stank like rotten eggs.

It was a poor town where girls got married at 14. They were usually pregnant by 15. My mama had five kids by the age of 22, and six of her eight husbands came from Fort McClellan.

My siblings and I grew up in a housing project. At school, we had to eat last because we were the welfare kids. By the time I was eight years old, I was cleaning houses and babysitting. But you know, I didn’t mind. I felt safer working than being at home with Mama and all those strange men coming and going all the time.

When I turned 12 years old, I got my dream job, working the concession at the movie theater. I got a chance to see how people outside the projects behaved and how they dressed.

One day, the tallest woman I’d ever seen walked in. She had on a big pink hat. She was wearing a pink dress. She was carrying a pink pocketbook and wearing white gloves. She walked up to the counter and said, “I’ll have a large popcorn, a large RC Cola, and a large Hershey bar with almonds.” I thought, She must be rich. Nobody orders large.

So she looked at me and said, “What’s your name?” And I said, “Trisha Mitchell.” She said, “How old are you?” And I’m thinking, Why is she asking me all these questions? I answered, “Twelve.” She said, “How tall are ya, honey?” I said, “I don’t know, ma’am.” And she said, “Well, stand against that RC Cola machine. I’m gonna measure your height.”