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Published by s.j.adams, 2018-12-12 23:46:20





A 9AE Publication
Cover Image Artwork: Annelies Day
Editing Team: Evie Williams and Sophie Catchpole



Welcome........................................................................................................ 5
Persuasiveness in English................................................................................ 6

Article by Aimee Bowers, Charlotte McCullen, Sidney Rios and Sylvia Veale6
Monologues ................................................................................................... 8

Article by Myfy Walster-Jones and Suesara Nelson .....................................8
Monologue by Rohie.......................................................................................9
Q&A with the Author ......................................................................................9
Monologue by Elizabeth ...............................................................................10
Q&A with the Author ....................................................................................10
The Reading Challenge................................................................................. 11

Article by Annelies Day, Rohan McCallion and Sophie Ries........................11
Student Work ...............................................................................................12

Review by Sidney Rios................................................................................12
Review by Filip Kovacevic ..........................................................................12
Review by Sophia Ferrari ...........................................................................13
Teach For a Day ........................................................................................... 14
Article by Jorgia Watson, Elizabeth Kingston and Rohan McCallion. ..........14
Charlotte and Aimee.....................................................................................14
Suesara and Myfy .........................................................................................15
Jorgia and Evie ..............................................................................................15
Poetry.......................................................................................................... 16
Article by Oliver Marter-Heath and Samuel Clark .........................................16
Analysis by Aimee Bowers ............................................................................17
Persuasive Report Activity ........................................................................... 19
Created by Charlotte McCullen..................................................................19


NAPLAN ....................................................................................................... 20
Article by Kourtney Cummings and Chloe Corfe ...........................................20
Student Response .........................................................................................20

Historical Narratives .................................................................................... 21
Responding to Grease...................................................................................21
Danny Zuko by Lance Ocampo ...................................................................21
Sandy Olsson by Chloe Corfe .....................................................................21
Patty Simcox by Kourtney Cummings.........................................................22
Frenchy by Evie Williams ...........................................................................22
Student Historical Narratives ........................................................................23
Miette by Myfy Walster-Jones ...................................................................23
Undercover by Jewel Pivac ........................................................................28
Dirt, Blood and Fire by Hayden Schwinkowski ...........................................31

Teen Films ................................................................................................... 33
Article by Jewel Pivac, Kelsey Siezcka, Isabelle Miller, Phoebe Boyd,
Savannah Coupland, ..................................................................................33

Transition to Year 10.................................................................................... 34
Article by Lance Ocampo and Filip Kovacevic.............................................35

A Letter from Mrs Adams............................................................................. 37
Thankyou and Goodbye ............................................................................... 38



Hello and welcome to “We Speak English” 9.01 AE edition 2018.
Throughout your reading you will learn all about the assignments and
tasks that 9.01 completed. You will gain an insight into the joy and
sadness they experienced while completing the tasks and laugh and cry
along with them. The assignments ranged from film trailers, to
monologues, to a reading challenge which most students didn’t find
challenging at all.
As always, we thank you for choosing “We Speak English” and we hope
you enjoy your reading.



Persuasiveness in English

Article by Aimee Bowers, Charlotte McCullen, Sidney Rios and Sylvia Veale


At the beginning of this year our primary focus was centred on persuasive writing and
techniques, which are utilised in persuasive texts to coax one into believing certain ways
about certain topics. We were given many various examples of techniques, prompts and
assessment tasks to help improve our persuasive writing. Some of these examples would
include, a fence sitters exercise, a type of persuasive technique called AFOREST, Persuasive
writing checklists, three methods of persuasion which were ethos, pathos and logos, a
practice prompt which was about books being better than movies, a common assessment
task concerning music piracy and a persuasive based report.

Overview of Practice Tasks

During the time we focused primarily on persuasive writing we were given many different
worksheets where it helped us understand much more about persuasive writing. Fence
sitters was a worksheet where we had to provide six reasons for each prompt, three reasons
would contribute to why we agreed to the prompt and then the other three would
contribute to why we disagree with the prompt. With that we had to decide which side we
would take based on which argument we thought which was stronger. Another task which
helped improve our persuasive writing was a practice prompt concerning whether books
were better than movies, this task provided us with a quick refresh on the techniques of
persuasive writing.


Throughout the entirety of this section of English we
were taught lots of different writing techniques which
we could utilize in our writing to improve it. Two
techniques we learnt were 3 modes of three modes of
persuasion which were ethos, pathos and logos and also
AFOREST. Ethos, pathos and logos are used to appeal to
certain audiences based on what they are mostly
convinced by. Ethos is an appeal towards ethics and
most often uses credible evidence from people who
specialise in that sort of field and or famous people.
Pathos is an appeal towards emotion and tries to attain
an emotional response to convince audiences. Logos is
an appeal towards logic and uses facts and statistics to
persuade audiences.


AFOREST is an acronym of techniques which you can use and apply to your writing to

improve it and make it typically more interesting to read. This contributed to our persuasive
writing because it took us back and helped us analyse our writing more effectively by giving
us guidelines of what we should add into our persuasive writing.

Music Piracy

The music piracy persuasive essay was the first assessment task we were given in 2018. Our
prompt was: “Music piracy is a significant issue in our technology driven society. Write a
persuasive essay where you present a convincing argument about this topic.”
The task was to write the essay within 55 minutes during class about whether you agreed or
disagreed with music piracy. In preparation for the assessment we were given time in class
to research things about the topic and outline our three main arguments for what we
thought about music piracy. We then created essays using TEEL paragraphs and trying to
incorporate persuasive techniques to convince the reader to agree with us.



Article by Myfy Walster-Jones and Suesara Nelson

Why are monologues important?

The monologues that we created were part of the ‘Find Your Voice’ unit studied in Term

o Monologues expose the inner thoughts of a specific character that we may or may
not know through other perspectives.

o They make speeches less confronting because you can change the perspective of the

Features of Monologues

• Monologues are delivered by a solo performer, with no conversation from another
actor, like a speech or an explanation.

• Examples of great monologue writers include Shakespeare, Anton Chekhov, Arthur
miller and Sarah Kane.

• Interior monologue: where a character externalizes their thoughts, so that the
audience can experience his internal thoughts. (stream of consciousness)

• Dramatic monologue: where a character speaks to the silent listener, revealing their
story and characteristics without the help of side characters

Aims of the Assessment

• To explore different writing styles
• Look at how perspective can change a story
• To learn and educate more about a political issue we feel is important
• Create the form of a dramatic monologue


• We learned ways to engage the reader such as incorporating figurative language and
sensory detail. These allow the piece of writing to be more emotional and allows the
setting to be revealed throughout the monologue.

• Lessons on how to compose a statement of intent or ‘FLAPC’.
• A practise monologue homework task to get feedback before the formal assessment.
• Monologue checklist: to make sure we were writing in the right perspective, make

sure the monologue intertwined with our chosen social issue.

Final assessment

Through this task, members of our class produced unique, figurative and extremely different
versions of monologues. This emphasises the creativity that we can produce when we put
our mind to it.


