This year I have the privilege of teaching Year 11 Advanced English - and it is going very well. The students have been working hard to continue improving their writing skills, and in particular creative writing. 

I thought you might like to read some vignettes from their latest assessment tasks. 

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“On the ground, the setting light created extensive shadows. A warm orange hue was added to the sky by the sun's slanting rays. The sky was lit up by the sun as if it was on fire. I've never felt so calm or relaxed. A tear escapes my eye. It made me feel as if I'm finally at peace. I look out into the distance. A line separating the sky from the sea. Ripples of water sparkling from the reflection of the sunset. At the same time, I close my eyes and breathe in the fresh air as it fills my lungs. Hearing water crashing into the rocks, the sound of birds chirping with happiness. If only I was that happy. A gush of strong cold wind passes me, making me lose balance on the bridge railing. Disturbed by the wind, the sound of cars passing by destroys my peace I will never be able to go back to. I want to escape. I want to let go. I want to be with her. I take a step forward.” Bea Balon  

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“The piercing heat awakes me from my slumber. Our beautiful home, where I have lived my whole life, is blanketed in an orange glow. The deathly, choking smell of smoke filled my lungs. I’ve got to get out of here. I pull back the warm comfort of my bed, and I hesitantly make my way to my bedroom door. The door squeaks open, only to reveal flames. Everywhere. My legs refuse to move. I’m terrified. I force myself to move as the bookshelf beside me comes crashing to the ground. I see the large wooden portal that would lead me to safety. The destructive flames haven’t reached it yet. Run, I think frantically. The door moves closer and closer to me. I throw it open, and on the other side, cool night air envelops me. I fall to the ground, coughing, sputtering. People in uniform move towards me and pull me away from the burning house. I look around at all the horrified faces crowding around my house, and I realise that my parents’ faces aren’t among them”. Sharn Ferguson

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“My brother Nick was my favorite. I didn’t appreciate how lucky I was to have him. He was in a bad car accident 3 months ago; he died on the way to the hospital. My parents act like nothing happened. It frustrates me, how they try to get rid of any sign there was another person living here. I don't see them much, though we live in the same house. I'm lying in my bed, staring at an old photo of best friend Indie and me. She’s been with me for as long as I can remember. She’s been the only real constant over the past few months. Although I haven't been the best to her lately. Instead, I've been hanging more with the not so popular group of the school. Well, they're popular, but not for the best reasons. Everything’s changed. Life isn’t as exciting as I remember. It’s as though everything is in black and white; nothing feels right anymore.” Zoe Bent   

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“I’m sitting on a lounge in a group room, with my legs up to my chest. Dr Miller and I are in here, like every other day. She has her folder of information and papers about me in front of her on the table. She is slowly turning the pages of the folder, assessing each one. I see it as myself turning the page in my life, venturing into the beginning of my end. Although I can’t forget, I can try to move onto bigger and better things. I can never forget, but there’s many more positive things in my life that I can admire and appreciate. Still, the nagging thoughts of my situation will never be answered, or leave me alone, I believe I’m ready for a new beginning.

“Are you ready to go home, Soph?” Evie Gidley

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“The loud yelling carried through the hallway; I hate when this happens. His face was red with anger, I could already see what was coming next. A pit formed in my stomach. He paced toward me curling his calloused hand into a fist. He raised it and without hesitation, and swung at me, making direct contact with my face. The left side of my face grew numb, the pain was unbearable. I gaze up at my boyfriend, my head throbbing and his face not showing one bit of shame or guilt.” Charlotte Mattner

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As you can see, their use of imagery and chiaroscuro (light and dark) are developing well, and they are producing strong pieces of writing. 

This term we will shift our focus to analytical writing - where we are focusing on the orphan archetype presented throughout texts, including our main novel study “Where the Crawdads Sing” in unison with the film “Jane Eyre”. I cannot wait for the deep level of analysis and conversation that is sure to come in these lessons. 

What a journey it has been, to now offer Year 11 and shortly Year 12. 

I am still pinching myself!

Mrs Georgina Breust