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Meet Jawaniecika “JoJo” Bryant of Southwest Atlanta

Today we’d like to introduce you to Jawaniecika “JoJo” Bryant.

Hi Jawaniecika “JoJo”, thanks for sharing your story with us. To start, maybe you can tell our readers some of your backstory.
The first time I heard a camera shutter sing, it felt like magic.

I’d been holding cameras for as long as I could remember—disposable throwaways, the old-school Polaroids (the big, black, bulky ones, not the cute little pastel toys they sell today), even a JVC camcorder that could shoot both video and stills. If it could freeze a moment in time, I wanted it.

But I grew up in the country.

I didn’t know there were other kinds of cameras out there—until February 2012.

A family member came home to visit, and we were all sitting in the living room. She circled the room, snapping away, and I kept hearing this rapid click-click-click that was unlike anything I’d heard before. It was her shutter, firing off like it had a heartbeat of its own.

When she got to me, she lifted her camera and captured a shot. (That’s the one of me in the green hoodie and beanie.)

Curious, I asked if I could try. She handed me the camera, and the moment I pressed the shutter, it was like striking a match—the fire sparked and immediately began to blaze.

From that instant, something lit up inside me. I often refer to it as a fire starting in my heart. I didn’t just feel inspired—I felt urgent. I bolted through the field, across the yard, and into my house—busted through the back door—and told my daddy, “I want a camera.”

A month and a half later, the night before Easter 2012, I got my first one: a Canon T2i.

And from there, the rest is history.

Would you say it’s been a smooth road, and if not what are some of the biggest challenges you’ve faced along the way?
As with anything, especially starting out, you’re bound to hit some obstacles.

The first one I ran into was pricing. I was 15 or 16 years old and had just discovered that “professional” cameras were actually a thing. I took mine everywhere, and before I knew it, people started asking me to shoot and even paying me for it.

The problem? I was terrible with numbers and had no idea how to price myself. So I’d just throw out a number. I legit shot my first church event for $25… and the lady still owes me $5. (Yes, seriously.) It sounds wild, but it’s true. I didn’t know what I didn’t know, and I was a quiet kid. I didn’t ask. Plus, there was no one to really guide me because no one I knew was doing what I was doing.

The second obstacle was relationships. No one explained to me how important relationships are especially as a photographer. To this day, most of my business still comes from Instagram or word-of-mouth. Along the way, I’ve messed up some professional relationships, and some people have messed up with me. But I promise you, it’s all part of the growing pains. And growing pains have to happen.

The third obstacle? Confidence. My confidence had to grow. And if I’m being real, it’s still growing. Experience has taught me the power of walking in my own power—how not to be overly critical of myself, how to give myself grace and patience when needed, and how to embrace the unique way my eyes see the world. No two photographers are the same, so I had to get comfortable with my own vision and be confident sharing it with others.

Can you tell our readers more about what you do and what you think sets you apart from others?
I’m primarily an event photographer, specializing in everything from intimate celebrations—birthdays, baby showers, private parties—to large-scale corporate events with brands like ESPN, Coca-Cola, Puma, and more. I also provide multimedia services, including videography, and for that I bring my team on board to handle the workload.

What I’m most proud of? This may sound cliché to some, but it’s the truth straight from my heart—I never get used to how my story unfolds. I’ve been in rooms I never even knew I could walk into. Whether I’m on the 14th floor or the 36th, shooting an event, I make it a point to pause—look out the window, scan the room, and take it all in.

Growing up in the country is different. I could try to explain it, but unless you’ve lived it, you won’t fully understand. That’s why these moments matter so much to me—they’re a far cry from where I started.

And then there’s the people factor. To have someone shake my hand and say, “JoJo, you come highly recommended,” or to overhear one guest ask another, “Where did you find her?”—that’s a feeling I didn’t expect. It’s nice. It’s humbling. And it reminds me that my work is speaking for itself.

I’m proud that I didn’t quit when I felt defeated. I’m proud I didn’t fold when someone wasn’t happy with what I delivered. I’m proud of my buoyancy—my ability to keep going, to step into new and unfamiliar spaces, and to never lose that sense of wonder at how my story continues to play out.

What were you like growing up?
I was a quiet kid—very reserved, shy, and somewhat timid. Most of my time was spent locked in my room, reading, writing poetry, listening to music, or just messing around on the computer.
But, of course, I was country, too. You could find me outside playing with goats, catching toads, riding my four-wheeler or go-kart day in and day out with my cousins.

Even though I was quiet, I had a strong voice and a way with words. Teachers and the grown folks at church were always calling on me to read aloud or recite speeches—and I used to loathe it. Funny enough, my ultimate goal is to one day be a great speaker—but for now, my camera is what gets me into those rooms.

My parents were older—much older. They adopted me from birth, and both were in their late 50s or early 60s when I came into their lives. They both passed away in their mid-70s, just four years apart, so I didn’t have a lot of time with them. Looking back, I wish I had spent less time holed up in my room, but I was just a kid—I couldn’t have known how quickly life would change.

My mom didn’t get to see my photography genius, but my dad did. And oh, did he brag. I can still vividly remember him telling anyone who would listen that I was the best photographer to come out of Laurens County.

Fun fact: The greatest picture I’ve ever taken is of my father on his tractor. I took this photo about a year and a half before he passed away (check out the photos to see).

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