Monologue by Rohie

I open my eyes. Sun light floods the room. I turn my head ever so slightly and gaze out the
Window to see a beautiful garden, the morning dew glistening on every plant. I hear the
birds singing their morning chorus, the harmonious sound traveling to my ears. I smell the
beautiful aroma of my wife’s cooking. I go to sit up, but I can’t move. I am paralysed from
the chest down. Pain ignites like a blazing bonfire burning me to the core. It travels to every
corner of my body. Electric currents course through me. But how I wish it was electrocution
that at least is an instant death.
I look out the window again. The garden is less vibrant. The birds’ song
turns into singular clashing melodies. The aroma of my wife’s cooking makes me feel
nauseous. The world has lost its beauty. Before me lies a line of white pills. I take them all at
once with a glass of water, trying not to choke as they travel down my oesophagus. Now I
am waiting for the drugs to kick in. The pain is immense. Slowly but surely it eases as the
morphine activates in my system. I trade
my clear head for a morphine haze. With each pill I take, I feel my humanity slipping away. I
need to be set free.
I inhale, my chest rises fitfully as I try to supply oxygen to my dying lungs. With each breath I
take, my body is wracked with pain. Every second I drown as my lungs fill with cancerous
fluid. Drowning would be a good fate. It’s only a couple of minutes of panic when you can’t
breathe, then your lungs start to fill up and calm washes over you before you die. But I’m
trapped in the panic stage. I’ve been here for months. Never quite reaching the calm of
I long for release.
I’m greeted by the Silver Chain nurse. She wears blue gloves and smells of soap and
disinfectant mixed with the subtle fragrance of rose. She leans forward and removes the
plaster that covers the tube that is connected to my lungs. My lungs get drained everyday
now. I watch as the bag fills with the fluid that is killing me. As the fluid drains from my
lungs, I feel the momentary relief as my breath comes easier. The feeling of drowning
becoming less. But as the fluid drains away topic, so does my dignity. I can no longer look
after myself. I hate this feeling of helplessness…

Q&A with the Author

Why did you choose this subject?
Because it’s a debated.
What were some of the challenges of writing a monologue?
Using sensory detail and figurative language as well as writing within the word limit.
Why did you choose your characters perspective (age, job, against or for)?
I thought it was a supposedly realistic situation, which tried to evoke emotions in the reader
to persuade them to see my view point.
How would you overcome this issue?
That’s a bit hard but I’d fly to the Netherlands where its legal and get a lethal injection
because I don’t want to be suffering from a terminal illness.
What is your favourite form of writing?
A report because it’s factual and you don’t have to use persuasive language.


Monologue by Elizabeth

I wrapped my cloak tighter around me as the icy wind cut through the sheets of rain.
I try to wipe water from my face with a piece of fabric, but the continued storm had soaked
everything dry on me. I sit in silence as I wait for Jack to appear from behind the corner of
the building. I saw him head in this direction and after studying his favourite places to rob
his victims I assumed he would arrive. I breathe in the smell of the rain, it relaxes me, but at
the same time makes me more alert of my surroundings. I hear footsteps coming from the
alley below. The slow splash of boots on water indicates that he has finally arrived. The knife
he had been carrying around with him had been sharpened overnight. Unlike usual it could
probably pierce trough the muscle of someone very easily when thrust towards them. The
drops of water landing on the knife glittered in the dim light of a nearby street lamp. The
polished edge had the reflection of Jacks grim face etched into it. His lips curl into a crooked
smile as he notices an unaccompanied person walk by. They seemed annoyed at this
whether. Their brow is furrowed, and they are muttering something under their breath. Jack
walks up behind them, they do not hear him over the sounds of water splashing over the
ground. He takes the knife in his hand and places it in front of their throat. Jacks arm wraps
around their waist, keeping them in position.

The other person freezes. Their eyes widen in shock and they stiffen up. Seeing them side by
side I realise how intimidating Joe must be to people. Jack’s large physique towers over
people his and hefty muscular frame makes this aggressive man all the more terrifying. Jack
takes a few steps back, keeping a tight hold of the victim as he did so. He twists his arm,
flinging the other against the wall. The body hits the wall with a large thump, accompanies
the grim sound of cracking bones.
Jack places the knife back over their throat. His face is now inches away from that of the
person being preyed upon. Their whole body was shaking. It could have passed as a result of
the cold except for the fact of the blatant fear within their eyes……

Q&A with the Author

Why did you choose this subject?
Because I had already written something very similar and thought that it fit with the topic,
so I rewrote it changing a few details.
What were some challenges of writing a monologue?
I procrastinated a lot!
Why did you choose your characters perspective (age, job, against or for)?
I already wrote it and I changed who was murdering who.
How would you overcome this issue?
I probably would’ve reported it.


The Reading Challenge

Article by Annelies Day, Rohan McCallion and Sophie Ries

What was the
Reading Challenge?

This task was a year long project
about extending our
understanding of books. This
was achieved by reading as
many books as possible from
categories outside of what we
would commonly read. Then
reviewing and responding to
these books creatively. We were
challenged to read books from
twenty-four different categories
and write short reviews on each
book and reading
comprehension tasks to further
our understanding of narrative.

Most reviewed book:

Looking for Alaska
By John Green was reviewed by
the most students and listed
under a range of categories.

Popular opinions:

Follow The Rabbit Proof Fence
by Doris Pilkington Garimara was
read by the whole class but
wasn’t very popular-at all.

As we read this book as a class. Everyone has read this book and most of us have reviewed
it. The most popular opinion when asked about this book is that not many people enjoyed
this book at all and found the narrative arc was slow to build tension, although the subject
matter was important.


Student Work

Review by Sidney Rios
The Diary of a Young Girl Anne Frank

By: Anne Frank (Edited by Otto H. Frank and Mirjam

This famous novel of a diary is primarily written by a young
German girl, Anne Frank, who is going into maturity and
writes about the two years she, her family and four others
went into hiding from the war occupation of Netherland
that dragged her religion in. This entertaining book is full of
mysteries and provides many teachings and advice on life. I
enjoyed reading how they spoke at that time and what
Anne wrote, it created a way for me to explore different
ways writers write. I relished the days Anne wrote about in
her diary, it expressed a variety of emotions she felt. I also
liked how trustworthy and confident she wrote to her diary,
it made me feel as if she was talking to me in person. I
recommend this book to a mature audience aged 14 and
above who find historical biographies highly amusing.

Review by Filip Kovacevic

Follow the Rabbit-Proof Fence (1995)

By Doris Pilkington

This novel follows the lives aboriginal sisters,
Gracie, Molly and Daisy- who were part of
the "Stolen Generation" that have been
separated from their families by the harsh
Australian Government as part of the White
Australia Policy. The young girls then decide
to leave the mini-camp and quickly come
across the rabbit-proof fence an innovative
idea running through Western Australia, until
they found the end/an opening. This book is
one of the most popular novels written by an
Indigenous author and makes the reader
have a real urge to finish (eager). I do not
recommend this book to readers who are
sensitive to this topic, but in the same token I
do recommend this book to readers who are
intrigued about this cruel part of Australia's
history and also enjoy comparing film and
novels (film adapted-2002)


Review by Sophia Ferrari
Simon vs. The Homo Sapiens Agenda, Becky Albertalli
Recommended by Sophie Catchpole

In this era of a progressing society, it's hardly believable
that there are very few age-appropriate, influential books
that circle around a character who is LGTBQ+.
Love, Simon (Or, Simon vs. The Homo Sapiens Agenda) is
about a high schooler who is perfectly normal, besides
one thing- He's gay, which though isn't explicitly
ostracised within his any of his social groups, is certainly a
subject that people tend to avoid.
I think the best thing about Love, Simon is the fact that he
isn't a gay guy, he's just a kid who's gay. A lot of books
base a character's entire profile around the fact that
they're gay. Simon has a life outside of his sexuality, where
he has friends, commitments, and anguishes, just like
anybody else. Love, Simon reveals the opposition against
being gay, and yet insists that it should be normalised-
that it is hardly something to be too upset over.
Simon is written with modern-era trains of thought. He is
an enjoyable character to project yourself on, since there
are few books that write teenagers in such a relatable

The Teacher’s Perspective

“I feel that the challenge presented an interesting way for students to explore new genres. It
was great to see students reading content out of their comfort zone. I was most impressed
that students worked hard on the challenge throughout the year and really tried to stretch
themselves to discover new works.” – Mrs Adams


Completing this challenge gave us a greater understanding of genre. The range of
techniques applied in order to achieve a certain genre. The importance of characters when
looking at the story’s message. Recognising techniques and messages within novels. The
importance of a SOLID storyline and much more.

