The first time I met Jayna Young, I was carrying one of the first set pieces I had ever made into a theater. I remember feeling proud of it, but also a little unsure of myself, like I was stepping into a world I didn’t quite belong in yet.
And there she was.
Sitting in one of the theater chairs, right in the middle of the room, talking to someone. At the same time, she had her eyes on me the entire walk down that aisle. When I got closer, she tipped her reading glasses down to the end of her nose and looked at me. She didn’t say anything right away. She just studied me, with a slight grin like she already knew something I didn’t.
At the time, I didn’t know what to make of her. All I saw was this striking woman with big black curls and a presence that filled the room without her even trying. It wasn’t intimidating, just noticeable. The kind of person you don’t overlook.
Later, she told me that in that moment, she knew I had something special. She said she was always looking for creative people to bring into her circle, and she saw that in me before I saw it in myself.
That is Jayna.
She sees things before they become what they’re meant to be.
Jayna is originally from New Orleans, Louisiana, and if you’ve ever spent more than five minutes with her, you know it. She’s loud, expressive, full of energy, and completely unapologetic about it. Some people might see that as intense. I see it as passion. She has a passion for life that not everyone knows how to receive at first. And I think part of that is because when you’re around someone who moves the way she does, it makes you take a hard look at yourself. It makes you realize how much more you could be doing, how much more you could be showing up. That kind of energy doesn’t always sit easy with people. But it’s real, and it’s honest, and it comes from a place of wanting more out of life, not just for herself, but for everyone around her. She feels everything fully, and she puts that same intensity into everything she touches.
She has planted her life in Tylertown, Mississippi, and we are lucky for it.
While her roots are here, her work stretches well beyond it. Jayna is deeply involved in theater across Louisiana, including her role as a board member for The Company, a St. Bernard Community Theater in Chalmette, where she also works with their children’s group, the Drama Llamas. She has contributed to productions at the Evangeline Theater in Mandeville, taking on everything from costuming to producing and performing.
One of her upcoming productions, Women in Rock 2 at the Azienda Theater in Chalmette, reflects exactly who she is, with proceeds supporting the Family Violence Program of St. Bernard Parish as well as the local theater community.
But no matter where she is, her purpose is the same.
She walks into a space, sees what it could be, and gets to work.
From children’s theater in McComb to community projects like the splash pad in Tylertown, Jayna has a way of stepping into something and making it better. Not for recognition. Not for credit. But because she genuinely cannot help herself. She sees potential everywhere.
What stands out the most about Jayna is not just what she does, but how she does it. She gives freely. To people she knows, and to people she barely does. I have watched her show gratitude in ways that made me stop and rethink what it means to give without expecting anything in return.
She is, without question, one of the most unselfish people I have ever met.
And somehow, she does all of this while also pouring herself into kids. She believes deeply in children’s theater, not just as an activity, but as something that shapes confidence, creativity, and identity. She doesn’t just teach kids how to perform. She teaches them how to believe in themselves.
I’ve seen that firsthand with my own children.
We were out eating one night, and the waitress asked if my eight year old wanted a kid’s cup. Before I could even say anything, Jayna put both hands on the table and said no, she doesn’t want a kid’s cup. It wasn’t rude. It wasn’t dismissive. It was firm, like she was making it clear that my daughter should be seen as more than just a kid.
And I watched it click.
I saw it in my daughter’s eyes. Someone saw her as a person. Not just a child to be handed something smaller or simpler, but someone capable of choosing for herself.
That’s what Jayna does.
She helps kids see that they have potential far beyond what they’ve been told. That their voice matters. That they’re allowed to take up space and speak up for themselves.
That kind of work matters. Especially here.
Jayna and I are complete opposites in a lot of ways. I tend to be quiet, more reserved. She is anything but. She moves fast, speaks loud, and jumps headfirst into whatever is in front of her.
And yet, she has changed me.
I saw that firsthand over the summer when I helped her clean out a room at the State Theater. It was in complete disarray. There was a side room where things were piled halfway to the ceiling. It was overwhelming in a way that makes you not even want to start. You stand there and think, where do you even begin with something like this?
Jayna’s answer was simple. Just start.
No overthinking. No waiting for the right moment. Just start moving.
And somewhere along the way, you find your rhythm.
Working alongside her in that room changed something in me. It shifted the way I approach my own life, my work at home, and the way I move through my days with my kids. I don’t sit and wait for the right time anymore. I just get up and go, even if I don’t have it all figured out.
Life is too short to sit still.
I think about that even in the smallest moments. Like the day she was at my house and I had to run to the store. I was gone maybe fifteen minutes. When I came back, my entire pantry had been cleaned out and reorganized.
She could have sat there. She could have scrolled on her phone. But she didn’t.
She saw something that could be better, and she made it better.
And it makes you take a hard look at your own time. What are you doing with it? What could you be doing instead?
I know for me, I’ve been doing more since meeting Jayna. More creating. More doing. Less waiting.
Jayna is a wife, a mother, and what she proudly calls a fairy glam mother. But more than anything, she is a friend. The kind of friend who changes you. The kind that leaves a lasting impact on the way you see the world and the way you move through it.
Mississippi is better because she’s here.
I know I am.
And I’m grateful she looked up over those glasses that day and decided I was worth noticing.
