Year 8 are currently studying a unit of work in English called \u2018Speaking Up, Speaking Out\u2019.\u00a0 It focuses on using rhetorical conventions and devices to persuade audiences. After exploring the persuasive texts in the style of Slam Poetry, students were asked to write their own Slams exploring an issue they feel strongly about. Some of the groups will be performing their Slams on assembly.\u00a0
<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cRed Dust, White Silence\u201d<\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n by Ruby Tucker-Pana and Sahara Bull<\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n I stand on this red-dusted ground They say Australia\u2019s young,<\/em> Racism here? See, racism here is not an accident. It echoes through generations\u2014 And on this soil, But here\u2019s the part We\u2019re still here.<\/strong> Because country remembers. And I believe\u2014 Australia isn\u2019t finished. And if we choose it\u2014 Because racism was built here\u2014 This story can end on a good note\u2014<\/strong> Beauty standards<\/strong> Social Media Mirrors<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n by Simone Lentros, Erika Michael<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n They tell us<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cBe yourself.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n But grade it like an exam,<\/p>\n\n\n\n red pen slicing through our confidence,<\/p>\n\n\n\n every mistake highlighted in shame.<\/p>\n\n\n\n We are teenagers,<\/p>\n\n\n\n Underdeveloped galaxies,<\/p>\n\n\n\n scrolling through mirrors that lie,<\/p>\n\n\n\n filters that pledge perfection<\/p>\n\n\n\n but destroy our minds.<\/p>\n\n\n\n We wear masks,<\/p>\n\n\n\n one for the classroom,<\/p>\n\n\n\n one for the playground,<\/p>\n\n\n\n one for the bedroom where silence screams louder than TikToks perfection.<\/p>\n\n\n\n We scroll through identities like fragile glass,<\/p>\n\n\n\n hoping none of them shatter our hearts<\/p>\n\n\n\n They say<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cFind your voice.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n But every hallway whispers with judgment,<\/p>\n\n\n\n every \u2018like\u2019 on a post<\/p>\n\n\n\n is addition to your self worth.<\/p>\n\n\n\n We are told to stand out,<\/p>\n\n\n\n but judged when we don\u2019t fit in.<\/p>\n\n\n\n We are teenagers hiding behind borrowed smiles,<\/p>\n\n\n\n Wishing we can be who we see.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Jealousy lies,<\/p>\n\n\n\n from every corner of the eye.<\/p>\n\n\n\n We rebel not because we hate,<\/p>\n\n\n\n but because we\u2019re hurt:<\/p>\n\n\n\n to breathe,<\/p>\n\n\n\n to speak<\/p>\n\n\n\n and to exist without a societal mark.<\/p>\n\n\n\n So listen,<\/p>\n\n\n\n we are not robots,<\/p>\n\n\n\n not marking papers,<\/p>\n\n\n\n not Instagram models.<\/p>\n\n\n\n We are light at the end of the tunnel.<\/p>\n\n\n\n We need to be seen for our differences <\/p>\n\n\n\n in a world that keeps yelling for us to blend in.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Define Normal <\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n by Harriett Postle, Chiara Triolo, Maddie Chow<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n Is it fitting in with the crowd or standing out?<\/p>\n\n\n\n You might say it is fitting in into a group <\/p>\n\n\n\n But why is there pressure on us to do that? Those \u201cweird\u201d people get judged , pushed out and mad fun of, because they aren’t \u201cnormal\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n But \u2018normal\u2019 isn’t fitting in. It is being yourself, having your own interests, your likes and dislikes. <\/p>\n\n\n\n Normal is being you. Normal is having quirks.\u00a0<\/p>\n\n\n\n Normal is sharing a personality.\u00a0<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n\n\n\n <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" Year 8 are currently studying a unit of work in English called \u2018Speaking Up, Speaking Out\u2019.\u00a0 It focuses on using rhetorical conventions and devices to persuade audiences. After exploring the persuasive texts in the style of Slam Poetry, students were asked to write their own Slams exploring an issue they feel strongly about. Some of […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"featured_media":1317,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","template":"","article_category":[21],"article_tag":[],"class_list":["post-1277","article","type-article","status-publish","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","article_category-news"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.thebuzz.net.au\/cghs\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/article\/1277","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.thebuzz.net.au\/cghs\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/article"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.thebuzz.net.au\/cghs\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/article"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.thebuzz.net.au\/cghs\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=1277"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.thebuzz.net.au\/cghs\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/1317"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.thebuzz.net.au\/cghs\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=1277"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"article_category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.thebuzz.net.au\/cghs\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/article_category?post=1277"},{"taxonomy":"article_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.thebuzz.net.au\/cghs\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/article_tag?post=1277"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
where stories are older than the stars,
but the air still crackles
with the static of a history
nobody wants to own.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
<\/em>but it\u2019s only the nation that\u2019s young\u2014
the land is ancient,
the people older still,
yet colonisation came rushing in
like a storm that never learned how to stop raining.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
It didn\u2019t sprout from nothing.
It was imported<\/strong>,
boxed up in ships,
wrapped in Union Jack certainty
and \u201cterra nullius\u201d lies.
Signed, sealed, delivered\u2014
and stamped onto bodies
that already belonged
to this earth.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
It\u2019s architecture.
Designed.
Drafted.
Blueprints inked in segregation,
policies sharpened like spears,
the violence dressed up in paperwork,
the prejudice packaged as \u201cprogress.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
in the kid followed around the store,
in the auntie overlooked for a job,
in the uncle mocked for his accent,
in the grandmother whose language
was stolen from her tongue
like it was contraband.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
where colonial ghosts still whisper,
racism tries to dig its heels in,
pretending it\u2019s tradition.
Pretending it\u2019s normal.
Pretending it\u2019s anything
but a stain we inherited,
not a truth we chose.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
they don\u2019t expect\u2014
the part that keeps beating
under all that rubble:<\/p>\n\n\n\n
<\/strong>The oldest living cultures in the world\u2014
still here.
Migrants building new futures\u2014
still here.
Allies shaking loose the old lies\u2014
still here.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Because justice grows slowly,
but it grows like a gum tree:
through fire, through drought,
through everything meant to stop it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
in the classrooms teaching truth,
in the marches filling streets,
in the kids learning languages
their grandparents were punished for,
in conversations that used to be whispers
now spoken out loud
with courage.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Maybe it\u2019s only just beginning.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
if we face what\u2019s behind us
while walking toward what\u2019s ahead\u2014
this land could hold more than pain.
It could hold healing.
It could hold all of us.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
but so was resilience.
And resilience?
It always wins
in the end.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
<\/strong>because we\u2019re the ones writing<\/strong>
<\/strong>the next verse<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n\n
Slam Poems<\/strong>
by Pipa Henecka, Mia Chow, Olive Taylor\u00a0<\/strong>
You can’t be too thin,
You can’t be too fat,
You have to weigh just the write amount.
You cover up your legs with a long skirt,
Cause that means you\u2019re hiding
But if you wear it too short you\u2019re crisis for showing too much,
As if your skin is something to be ashamed of.
You layer on make up to cover the faults in your skin,
Or maybe to bury something deeper within.
To be like the girls you see on TV,
To be seen as the girl society wants you to be.
The standards,
The rule,
The impossible expectations,
What is it all for?
People say love your body,
As if the words alone are enough,
But how?
How do I love the body I’ve been taught to hate?<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n\n\n\n\n
They say if you stand out you\u2019re not \u2018normal\u2019, you\u2019re \u2018weird\u2019, you\u2019re \u2018different\u2019. <\/p>\n\n\n\n