I believe that doing this reading challenge benefitted everyone in their own ways. Some may
have found a new genre that they like. Some simply developed a higher level of reading
comprehension. Others were just given an initiative to read. And some even managed to
get a better grasp on what would be required in ATAR literature. Allowing people to have a
better idea if and what ATAR English class they would like to take part in the future.


Teach For a Day

Article by Jorgia Watson, Elizabeth Kingston and Rohan McCallion.


This task was optional for students; they could complete this in pairs or individual. It was

held on a Thursday of the students choosing. There were three groups, Aimee and

Charlotte, Suesara and Myfy, and Jorgia and Evie. These students offered different topics

including creative writing, a game show on pop culture and film studies on the MCU (Marvel

Cinematic Universe). In these topics we learnt new things and had some fun!

Charlotte and Aimee

These two girls gave the class a writing
prompt, ‘You are in Ikea and reading a
furniture name and accidentally summon a
demon’, and then had the whole class
create one big story! The students were
split into three groups, illustrators, writers
and editors. The illustrators drew some
cool stuff that went along with the plot the
writers came up with and the editors wrote
the final copy on a scroll.

Here are some reviews:

“It started off great, but then it went
quickly downhill. The idea was great.” –
Sophie Ries.

“It was fun.” – Sophia Ferrari.

“It was educational and fun, although I think it was hard to
get everyone involved at times. It really taught a lot about
team work and group productivity, in order to complete a
task in a set time limit.” – Sophie Catchpole.


Suesara and Myfy

The class certainly had fun with Suesara’s and
Myfy’s class ‘game show’ on pop culture. The
class was once again pitted against each
other as we were split into four teams; we
went head to head and came out with two
winners. The captains, Charlotte and Jewel,
were very proud of their teams when they
won sweets!

Here’s what people thought:
“It was good, but confusing.” – Chloe Corfe.

“It was fun and different to our normal classwork.” – Sophie Catchpole.

“The lesson presented an innovative opportunity for students to demonstrate their
communication and teamwork skills through a game-based lesson.” - Mrs Adams.

Jorgia and Evie

This informative lesson had a bit more work than the other 2
lessons as there were sheets to fill out and homework. This
lesson on film started with a quiz on the Marvel Universe then
discussed the techniques that films use and the set homework
task gave students an opportunity to give an opinion on an
Australian matter, the name change of the Etihad Stadium to
the Marvel Stadium.

This is what people thought:
“I learned much more than the other ones and it was on a topic
that was fun to talk about.” – Sophia Ferrari.

“We got to watch snippets of movies, which was really cool,
and she managed to keep the class quiet when she wanted.” –
Annelies Day.

“The quiz was very appealing to the students in the class.” –
Rohie McCallion.

This was certainly a fun experience for the 9 A.E class, we wrote stories, we kept up with
Gen Z and we studied films. We laughed, we learned, and we all had fun!



Article by Oliver Marter-Heath and Samuel Clark In Mrs Tilscher’s Class

Introduction Carol Anne Duffy

One of, if not our main focus for Term Three, was You could travel up the Blue Nile
poetry. Learning the ins and outs was going to be a with your finger, tracing the route
slight challenge for some, but a breeze for other. while Mrs Tilscher chanted the scenery
With a lot of poetic devices, and fancy new terms to Tana. Ethiopia. Khartoum. Aswan.
remember, it was setting itself up to be one of the That for an hour, then a skittle of milk
most gruelling subjects to tackle, ever. and the chalky Pyramids rubbed into dust.
A window opened with a long pole.
The Task The laugh of a bell swung by a running child.

Our assessment for poetry was to analyse a poem, This was better than home. Enthralling books.
In Mrs. Tilscher’s Class by Carol Anne Duffy, and The classroom glowed like a sweetshop.
then to write an essay on it. Our essay needed to Sugar paper. Coloured shapes. Brady and
identify three poetic devices and to explain how Hindley faded, like a faint uneasy smudge of a
they were used in that poem and the effects they mistake.
had on the reader. For some this would be the most Mrs Tilscher loved you. Some mornings, you
difficult thing they’d ever done at school, and they found she’d left a good gold star by your name.
would dread to complete it, and procrastinate, but The scent of a pencil, slowly, carefully, shaved.
others, would breeze through it. I personally A xylophone’s nonsense heard from another
struggled. form.

Course Work Over the Easter term, the inky tadpoles
changed from commas into exclamation marks.
During the course of the topic, leading up to the Three frogs hopped in the playground, freed by
assessment, we had been given many practice a dunce, followed by a line of kids, jumping and
poems, and even had to write one of our own, a croaking away from the lunch queue.
teen themed poem. We also had memorised many A rough boy told you how you were born. You
terms and done many Pearson activities. T’was such kicked him, but stared at your parents,
an unforgiving grind. appalled, when you got back home.

Summary That feverish July, the air tasted of electricity.
A tangible alarm made you always untidy, hot,
Poetry was one of the most disliked and dreaded fractious under the heavy sexy sky.
topics this year, at least in the eyes of my male class You asked her how you were born and Mrs
mates. We even nick named it poo-etry, a crude yet Tilscher smiled, then turned away.
effective way to express our dislike for the topic. Reports were handed out. You ran through the
Although the guys didn’t like it, I know some of the gates, impatient to be grown,
girls did, so at least someone enjoyed it right? As the sky split open into a thunderstorm.


Analysis by Aimee Bowers

The transition from childhood to
adulthood can often be a challenging
and confusing time. Scottish poet Carol
Ann Duffy portrays many of these
challenges in her poem “In Mrs
Tilscher’s Class” through the use of
poetic conventions. Poets use an array
of different conventions in their texts
to position the audience to respond in
different ways. Carol Ann Duffy utilised
these conventions through the
structure of her poem by using
similarly sized stanzas and lots of full
stops, which created a consistency and narrative feeling throughout; the use of figurative
language and lastly, she uses the child’s point of view to further integrate the theme of
growing up.

The first conventions which are identified by the reader are structure and punctuation.
Through the use of stanzas with a similar larger line count, Carol Ann Duffy made the poem
feel more like a narrative. The larger stanzas achieved the “poetic-narrative” vibe by evenly
spacing each time frame, making the individual stanzas into small chapters. Frequently and
strategically placed full stops helped to slow down the flow of words, which created a
calmer text to read aloud. This further emphasised the child-like innocence, as a child
absorbs everything slowly, and only really cares about the good things directly related to
them. As the poem proceeds toward the final stanza (octave) the full stops become scarcer,
this makes you read faster and the rhythm changes. Duffy may have done this to peel away
the innocence of the poem, which is also achieved with a second poetic convention-
figurative language.

