January 2nd, 2024

By Kyo Lee, Grade 11 student in the WRDSB

I submitted my poem in April for the CBC Poetry Prize, partly on a whim. Since the waiting period for most literary submissions is too long (seven months in this case) for my information-era-adjusted brain, I tend to forget about them until I hear back. Especially for this award, I had no expectations for it, so I was awed to be considered a finalist. In fact, I missed the first couple phone calls from CBC because I was studying for a math test (which still went questionably), but when I finally received the call, I was, in the most literal sense, speechless. Following the winner announcement on November 23, I’m grateful to have shared it with my English class, and especially to my English teacher, for being a wonderful knowledge facilitator.

Winning the CBC Poetry Prize is considerable to me on various levels. Personally, it has been an incredible indication that there are stories I can tell that matter to people. I often have doubts about writing because it’s an awfully unstable path and, especially amidst the tech hub culture of Waterloo Region, a peculiar passion. However, it was as if this experience was revealing to me that writing isn’t just something I want to do, but something I can do.

Beyond myself, though, this prize makes me hopeful for the future of art; for me, it has served as a reminder that linguistic acts of defiance are relevant. I indulge myself in believing that my poem, while discussing cruel and violent topics, is ultimately about overcoming them and moving towards a more tender and inclusive future. I’m eminently grateful to be given this chance to express, especially to young people, that I hope we can relearn and redefine love together.

While my writing happens outside of school, I am largely influenced by the school environment and especially the people within; I wouldn’t even be a writer if not for Ms. Haramis, my eighth grade English teacher, to whom I owe everything in my personal and professional writing journey. All of the teachers at my secondary school, regardless of subject, who have encouraged me to think intensively and imagine complexly have also shaped and continue to shape me and my writing significantly.

If I can share any of my thoughts with other young writers, it is that your art is important. I’m grateful to anyone, especially youth, for creating things. I don’t accept that you become a writer after you’ve been published or after a certain milestone; you are a writer because you are writing now. Whether your work is shared with others or not, they’re integral parts of sustaining art and fostering young voices in creative spaces. To quote famous writer and activist Audrey Lorde: “…poetry is not a luxury. It is a vital necessity of our existence. It forms the quality of the light within which we predicate our hopes and dreams toward survival and change, first made into language, then into idea, then into more tangible action.”

Writing is a space for young people to formulate and share themselves, and a critical platform for previously unheard voices to be perceived. I trust that writing does not have to be revolutionary or “good” for it to be important; it simply has to exist. Therefore, the only advice I can give is to write. Not think about or plan to write, but actually write. Don’t get caught up in the conventions your teachers or novels have taught you (apologies to my English teachers)—write what you want to read. Prioritise your craft and give yourself the freedom to create.

About the CBC Poetry Prize

Kyo Lee is the youngest ever winner of the CBC Poetry Prize. The CBC Poetry Prize is a national poetry competition that has been recognizing Canadian writers since 1979. Each year, the winner receives $6,000 from the Canada Council for the Arts and a two-week writing residency, and their work is published on CBC books.