WriteOn 2022

During Term 2, the girls in the Primary were given the opportunity to take part in the WriteOn Competition, an annual writing competition open to all students Years 1-6 in New South Wales. Tasked with composing an imaginative text of up to 500 words in response to an image (below), this year, the competition had more entries than ever before, with close to 500 students participating. This number is quite impressive considering schools could only submit one entry from each stage of learning.

Showcasing their creativity and writing skills, we received many entries from the girls in Years 3-6. We would like to congratulate Anna Slack (Year 5) and Giselle Wharton (Year 4) whose compositions were not only selected for submission into the competition but were recognised by the competition judges, a panel comprised of experienced Primary teachers and NESA representatives across each educational sector. Both girls received Silver commendation and their compositions will be published in The Best of WriteOn 2022 Anthology.

“Eyes Everywhere”

My head turned upwards. There were eyes everywhere. Always eyes. Wherever I looked there were eyes. Glancing, staring at me, peeping. Some were hidden so that they could watch us without us knowing. Others were in immediate eyesight, as though reminding us that we are always being watched. This fair was supposed to be a moment in time where I could forget, the kaleidoscope of colour and movement meant to distract me from reality, but I was not fooled. I studied the collection of toy animals to know which of them were watching us. Was it the panda? Or was it the green chameleon reporting back to headquarters? I had been warned by older children that some of the eyes contained cameras. They wanted to ensure our every move was captured. I glanced at the red book in my hands. It was supposed to guide us through the fair. However, I saw it as just another mechanism to watch us and control our every move. 

My grandfather talked of a time before, where everyone was allowed to think for themselves, where children could run aimlessly through the streets without an eye on them. They were allowed to be different. Now, we were told what to think, what to do and if we didn’t agree, the faint hum of the drone could be heard, hovering ready to capture us if our disagreement was too great. I had become so used to the hum of the drone above that I barely lifted my eyes when it descended. 

Unexpectedly, the gigantic lips amongst the partially covered mural moved. I trembled, partly in fear and partly in awe, as the lips mouthed, “Fight back. Fight for your right to have a view.” My eyes widened. The view that I had always adopted was being expressed.

The toy’s eyes all moved, firmly fixed on me. Now though, I did not care. I knew the drone would eventually catch me, but I would fight back. I wanted to have a voice, not live a life functioning like a robot, being told what to think and do. I threw the red book on the grass. I screamed, “I want to be myself.” My shoulders were up, and I stood straight. I was not going to be overpowered.

All I could now see were the bulging eyes of the toys. The cameras could now be clearly seen. However, I felt liberated.

The drone hovered, claws ready to grasp me. 

The eyes were my shadow and my constant companion,
And they were going to punish me, for being me.

Anna Slack (5W)

“The Panda who Finally Found a Home”

Hi, my name is Panda, I’ve been here a long, long time,
See me on the top shelf? Hey, I’m still in my prime.
Why doesn’t anyone pick me? Aren’t I a delight?
With my little black nose, my twinkling eyes alight.
Aren’t I fabulous? Aren’t I great?
Or maybe did they make a mistake.
What is wrong? Come on, tell me now!
I’m cute and cuddly, that I avow.

No hugs or smiles, I wake up, freezing,
I do not find this very pleasing.
It makes me sad, I feel alone,
All I really want is a home.

There’s a little girl coming up to the stand,
Won’t get my hopes up, won’t show my hand.
But wait, she’s paid and is aiming high,
As she loses her first turn, I want to cry.

Her second attempt is good, but not great,
If she tries a little harder, she may get it straight.
Then she will win, I know that she can,
That’s how they do it, so stick to the plan.

She’s done it. It’s the moment of truth,
Will she pick me? Or someone who toots?
She looks up and she points right at me,
It’s happened finally. Whoopee!

Giselle Wharton (4B)

Kristy Williams
Acting Curriculum Coordinator (English)