The second convention which conveys emotion to the reader in Carol Ann Duffy’s poem “In
Mrs Tilscher’s Class” is the use of figurative language. The entire poem is similar to Walt


Whitman’s “Oh Captain my Captain” in the sense that it is an extended metaphor. In
Whitman’s poem, the captain represents the Americans’ recently assassinated president
(recent at the time which the poem was written). Whereas in Duffy’s poem phrases such as,
“… tadpoles changed from commas into exclamation marks” and “… chalky pyramids rubbed
into dust” are used to further emphasise the theme of growing up. The first being the frogs
growing from small tadpoles-commas, into the loud adult frogs-exclamation marks to
represent the growth of an adolescent. And in the second phrase about chalky pyramids
being rubbed to dust, the pyramids are a vivid representation of the child-like innocence,
literally being smashed to smithereens as the eraser rubs them into dust. The use of
figurative language is important as it helps to entail that the point of view is that of a child.

The final convention Carol Ann Duffy used in her poem “In Mrs Tilscher’s Class” was point of
view. The point of view that the poem is expressed from (in this case it is a child) is
important as it also helps to convey the purpose and theme of the poem to adult readers.
That theme is about the feelings and topics in society that a child chooses to focus on and
how they change as the child grows up. The purpose of the poem is to remind the reader of
what it was like to be a kid, and how enthralling it was to grow up. This enthrallment is
shown in the first stanza in which a child is stating how fascinating it was to trace the Blue
Nile, and then in the second stanza mentioning a sweetshop, to show how fun and
enlightening everything was as a child-including school. However, as the reader reaches the
final two stanzas the child’s view on the world changes dramatically as puberty comes along
and destroys their innocence, they now take interest in the less innocent side of life and are
at first quite disgusted, but later can’t wait to be an adult.

The purpose and theme of this poem-conveyed through the use of a child’s point of view-
create a vivid image for the reader, making it possible for them to re-live what it was like to
grow up. In summary, poetic conventions are in important tool for writers to use in order to
effectively convey emotion to their audience. The main poetic conventions used in Duffy’s
poem “In Mrs Tilscher’s Class” were structure, which included the length of stanzas and the
frequency of full stop placement; figurative language, remembering the poem is an
extended metaphor-similarly to Whitman’s “Oh Captain my Captain”; and lastly, theme and
purpose which was conveyed through the use of a child’s point of view.


Persuasive Report Activity


o Racism The Task:
o Terrorism
o Drugs This year we had to create a report that explored a chosen social issue. This task was
o Anxiety one of the most meaningful projects we did this year as it allowed us to branch off
o Fracking and look in depth into our ideas. It gave us an opportunity to be individuals and be
o Abortion creative, while still sticking to structure and trying to be persuasive.
o University Fees
o Homelessness The reports had a maximum word limit of 1000 which was quite a struggle for some
o Rebel Wilson of our classmates who like to write pages and pages to express their ideas; this
o Underage Drinking forced them to be concise. It may seem as though this task was pretty free flowing,
o Caesarean which it was, but it was also a task built on structure. We had to work hard to
o Pay Equality thoroughly research our ideas before we put pen to paper.
o Euthanasia
o LGBT We also had to later turn our reports into oral presentations to read to the class, I
o Obesity feel this was a great opportunity for everyone to practice life skills and do something
o Beaumont Children that they may not have done before, found confronting or were a bit scared to do.
o William Tyrrell But It eased everyone knowing that AE is a safe space.
o Equality
o Vaccinations On the left are some of the social issues that were touched by the students in the AE
o Depression class, you can find these words in the above word search.

Created by Charlotte McCullen



Article by Kourtney Cummings and Chloe Corfe


The National Assessment Program – Literacy and Numeracy (NAPLAN) is an annual
national assessment for all students in Years 3, 5, 7, and 9. All students in these year
levels are expected to participate in tests in reading, writing, language conventions
(spelling, grammar and punctuation) and numeracy. All government and non-
government education authorities have contributed to the development of NAPLAN

Student Response

A study performed by both Chloe and I on the 4th of December this year, was to ask our Year
9 class, who had been through the whole NAPLAN study and test procedures, three simple
questions. We asked around for people to rate these three questions from 1 (being very
little and strongly disagree) to 5 (being a lot and strongly agree). The following graph below
is the study’s results.

How stressful was NAPLAN for you?

123 4 5

Is it a good method to determine your education ability? 4 5

Do you agree with NAPLAN? Do you believe it should be a test for the whole of Australia for
the upcoming years to come?

1234 5



Historical Narratives


To prepare for writing our historical narratives we learned about context and how the
setting of a character defines their attitudes and values. To understand this concept
better, we watched the film Grease and considered characterisation. After this activity
we were then able to start researching a period of history and find an image that
inspired a story.

Responding to Grease

Our class was asked to think about the different
characters, the setting and the plot from the film and what
we felt was realistic or fictional. We were then asked to
select a character and answer two questions:

1. Choose one of the following characters and describe
three things you identified about them and explain
whether this was realistic or not. You might consider their
relationships, their behaviours, attitudes, physical dress,
speech or other aspects you identified.

2. What was different about the character's education to
how your own school experience has been?

Danny Zuko by Lance Ocampo
Danny Zuko’s outfit seemed very realistic because it made him looked like an actual
gangster in the 50’s with his black, awesome looking leather jacket and gelled up black
hair. How Danny talked felt like it was set in the 1950’s because of his New Jersey
accent. Danny’s attitude made him a very realistic
gangster in the 50’s because he had a ‘bad boy’ attitude.
The only thing that was different about Danny’s education
was that he had a cigarette behind his ear at school and he
was also smoking in school grounds which is a bit
different to Kalamunda, a bit.

Sandy Olsson by Chloe Corfe
Sandy’s character seemed very realistic, as she was
nervous starting at a new school, and coming from
Australia, the accent was realistic as it was very different
to the other American accents we often hear in movies.


Sandy seemed that she wanted to make a good
impression when she started at the school, by joining the
cheerleading team and going out. The education at the
school seemed quite different to what I have experienced,
as it is based in the 1950s and was also based upon
student in their last year of school.

Patty Simcox by Kourtney Cummings

When analysing Patty, you will quickly notice her obvious
'good girl' attitude which also puts Rizzo and the other
pink ladies 'off'. This attitude is very relatable to the 50's
over achievers in school and the positive mental attitude
that inspires them to be 'the best in class' can really put
you in the 50's. Her relationship with the pink girls, who
are seen in the movie as 'cool and popular girls' which can
be proven by the line Rizzo says to the other girls, saying
they were going to be the big girls now, can state that the
two stereotypical groups weren't seen as those who mix
well together. This is often true to the school atmosphere in the 1950's. These features
are incredibly realistic to those times.
The difference in Patty Simcox's education to mine, doesn't change often in the fact that
she always tries to work hard and applies her positive attitude to making new friends
and new possibilities. Other than that, Patty does have this off and on influence on
other's mental attitude when boasting about her achievements in school and when she
cracks it when she is not 'perfect'. She is an incredibly hard-working student at Rydell
High School. I guess I could say that I try hard to achieve goals similar to Patty, but I do
not find us similar in being perfectly neat in the clothes she wears at her school, or the
friends she makes who are also perfectly dressed. Another difference I had found with
Patty and I's school experience, was that she had put her friends in the shadow of her
own self, and she also confines herself with making friends with only people of 'good
standards' (in her terms anyway).

