It was the summer after I turned eight when I fell in love with the stage and the imaginative worlds it could take me to. After performing several solos during school assemblies and even for our district’s superintendent during a visit, a few of my teachers pulled my dad aside and encouraged him to place me in an arts enrichment program to nurture my gift.

I was always an avid reader. Both of my parents kept books lying around the house for as long as I can remember. Reading became my way of producing movies in my mind. Each page came to life as I escaped to other worlds, times, and places far away from the chaos of my broken home. Books became my refuge as my parents endured a long, painful separation and eventual divorce—leaving behind emotional scars that ran deep. When my mother and older sister moved out, the silence echoed through the halls of our house and through my heart. That emptiness shaped me.

Living in inner-city Cleveland, the most prominent summer arts program was housed at Karamu House, the oldest producing African American theatre in the nation. During the first day of the summer program, I was given the script to Anansi the Spider and instructed to memorize one long paragraph from the 30-page script to use as my audition piece for the following Monday.

It was my weekend to spend with my mom and sister, and what happened next changed my life. My mother, a singer and actress who had once graced the stage herself, helped me memorize the entire script in just three days. We ran lines while she cooked dinner, during meals, before movie time with my sister, while I played with my dolls—we even acted out scenes on our walks through the neighborhood. Her belief in me was constant, creative, and full of love. She made the story come alive before I ever set foot on stage.

When I walked into that audition room, I wasn’t just prepared. I was unstoppable. I landed the lead role, and that was the moment a spark lit inside me. That spark? It still burns through The Heart of Art.

From that moment forward, my dad dove headfirst into being a full-blown stage dad. He scoured newspapers, local access channels, and the internet to find every artistic opportunity he could. He chauffeured me to every rehearsal and performance, was ever present in the audience, and always waiting in the wings with a hug and a proud smile. He made sure I never missed a chance to grow, create, or shine.

Closing out my 5th grade year and preparing to enroll in Garrett Morgan School of Science, a public magnet school, my band teacher, Mrs. Fitch, along with my favorite teacher, Ms. Odom, urged my father to sign me up to audition for the Cleveland School of the Arts. Being admitted to CSA changed my life.

Performing at the Cleveland School of the Arts taught me not only how to speak, but how to be seen. It was there that I realized storytelling was more than survival. It was my purpose.

This purpose followed me throughout my higher education endeavors, shaping how I showed up in classrooms, on stages, and in service to others. I pursued a Bachelor’s degree in Theatre Performance from Kent State University, followed by a Master of Public Administration from DeVry University. I’m currently earning my Master of Arts in Arts Management from the University of Oklahoma. At every step, I have stayed grounded in the belief that creativity is both healing and revolutionary. Each degree, paper, and performance was another step toward creating spaces like the one I had as a child, where art could hold, heal, and uplift.

Just ten months after I graduated from undergrad, my mother passed away after an eight-year battle with breast cancer. Sadly, she wasn’t well enough to attend the ceremony. But after walking across that stage, my father and I drove straight to the Seidman Cancer Center, where we walked the halls so my mother could see her baby girl in her cap and gown. That was one of the most meaningful moments of my life, and my biggest regret is that we didn’t capture it in a photo. But I carry it with me every day, etched in memory and in purpose.

Her final birthday wish to me was simple but profound: “Be a good, and happy, person.” That message continues to guide everything I do.

The Heart of Art began as the response to a prayer for clarity of purpose. I created it not just as an organization, but as a love letter to creativity and connection. Through trauma-informed and racially equitable arts programming, we help Black and Brown youth ignite their voices, strengthen their literacy, and find belonging on and off the stage. We believe that art is more than expression. It is liberation.

Today, every rehearsal, every script, and every story we uplift is a continuation of the legacy my mother helped me begin and the belief my father never stopped pouring into me. I don’t just lead. I lead with H.E.A.R.T.

—Charla-Janey “ChiChi” Roberts