Intimacy, Vulnerability, and Quiet Complexity
An Interview with Jada Gentry
The following interview was conducted via email between Criterion faculty editor James Sullivan and Spring 2025 poetry contributor and graduating senior Jada Gentry.
JS: One idiosyncratic feature of your poems is your preference to avoid capital letters. Can you talk a little bit about this preference and how it fits with your poetic goals?
JG: My choice to forgo capitalization is both stylistic and intentional. It creates a sense of intimacy and vulnerability, stripping away formality and allowing the words to feel more fluid and natural. It also plays into the themes of softness and quiet resistance in my poetry—I want the language to feel like a whisper rather than a command.
What's one formal technique you'd like readers of The Criterion to notice in these poems?
One technique I consciously use is repetition, particularly in how it builds rhythm and emotion. In poems like “you never,” the repeating phrases act as echoes of memory and trauma, reinforcing the weight of the speaker’s experience. I also experiment with line breaks to create pauses that guide the reader’s breath, mirroring the hesitations and emotional shifts in the poem.
From our conversations, I know some of your original interest in poetry stems from popular Insta-poets like Rupi Kaur. Those are great entry-points for many people, but you also told me you found your own poetic impulses stretching beyond what's typical for those forms. How do you think about your own influences and balancing that with your individual tendencies, preferences, and creative exploration?
Rupi Kaur was an early influence, especially in how she made poetry feel accessible, but as I kept writing, I found myself drawn to more nuanced and layered styles. I admire poets who weave stark imagery with quiet complexity. My own poetry now leans into a balance between simplicity and depth, using minimalism in form but layering emotion and imagery beneath the surface.
Where do you see the role of art and poetry in your life now that you're going out into the (I hesitate greatly with this phrase) "real world?"
Poetry is still a huge part of how I process the world, even as I step into more structured career paths. I see it as a way to stay grounded in creativity and reflection, whether that’s through journaling, occasional submissions, or simply reading more work that inspires me. It’s something I’ll always return to, whether or not it’s a main focus in my day-to-day life.