Frenchy by Evie Williams
I thought Frenchie as a character was realistic to the
time period. For example, her outfits fitted perfectly to
the time period the movie was aiming for. The fact that
she wanted to become a beautician was accurate as well
because of the fact that in the 1950's and 60's,
beauticians were in high demand because of their ability
to dye hair, hence her pink hair.

Frenchie's school experience would have been very
different to that of my own because of the different time
periods and the fact that this movie was set in America
and the American education system is very different to
ours in Australia.


Student Historical Narratives

Miette by Myfy Walster-Jones

20th January 1793

Miette presses her back against the rough brick
wall. A rouge stone digging into her spine. A soft,

homely smell wafts around the corner of the wall,
her stomach rumbles and she licks her lips. She
hears a low mumbling voice talking to a familiar
one. Miette peeps her head around the corner to see

the back of a large man wearing a stained apron,
covered in flour. On the other side of him stood a
little boy with tears rolling down his face. Miette
smirked to herself because she knew they were not

real tears as she had been the one to splatter water

on the boy's freckled face.

“Please sir I don’t know where my Mére is” he Myfy's selected image: The guillotine blade
wailed that beheaded Marie Antoinette.

The older man awkwardly crouched down to his size and started asking questions
about where he saw her last. As soon as the baker was in a position of being incapable
to follow her, Miette crept out of her hiding space and filled her pinafore with all
different kinds of pastries – baked and arranged into woven baskets just this morning.
She gave her brother the thumbs up over the man’s shoulder and started to back up. She
could feel the smooth stone path through her thin shoes until it turned uneven. Like she
was standing on something. She turns around to see another shoe, beneath her own. A
shoe with a leg attached. Her eyes follow the leg to the rest of the body to see the baker’s
wife. Her hands stiffly gripping her hips, her face as red as a rose and an ugly grimace
painted across her face. The ladies shadow looms over Miette. Before the angered

woman could do anything, Miette lifted her leg and kicked the woman in the knee.

“OW MERDE! Jacque get them!”

Miette called out to her brother, “Ansel run!”

His big brown eyes widened as he ducked the baker's arm and sprinted into the crowd

of rich people milling about the marketplace- disappearing through the fancy petticoat
silks of women gossiping about the king and beggars pleading for food or money. The
woman grabbed at Miette, getting the fabric of her collar. Squirming out of her grip,
Miette slid through the bakers’ legs and pushes him over- face first into the pathway to

then follow after her brother, hearing the shouts of the adults shouting out to her.


“Cheese and bread anyone?” Miette says as she and Ansel enter the doorway. Their two
little sisters got up from their chalk and drawings on the floor and gather around the
older siblings.


“Here you go Amelie, Giselle,” she said as she passes the two girls tar tatins into their
small hands.

“Ansel, can you please set them up on the table? Merci”

Miette made her way through their tiny cottage to an old door with her little sister’s art,
decorating the bottom of it. It was slightly ajar.

“Mére? Can I come in?”

A grunt comes from the other side of the door and Miette enters the room.

“Mére? I have bread and pastries if you want something to eat? Do you need a drink of
water? Mére?”

The room was humid and made Miette’s clothes stick to her. It was dark, and she could
barely see her mother lying on her bed, twisted in a thin and dirty bed sheet.

“You could have been caught.” “You should not steal Miette.”

“But Mére if I do not, we will starve”

“Then sell another of my necklaces you know where they are”

“I have, there's none left -if you could just get up and find work or...”

Miette’s mother slowly removes a damp cloth from her forehead and throws it at her

Miette flinches as it hits her in the stomach

“Mére please eat something,” she says as she picks the cloth up from the dusty floor and
offers her mother bread.

Her mother sits up and grabs the food from Miette and takes a bite before everything in
her stomach finds a way out and into a pail next to the bed. Miette looks away as she
hears the awful noises coming out of her mother.

“See, I ate.” “ Don’t steal anymore- finish what you’ve taken and don’t do it again…

You can starve after all it was your fault that your father died”

Miette’s throat tightens, and she takes a deep breath.

“Mére you cannot say that I didn’t…”

The sickly thin women shot up from her lying position in the bed like an arrow and took
an unlit candlestick from the rickety old side table and hurled it at Miette.


Her mother's body thrashed around in the sheets and she screamed and shouted,
tossing more things at Miette as she quickly scrambled out the way and left the room
closing the door behind her.



January 21st 1793

“Miette, Miette wake up!”

Miette quickly rolled up from her blanket and pillow on the floor to a crouch and braced
herself for anything to be on fire or for objects to fly through the window.

“Miette look!”

And that she did. She could see her three siblings all huddled up onto the meagre
kitchen bench to reach a window almost covered in grime. One of Giselle's legs dangled
onto the stovetop. Merely a four-year-old; she knew no better. Miette walked over to the
children and gathered Giselle closer to Amelie. Miette was tall enough to reach the
window without having to precariously climb onto anything and saw her reflection in
the sooty window. One plait had become undone throughout the night, she could see
dark circles under her eyes and her cheekbones looked more protruding than they did
the last time she'd seen them. She vigorously wiped at the window to get rid of the
reflection and gaped out the window. A stream of people flowed through the street.
Some were walking with purpose and others looked rattled. -Most of them were the
latter. The last remaining people ran past the window, but something was off. It was like
they were running from something.

A loud bang sounded from across the road and Miette pressed her face against the
window- trying to see further than the window showed. She could just make out a group
of blurry figures pouring through their neighbour's door.

“Get down now.”

“But Miette we want to see…”

“Get down.”

The three got down from the bench and stood behind their sister

“Miette what’s happening?”


Everything was quiet in the house-even quieter out on the street.

Miette’s hair prickled at the back of her neck and she slowly walked back to the window,
holding her breath. Nothing.

Suddenly, a woman holding her baby ran past, screaming bloody murder. Exhaling
shakily, she peered out and saw a group of men and women coming out the running
ladies house-coming towards her own.

“Get in the cupboard, everyone in the cupboard!”

Amelie, Giselle, Ansel and Miette ran to the back of the room to a rickety old cupboard-
just big enough to fit them all. The two four-year-olds, Amelie and Giselle, squished in
the bottom of the space and


Ansel stood on the right side waiting for Miette to join them.

Miette looked down at her family. A large banging could be heard at the door.


She quickly gave her siblings a kiss on each of their foreheads and closed the cupboard
despite their cries.

She rushed over to the only other room in the house and twisted the knob bursting into
the room.

A shiver rolled up Miette’s spine and goosebumps appeared on her arms. It was cold.
She felt something grip her stomach like she was going to throw up. A thick smell hung
in the air. The perfume of a person she knew too well. Someone who had visited.


She slowly walked to her mother's side and touched her arm. It was as cold as marble.
Sliding her fingers down her mother's arm to her wrist, hoping to find a flutter like a
butterfly's wings, barely aware of the thumps coming from the other room but of
course, nothing was there. Feeling as she was going actually going to be sick, she turned
around to see her siblings standing at the door.

“Is Mére ok?”

Miette quickly shuffled them into the other room to see the front door finally give in.

Everything was a blur as the shouting adults forced them out of the house and into the
street. Miette suspected these people were revolutionists. She held on to her sibling's
hands as they followed the crowds to Place de la Révolution.

Miette knew her siblings were trying to talk to her, but she could hear nothing. The
revolutionists obviously wanted people to watch something that was about to happen in
the square. People were moving and shoving, and she was having a hard time keeping
her family together.

