Editor’s Note: In October 2015, Playboy magazine announced its editorial decision to stop publishing nude photographs. Kojo wrote a response to this decision and a reflection on the role of the magazine in his life below. In February 2017, the magazine’s current leadership reversed that decision.

So Playboy magazine won’t be featuring nude photos anymore.

Good.

To this day, I get upset whenever I tell people I enjoyed Playboy magazine as a teenager and they invariably snicker or nod their heads with a knowing, conspiratorial smile. So let me say from the outset that while I’ve done my share (maybe more) of girl watching as a youth, I was never a fan of staring at women I don’t know in a state of undress, whether in magazines or strip clubs. For me, if there was no personal connection, that was a waste of my time.

Anyway, while I don’t remember how I first heard of Playboy, I do remember an adult mentioning there was something about Miles Davis in Playboy. That got my attention. In the early 1960s in what was then British Guiana (the only English speaking country in South America), a teenager’s interest in the U.S. was sparked by two factors: movies and music. Soon my friends’ youthful fascination with rebellion went beyond James Dean and Elvis Presley, and into the more complicated world where race and music intersect. Our older siblings were listening to jazz, and even though we didn’t quite understand it yet, our ears and eyes informed us that Miles Davis was the Rebellious Cool we wanted to be.

Reading was always my refuge, so I started reading everything I could about Miles Davis. I don’t remember how I got my hands on that issue of Playboy magazine (more than likely from my older brother), but there was a fascinating interview with Miles Davis conducted by some guy I never heard of named Alex Haley, who was, as I recall, identified only as “Playboy.” So Miles was talking to Playboy. Cool.

I was hooked. I told my friends, “Man, Playboy has some really interesting interviews.” They would say “Yeah right,” and nod and wink knowingly. Didn’t matter to me. I started reading Playboy wherever I could find it, since I couldn’t afford to buy it. Finding it wasn’t difficult, if you didn’t mind looking under mattresses and beds.

Playboy was where I first read Norman Mailer and where I had my first encounter with Woody Allen (another guy I’d never heard of), in another interview. He was hilarious, making me laugh out loud while reading.

The magazine also played a part in me coming to the U.S.

My interest in race in America was fueled by reports of the 1963 March on Washington, and after reading James Baldwin’s essays, “The Fire Next Time,” I was fired up. Then Baldwin and another guy I’d never heard of, Budd Schulberg, had a dialogue on race in Playboy. It was riveting. I knew by then that the Civil Rights movement was the strongest force drawing me to North America.

These are my memories of Playboy magazine, and it’s been decades since I’ve read the magazine, but I’m happy that it will no longer feature nude photos. Now maybe people will stop placing quotation marks before the word “reading” when it applies to Playboy magazine.

Darn, I just did it myself.