Poetry and writing in general have always been an outlet for me.

I have felt most understood on the page when I couldn't say anything out loud.

I could say it to a journal.

Hi my name is Jamillia Kamara Covington.

Creatively I go by Jamillia Kaye.

I am a poet, writer and a photographer of late.

Also really into textiles.

And I'm using all of that to start conversations about legacy through the lens of community, creativity and culture.

Shadow Lounge in East Liberty is where I feel like I came of age as an artist.

I wasn't doing any spoken word or any performances in Philadelphia as a poet and a writer.

It wasn't until I went to the University of Pittsburgh I saw poets performing at Campus open mic and at Shadow Lounge, tha I began to have the confidence to actually 1.

Try that mediu of spoken word and 2.

Perform.

And so in many ways, I would sa the Pittsburgh artist scene is indelibly responsible for the way that I'm showing up as an artist today.

I feel most grounded i my artist identity in the city.

And I have, the city and the artist community to thank for that.

The spoken word form of my poetry allowed me to be, a mor unapologetic version of myself that I wasn't necessarily being in person.

The idea for Rooted starte as a whisper in my living room.

I told my husband first I said, what if I do this?

And it was inspired by the passing of a friend of 21 years, Alicia Anglin, who kept me rooted.

And so the spirit of the collection was really thinking abou experiences that keep us rooted.

Whether that's true love or the arriva of a new member of our family, or the person in our mentorshi circle, that keeps us grounded, or the person in our family lif that brings everyone together.

But the photography element came first as a whisper, honestly, to see what if I could combine my love of poetry and my love of photography and storytelling in general to spotlight creatives around Pittsburgh who keep us all grounded?

And so that's where the Rooted exhibition came from.

My curator challenged m to write a poem for each person that was a part of the exhibition.

And so that's how that came about.

It was still 2024, I was grieving my friend's death, and a lot of other things were going on at the time.

I got the camera in February, and in March I went to a doctor's appointment.

I had like some testing, and on the day of that test I found out I was pregnant.

And so then the question became, am I about to do this?

Am I allowed to do this project?

Like not reall knowing what I'm doing and also navigating this experience of creating life.

And so there were lots of reasons to say no.

When you are creating, when I am creating, the biggest challenge is myself is getting over the fear of, well, this thing that I'm doing people haven't seen me do before.

What are they going to think of it?

What are they going to think of me?

What if it doesn't go well?

What is the definition of it going well?

All of the ways that we talk ourselves out of creating things that ultimately can shift something in another person and help them create, too.

So the largest challenge is always pushing back against the voice in my hea that says, it's not good enough.

You're not ready.

You should wait.

You have all these other things and all of these other priorities.

And now is not the time.

The reality is, and I think that's part of the reason why grief is suc a huge piece of my creativity.

All we have is now, you know, we're losing people at an alarming rate for a variety of reasons.

And if we fail to create, we might get another moment.

But it'll never be like this one.

I would say be willing to go first.

Be willing to do something you haven't seen before, and be willing to learn from the team around you.

I think when it comes to the times that we're in where so many of us are feeling uprooted and unrooted, so many of us are feeling unseen, invisible, overlooked, undervalued, unsupported.

Being able to reflect each other back to one another is one of the most important and valuable and powerful things we can do for each other.

Wasn't quite sure what to expec and to see people and not just being there, but also saying, well, when's the next one?

And knowing that there's actually a next one in the works, like we're going to shoot this spring and there'll be another one this fall, and then we'll do another 1 in 2027.

It's bringing all of these pieces of me together.

I think one of the things I've struggled with as somebody who works full time.

I'm also a new mom, and I have all of these different pieces of me.

Integration is really difficult in terms of wanting to exist as I am with all of these facets authentically not feeling like I'm performing for anyone, but really being the truest version of myself and rooted.

Gave that opportunity to me.

And for that reason, this is my favorite project because this is just the beginning.

We'll have two more shows, and we'll be able to build on what we learned from this first one and take it into the next two with hands and soil and souls and sand.

You create the kind of water that grows fear into faith and teaches us to return, earthside.

You are the kind of ancestor that shifts whispers from bee stings to sunflowers.

You lead with a joy stitched from quilts of words, herbs, flow and care Thank you for inviting us to walk by your side.

That's Heather Manning.