All of a sudden, a hush fell over the masses and Miette looked behind her and saw a line
of large men creating a barrier, so no one could leave. She peered over the shorter
people standing in front of her and saw a raised stage with a large contraption on it. A
small tug came from the end of her skirt and she looked down to see the confused and
frightened faces of her two sisters and brother.

“What’s happening Miette?”

“What can you see sœur?”

A drumming rumbled through the air and Miette could see the top of bayonets marching
through the crowd on the left of her.

The people holding the rifles ascended the stairs and she saw they were guiding
someone. The large man stood behind the scary device on the scaffolding. The steady
drumming stopped as the man addressed the hundreds of thousands of people filling
the square.


"My people, I die innocent!"

He then bent down towards the machine and anticipation rippled through the bodies
around Miette.

They had been pushed closer to the stage- close enough that the smaller kids could see.

The man looked up at the people in pure desperation

"Gentlemen, I am innocent of everything of which I am accused. I hope that my blood
may cement the good fortune of the French."

And then a blade fell from the heavens and sliced through his neck and into a basket.

Miette screamed. The little ones screamed.

A tall pale man lifted the basket up and showed the crowd. The decapitated head’s
tongue rolled out its mouth.

Her siblings still screaming she picked the two girls up and told Ansel to follow her. She
hurriedly shouldered through the mass, tears wetting the back of her dress from Amelie
and Giselle. Miette looked back to check if her brother was following and saw he was
white as a sheet. She started to realise people we shouting and throwing their hands in
the air. The human barrier was distracted by their celebrations that they didn’t see the
children leave.

Jogging back home, Miette felt a wave of anxiety pass over her.

What was in store for them in the future now that they were orphans?

How would they survive?

Who was the man they killed?

As they reached the entry of their now door-less house she could still hear the chants
coming from the square.

"Vive la Nation! Vive la République!"

"Vive la Nation! Vive la République!"

French words Place de la Révolution
The square where King Louis was
Mére executed
Mum or Mother for small children Sœur
Merde Sister
An exclamation of surprise or a Vive la Nation! Vive la République
swearword Long live the Nation! Long live the
Faucheuse Republic
The reaper


Undercover by Jewel Pivac

An opportunity, a glance. An American officer strides up
to me. My heart rate quickens, my breaths deepen. I’d
first seen the posters as one had blown across the
muddy cobblestone road. By chance, the face that was
plastered all over the streets was the same as mine,
exactly the same. The American army has been
searching for a soldier, for me, to send back to the
Nazi’s main concentration camp, an apparent paradise
for Jews. Auschwitz. We all have our suspicions on what
happens in there. There’s been reports of strange
smells coming from the tall brick chimneys.
My thoughts are cut off as the man shoves a soaking
wet, dirty poster into my chest. I feel a dry papery hand
tighten around my upper arm and before I know it, he
drags me off to an alley between two factories, to
shelter us from the pelting rain. “You see this man?”
Booms the huge officials voice, I manage a small nod,
there’s no lying, I’m terrified! “I’ll need you to come with me, young boy.” I think of
protesting, but it’s no use, he was already a yard ahead of me by the time my train of
thought has ended. So, I follow him like a dog would his master. Besides, what would
people think of young 23-year-old German-born Peter protesting with a US army officer
in the middle of the streets? I proceed and climb up into the bulletproof steel grey
military vehicle, my mind alive with vivid imaginations of why a man like me may have
become ever so critical for the army.

We arrive at the office and my torn coat is taken off and I am handed an officer’s suit, a
garrison cap and a multitude of badges. The luxurious green material slides into my
hands and I grip onto it so tightly my knuckles begin to turn white, as if to stop myself
from becoming ill, I feel so nervous; almost as if to make this seem real. The officer
introduces himself as Sir H. Wilson but told me I could call him Harold, a secret
operations unit’s recruitment officer. He proceeds to explain to me how I was born in
Germany, in family of lower class, which I already knew. My parents had sent me to live
with and be raised by friends of theirs in North America, so I’d been told by my adoptive
parents. Then he begun rambling on about twins as we proceeded through a heavy-duty
metal door, and down a flight of rather steep stairs. I couldn’t quite focus on Harold’s
words though, because in the dimly lit basement was a shadowed figure, a man.
The black haze slowly dissipates as my eyes adjust to the lack of lighting, of which is
only supplied by what is an excessively hot furnace, and just as soon as I have regained
some vision, I seem to lose some feeling. Right there, collapsed on a chair, tied up and
beaten blue was me. But not me. He lifts his head and opens his mouth, he spits a rather
foul phrase in German (a language I did bother to teach myself as I thought I should at
least learn something of my birth country). Blood dribbles from his nose and a corner of
his mouth. It’s obvious he’s in pain, and that pains me. Then I see the SS badge on the
shoulder of his sweat coated suit, which makes everything become apparent to me.


A twin, two brothers, a plan. I lift my gaze and carry it across to Harold, who is arrest at
the base of the stairs. He can tell I’m confused so gives my brother a nod and opens his
mouth, “This man, has killed many innocent people, Peter. He is a bad man. A man who
rose from a firing squad to one of Himmler’s officers of highest regard. Sent here to kill
you, so we wouldn’t be able to utilise you as a spy. Supposedly the SS had believed we
wouldn’t be monitoring every entrant to the states, well of course they were wrong, yet
again. So now, you shall kill him, do the deed he was sent to do to you. Prove your
loyalty, son.” And the words flow out as if rehearsed for months. He reaches into the
inner pocket of his suit and pulls out a gun and loads it.

My feet take themselves toward him, my chance to become something bigger than a
measly office worker is now. And if that means putting a hole in my brother’s head, in a
killer’s head, if it means doing what’s right. I’ll do it. Shaking fingers fumble around the
handle of the gun, my left pointer slides up the side of the textured metallic barrel. I feel
the weight of the gun as Harold hands it to me, I immediately pace back to stand before
my brother. I take a step back, shut my eyes, inhale a deep breath of warm smoky air
and I feel my lungs soak up every bit of it. I’m not a religious man, so heaven won’t be
taken from me, but instead hell will become gifted with my counterpart. My finger slides
down and drops into place over the trigger. I exhale and tighten my grip. The gun jumps
back in my hands, and they begin to shake.

I walk back to Sir H. Wilson and he passes me my uniform. I proceed back up the stairs
and can hear the furnace door being opened upon me closing the door. Placing my feet
one in front of the other I make my way to the bathroom to change. As I peel off the
blood-stained rags of my previous life and slide into my new ones, I instantly know of
my purpose. I need to make sure that this all ends, and I’ll do whatever it takes.
At the air field the air is relatively fresh compared to that of the basement, although it is
still tinged with a scent of fuel and smoke despite the winds. I’m directed toward a
German aeroplane and as I climb in, wearing my brother’s spare uniform I was given,
the pilot, who must’ve been the one who my brother was brought here by, exclaims
“They didn’t kill you!” in a heavy German accent, “Oh, Himmler will be ever so pleased
that all went so smoothly!”

Upon arrival at Auschwitz we are greeted with many smiles and cheers, the victory
they’re celebrating is the death of me, or my brother that is. They seem human and then
behind them I see the fences, the yelling, the beating of children and adults alike to do
their work faster and better. It takes everything I have to not start yelling at all of these
men. To tell them how those people aren’t aliens, how they aren’t all bad, how a baby
couldn’t possibly have done anything deserving of being marched into a windowless
chamber with its crying mother! But I smile and shake hands. I explain how easy it was
to carry out the mission.

