[Y]oung Writers Project, an independent nonprofit based in Burlington, engages young people to write and use digital media to express themselves with clarity and power, and to gain confidence and skills for school, the workplace and life.
Check out the most recent issue of The Voice, Young Writers Projectโ€™s monthly digital magazine. Click here.
Each week, VTDigger features a writing submission โ€“ an essay, poem, fiction or nonfiction โ€“ accompanied by a photo or illustration from Young Writers Project. YWP publishes about 1,000 studentsโ€™ work each year here, in newspapers across Vermont, on Vermont Public Radio and in YWPโ€™s monthly digital magazine, The Voice. Since 2006, it has offered young people a place to write, share their photos, art, audio and video, and to explore and connect online at youngwritersproject.org. For more information, please contact Susan Reid at sreid@youngwritersproject.org.
Illustration by Katherine Moran, 15, Bristol/YWP Media Library

The Sept. 18 death of Supreme Court Justice and womenโ€™s rights champion Ruth Bader Ginsburg has effected a tidal wave of grief that left โ€“ and still leaves โ€“ millions of Americans anguished and distressed. This weekโ€™s poet, Lily Hutcheson of Manchester, is no exception, using the written word to come to grips with Ginsburgโ€™s passing, pay her homage, and let her know that her legacy will continue on.

Notorious RBG (you are still here)

By Lily Hutcheson, 14, Manchester

I donโ€™t know what to say.
โ€œRest in peaceโ€ sounds so hollow being typed on my phoneโ€™s keyboard.
Youโ€™ll never know how we mourned you
now that youโ€™re
gone.
Youโ€™ll never know how it all ends,
what happens to the world now that youโ€™re
gone.
I wrote your life down on a piece of paper last spring
and it still slipped away.
Somehow I thought youโ€™d still be there the day I died,
putting on your lace collars
and dissenting.
Iโ€™m not qualified to sing your praises,
but thank you for everything you ever did.
Thank you for doing something that made us cry now that you’re
gone.
I hope maybe
you caught a glimpse of what we would do
without you,
somehow, someway.
But the truth is that
you made me realize,
just as you were leaving,
how little time we have
to stay.
I donโ€™t know what to say.
I should have thanked you while you were still here
to listen.
It shouldnโ€™t have taken this to make me realize
the amazing, incredible power
of our short little lives.
I hope
I can use mine
like you used yours.
And I keep saying youโ€™re gone
but really,
maybe,
youโ€™re still here.
Yes.
Youโ€™re still here.

Love,
Another little girl who lives in books