Evie Lee ’25 Wins a National Silver Medal in the 2023 Scholastic Art & Writing Awards

We are proud to announce Evie Lee ’25 was awarded a National Silver Medal in poetry in the 2023 Scholastic Art & Writing Awards, presented by the Alliance for Young Artists & Writers.

The Scholastic Art & Writing Awards has an impressive legacy dating back to 1923. Over the years, the Awards have grown to become the longest-running, most prestigious recognition program for creative teens in the U.S., and the nation’s largest source of scholarships for creative young artists and writers. A noteworthy roster of past winners includes Andy Warhol, Sylvia Plath, Truman Capote, Richard Avedon, Robert Redford, Joyce Carol Oates, Stephen King, John Updike, and many more.

Each year, the Alliance partners with more than 100 visual and literary arts organizations across the country to bring the Awards to local communities. Teens in grades 7 through 12 can apply in 28 categories of art and writing for the chance to earn scholarships and have their works exhibited or published. Submissions are juried by luminaries in the visual and literary arts, some of whom are past award recipients. Panelists look for works that best exemplify originality, technical skill, and the emergence of a personal voice or vision.

More than 100,000 students submitted more than 260,000 works of art and writing to the 2023 Scholastic Awards. Evie’s work was selected by some of the foremost leaders in the visual and literary arts for excellence in originality, technical skill, and the emergence of a personal voice or vision. Less than 2,000 works received a National Medal, which places Evie within the top 1% of all submissions!

Other by Evie Lee ’25

that’s what i am.
or at least how you classified me,
as if i’m a book in the library:
The Racially Ambiguous.
it’s funny how my entire existence,
the privileges i will receive, 
is denounced to an 
of an option.
still, i could have it worse.
they are choked out
constantly by the grip
of racial injustice.
if my neck aches,
they can’t breathe.
maybe i should be grateful for being

a minister and a domestic worker of
different races
were found doing the unthinkable. immoral. 
that’s what they are.
that’s what my parents are.
does that make me a 
if they found my mother’s underwear,
brought it in front of the court,
would she be dead?
if they saw my parents
through my father’s window,
would that window exist any longer?
or would it be 
bulldozed to the ground,
just like they stripped the
house of equality 
from the Earth.

or am i, 
with my radical ideas,
and my dreams of equality,
the true devourer
of their good night’s sleep?

i am the
i am the 
regret that no one   
wants to acknowledge.
i am the   
torn apart body, 
ripped to shreds   
by the vultures
of hatred and aversion
to the unknown. 
i am the leftover. 
i am “other”.