I receive a few pats on the back and then I see a woman, the most beautiful I’d ever seen.
Blonde haired and blue eyed, her skin as clear and smooth as a sheet of porcelain. She
smiles, her teeth reveal themselves to be as perfect to match, and then waves. I decide
that in the nature of my new position as an American spy I should find out who she may
be. I begin to run toward her and then notice two young children running from a closing
green door they shout innocent phrases which translate to “Daddy!” and “He’s home!”
with abundant excitement in their voices. And that’s when I realised that the man I


killed had been able to love, and that he’d had a wife and a family. That I’d done
something horrible. But it’s happened now, and there’s no going back. I’m here to do my
job and I’m going to do it well.
The night was awkward to say the least. I had to tell the children a German story as they
fell asleep. I’d had to watch their mother sing a song. I took up the position of their
My eyes flutter open and a bright ethereal light floods in, and I sit up. A momentary
confusion as to where I am, then I remember. I proceed to slide out of the cotton sheets,
quietly, carefully so I don’t wake her. His wife. My wife. I run down the stairs and grab
breakfast as I head out the door and set off toward the camp. Eager to find out why
millions have disappeared, their last traces being here, at Auschwitz.
I consume him, I become him. My fluent German helped in this process. However, I can’t
manage to fall in with their ideals. Learning all other than the Aryan race should die, is
hard, especially when I know that some of those others are good. After all, I work for
those others.
The office is stark. Dull cabinets line the walls, a large wooden desk sits in the centre of
the room. A stack of files sits upon it, I run my eyes over them. Kill orders. Orders for the
Jews to be gassed. Murdered. And the fine print stated “mit ihnen verbrennen” which
merely translates to “incinerate with them”.
I can’t sign these! Who could. I would be signing off on hundreds of peoples’ lives. I
won’t stand for this. Now I know the truth. I’m willing to die for it. Even if it ends up
being for nothing. Even if they end up dying.
I thrust the heavy door open, and feel the blood rush to my cheeks, I’m literally hot-
headed. I can’t help it. I break out yelling, repeating, “You can’t do this anymore!”
Everything slows down, their shouts deepen to a point where I want to laugh. The shots
start. My legs move themselves frantically. My breaths deepen, faster, faster to the point
of hyperventilation. Terror strikes me, and I feel electricity spark within. As if in shock I
fall numb, my knees buckle, and I force myself to fight it. As if I have a chance. I
should’ve known that a disloyal soldier, of any rank would be killed on the spot. The
adrenaline keeps me going, as one shot, two shots, three shots, four shots make contact.
I feel them rip through my flesh, tear through the layers. But it’s only feeling, no pain.
It’s painless. My vision, the light dims, black rims spiral inwards.
Only the struggle at the start had hurt, while I’d believed I could flee. But now I’ll fly, like
a hawk I will forever pray, upon these ghastly angels of death.
The end, no story has an end. But I won’t see this one’s. I only hope that the end is soon.
And not nearly as bad as mine. I met the same fate as my brother.
A twin fate.


Dirt, Blood and Fire by Hayden Schwinkowski

I woke up to Sergeant Newman yelling at me to take cover. All I wanted to do is hide
under my rug and go back to sleep. Earlier that night the enemy VC (Viet Cong) were
setting up an ambush. The fact of not being able to turn on my flashlight diminished one
of my senses as it was pitch black. I had to use sound to find my way through the jungle.
Our mission was to capture hill 943; it was 943 metres high. We had to get to the base
of the hill before the sun rose, or the VC would see us advancing. Not helping with the
fact that I couldn’t see was Vietnam had a whole range of tunnel systems that we called
spider holes. The VC used to hide in these then emerge and attack us. All these factors
added up to complete and utter terror. “Callum watch out for those spider holes”
warned Sergeant Newman. I kept my eyes peeled examining every twig and leaf. The
humidity started to get to me, I felt sweat dripping down my forehead. Rashes started
to appear, and insect bites littered our bodies. It’s been 9, almost 10 days since we were
deployed. We are all getting droopy with each step. Finally, we reached the base of hill
943 and we were in the mindset of we’re going to die before we even get into a battle.
“Let’s rest here boys” ordered the Sergeant. It was the best thing he had said all week.
We cleared the area of any traps or spider holes and started to set up camp. As I laid
down on my hammock, taking out my stewed tomatoes and corn bread, my mind
started to ponder. We were losing the war. Why was I here, it wasn’t a war for us to
fight? My mind finally pondered off and I fell asleep.

“Move, move, move!’' yelled the Sergeant. We couldn’t see anything through the thick
scrub of north Vietnam. “We needed to get out of here, out of this hell hole” I yelled. We
ran up away from the basin at the base of the hill and up to high ground. The VC lost our
position, so we used the time to set up a perimeter. The foot hill went silent, so quiet
that you could hear the small river a kilometre away. We stayed there for two hours
without anything happening, but then we saw movement in the far-off tree line. They
were shadows dancing in the morning light. “Open fire if they stop moving” ordered the
Sergeant. They stopped but so did my heart, “Fire!” the Sergeant yelled. I fired in their
general direction, and hope that one of the bullets would connect. “Ting,” the bullet
skimmed off my helmet. I ripped it off as I saw a red steaming streak dented on my
helmet. I said a prayer and put it back on. I was facing the opposite way to the enemy
and saw more shadows. “They’re behind us as well,” I warned.

“Bloody snakes” yelled the Sergeant. “Fump,” one of the bullets smacked a boy in the
back of his head. I ran to his side and checked his pulse, but blood was pouring out of
his head like a leak. I didn’t even know his name, but I knew he was a son, grandson and
most likely a sibling. As my heart sank, everything around me blurred as a tear trickled
down my face. The tree line lit up like a kid turning a flash light on and off. The tracers
on some of the bullets whizzed past and smacked into the ground creating a mushroom
cloud of dirt. I ran back to cover where I was much safer from the oncoming fire.
Suddenly, silence. The VC were guerrilla fighters, so they were most likely planning for


another hit and run attack. I heard a grumbling sound in the distance, the noise
intensified, the VC had disappeared. The base, a few kilometres up, was about to get
bombed. The Jets’ roar soon turned into a screech as it flew over. It was so loud I lost
my balance. The bombs whizz down towards the fleeing VC. “Boom!” the bombs
demolished the base shaking the whole valley. Smoke plumed up into the sky along
with dirt and other fragments of metal.

The VC, now distracted, were retreating from the occupied area and went back into a
small creek type surrounding. We used natural cover to hide our escape and keep us
safe. It was a thirty-minute trek down the hill that killed our legs. Now at the bottom,
we regrouped and planned the next attack. The bomb detonating increased our
motivation and we all felt rushed with adrenaline. Sergeant Newman called in for air
support as we were going to have one more final push for the hill. Airstrikes from A-
37’s were granted as well as scout helicopters for overview. I felt the adrenaline slowly
release into my blood and the squad’s spirits rise. The thought that I saw a young
teenager die right in front of my eyes flew from my head. We gathered our supplies and
prepared for battle. We ate some of our rations, so we could fight on a full stomach. We
were getting this operation done and done quick.

The ground was vibrating, and the hills were shaking. With each step we took, we got
closer to the enemy. Bombs from the fighter were going off close to 90 metres away.
Bombs going off so often it almost turned into an ambient sound for us. The Sergeant
put his fist up, we froze. I looked at the tree line and I was staring straight down a
barrel of an AK-47. “Take cover!” yelled the Sergeant. I dropped and rolled behind a
tree. It happened so fast, bullets whizzing past like sharp fire bolts. I had to return fire,
and that is exactly what I did. I leant my gun and flung it around the tree with my body.
I aimed and took a huge breath in and the then let bullets fly. My ears were ringing as I
shot in the direction of the enemy’s weapon flash. “ffttt,” the bullet smacked straight
into an enemy’s neck, a short spray of blood came out. I went behind to cover and took
a short-lived rest. A bullet flying past smacked me straight into my steel cap boot. Pain
pulsed through my entire body. “God!” I yelled. I returned fire and hit another enemy’s
body. The bullets started to die down and so did the intensity. There were about two
enemies left. Me and a young man that looked about my age flanked them from the side
and fire our m16’s and that was it. Silence. We headed up the hill still weary of snipers,
but the scout helicopters saw nothing. We were at the top of the hill as we all took a
breath in. It was a beautiful but devasting sight to see. We saw the rice fields below and
other hills with smoke pouring out of the tree line. Napalm covered up half the fields
and hills as we saw civilians fleeing. The battle was over, but in my head, it will never be


Teen Films

Article by Savannah Coupland, Kelsey Siezcka, Isabelle Miller, Phoebe Boyd


In preparation for making our own film trailer, students watched a variety of films which

portrayed several teen stereotypes. This helped students understand how teens are viewed

in the society.


This is a brilliant movie which delivers
many interesting and moving
controversial topics in a way that allows
you to step back from the realistic idea
of what is happening in our society
today. It establishes; racism, sexism, and
many other major topics society suffers
to cope with from years ago to even at
this very moment.

The Edge of Seventeen Remember the Titans

The protagonist of this film is the This movie follows a part of
downright moody and soon to know “Pleasantville’s” theme with a
lonely girl. High school junior Nadine controversial topic of racism when
is dragged by her conscious which is an African-American coach takes the
soon to be known as a bit unreliable coaching position of a football team
when she falls apart and is in the to lead for them into their first
need of her very sarcastic teacher season.
Mr Bruner. Nadine struggles with her
time at high school, and things
become to worsen when her best
friend starts to date her brother.

The ‘Back to the future’ first film is about the young 17-year-old boy
named Mary McFly, who is travelled 30 years back in time by his close
friend and scientist Doc Brown. Although this time travel incident was
an accident for both Marty and Doc Brown, Marty is astonished to
find his parents and their other family members in their younger life.


Kalamunda Film Awards

The Film Trailer project allowed students to explore the mechanics of cinema and
consider the way music and editing enhance film. The task was to create either a
storyboard or video trailer that showed an understanding of film conventions and the
teen genre. Every film demonstrated an excellent understanding of visual construction
and the task proved to be the high point for student achievement.
Some of the stand out performances are below:

Best Animated Feature Hayden Schwinkowski and Oliver Lee Rosser

Best Adapted Screenplay Rohan McCallion

Best Original Screenplay Lance Ocampo, Filip Kovacevic and Samuel

Best Supporting Actor Aimee’s Hair

Best Supporting Actress Kelsey Seizcka

Best Lead Performance Evie Williams in Just Friends

Best Directorial Debut Annelies Day

Best Emerging Script Sophie Ries and Sophia Ferrari

Best Comedy Glo-Down
Film of the Year Love Lives – Love Dies


Transition to Year 10

Article by Lance Ocampo and Filip Kovacevic


It was very interesting attending English during the end of this term. We learnt about
topics that will be covered in Year 10. Most notably, we learnt about this guy called
William Shakespeare. We discussed and analysed his sonnets and plays. Understanding
his influence on what we recognise as English today. I felt as we truly began to

understand this English sensation.

Iambic Pentameter

Little did I know about Shakespeare’s carefully applied technique within his own
poems, which is known as “Iambic Pentameter”. This uses the accentuated sounds of
speech and is known as metre. It creates a rhythm and can be best explained as
something similar to the beating of a heart- ‘ba-DUM’. This technique was applied to the
sonnets that he wrote. We also learnt about the typical rhyming scheme, the use of
symbolic language and the narrative like structure of his poems.

Pearson Book Time

Those who were not having ice-
cream, on some sort of Italian trip,
learnt about the Globe Theatre- the
place where William’s plays were
put into action. The theatre open
and only the privileged had
protection from the sun/rain. The
peasants were outside- where they
were for most of their life.


Case Study

Finally, when the Italian students who Bonus Interview
learnt how to eat ice-cream came back,
we had our own individual case studies with Suesara!
on Shakespeare’s plays. We had to
make a quick summary of the play, “I loved learning about the
provide a death/marriage/love great Shakespeare, the week
triangle count, name the play gave me an insight into what
category/type and consider the
common features between plays as Year 10 is like and I truly
Shakespeare’s plays were known to fit enjoyed learning about
three different categories. Hamlet, the Globe Theatre and

Iambic Pentameter”

Some of the plays that we learnt about include:
Macbeth, A Midsummer Night’s Dream and Hamlet.


In conclusion, even though the
class had enough of William and
his Shakespeare after a mere 3-4
lessons. We enjoyed learning
about the greatest poet and play
writer of all-time. This knowledge
is imperative, and it is always nice
to have a head-start on something
whether it be Shakespeare…or a


A Letter from Mrs Adams

To my wonderful Year 9 students,

What a crazy year it has been. You have worked HARD this year, balancing assessments
from all your subjects, the demands of the Academic Excellence Program and of course
the normal pressures of being a teen. It hasn’t been a quiet year in English. Nope. Our
classroom has been filled with energy. It has been wonderful to listen to your questions,
your insights and your opinions. As much as teaching is about instruction, it’s also about
listening. I feel you have afforded the opportunity to listen and to understand a little bit
about each of you as the year has progressed. As a group, you have shown the capacity
to thoughtfully consider a wide range of subjects and discuss issues with maturity and
respect. Are you a little chatty sometimes? Well…Maybe. But it’s a strength you will
learn to channel into robust debates, and through this, you’ll learn valuable lessons.

I am so incredibly proud of you all for the effort you have put in and the way you have
pushed yourselves to meet expectations. Being in ‘AE’ isn’t always easy, the bar is set
high and sometimes you must stretch yourself to reach it. I can’t count the number of
times I have been impressed with how resourceful you have been, the conviction you
have shown and the resilience you are all developing.

Often you will ask if you are my favourite class. I honestly (honestly!) do not have a
favourite, because all my students have different strengths. But what I have loved in our
class together is unique to you, and only you. I have loved seeing your drive, your
persistence, and your desire to improve yourselves. I have enjoyed the way you will rise
to a challenge, whether it’s reading related, teaching the class, or something I’ve thrown
at you without warning. No other class has given me the sound of laughter in the
Library. No other class has given me the opportunity to hush them with actions or the
opportunity to discuss Communism. No other class has given me reason to explore
interesting Suess-related pass-times!

Next year will be a new chapter for you as classes change. I know that you will love your
new teachers and will learn so much from them. Please give them the same
opportunities you have given me, trust them to invest in you and take on their feedback.
The journey of school isn’t always an easy ride, be patient with yourselves and confident
that you have the strengths to excel.

All the very best for 2019!

Mrs Adams


Thankyou and Goodbye

We thank you for reading “We speak English”, we hope that you’ll
tune in next time for the next edition! Subscribe to our monthly
magazine to find out all about our AE class! We are sure you’ve
learned a lot and seen what us, as an AE class have done throughout
year 9. Next month’s free gift is an all new oxfords dictionary 2019

pocket edition, and an updated guide to the “Pearson book”.



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