Week beginning 6th December
During this week, all pupils will be undertaking the third Controlled Assessment.
It is essential that you prepare for this task thoroughly and complete your planning sheet ready for the task.
Remember - to bring in your equipment and are focused for the assessment.
Remember - these first two Assessment Tasks are worth 15% of your overall GCSE Grade.
GOOD LUCK
Mr Carroll
Wednesday, 1 December 2010
Wednesday, 24 November 2010
Year 7 Anti Bullying Week
Set 2 Homework
Design a leaflet for lower school pupils informing them what to do if they are being bullied or know of somebody being bullied.
It should also provide other information relating to the issue of bullying.
Mr Cameron's Class - Set 1 English
Controlled Assessment – Creative Writing Example
When I recall my grandparents I find along with that recollection what I would describe as a tangle of feelings that needs some unravelling. This is not for negative reasons, but rather that I experienced the pain of losing them as an older child/teenager, as well as the undoubted impact they had for good upon my young life.
How could I forget for example the occasion I travelled with my Grandpa (my mother’s father) as a kid on the bus. It was to a primary school event, and for some reason I was worried about something. I can’t recall what, exactly – whether it was that we might be late getting there, or that I’d forgotten something I’m not sure, but what I do recall clearly was his calm assurance to me that, “in most situations, everything works out all right!” It was just the reassurance I needed at the time, as an impressionable young child, and it has stayed with me ever since. A trivial enough situation it might seem, but out of such “small events” our lives are shaped and moulded, one way or another.
My other grandfather was “granddad” to me. We all loved him because he was lots of fun to be around: always laughing and joking, or tickling us. He had us squealing with laughter, though the tickling often prompted the happy protest, “Don’t Grandad!” In fact, he heard this so much, that when he took the time to write down his own childhood memories for us grandchildren, these two words became the title of the piece. He taught me fishing, French cricket, knot-tying, lashing things together with string or twine, and some gardening skills as well.
His house was very old-fashioned to my mind – dark rooms, old-style furniture, mantelpieces full of various objects and faded photographs, paintings on the walls, clocks ticking quietly in the background.... He and my gran would share a leisurely breakfast with toast, cut in half and cooling on the toast rack, a pot of marmalade with a spoon, and freshly brewed tea in a pot, made with loose tea-leaves, while he puzzled over the clues in the Times crossword.
And then he was gone. I’m not sure how much I’d noticed him going downhill. However, it was not so long after he began to deteriorate that he died in his sleep. He had had cancer. Now, as an eleven-year-old, I wasn’t old enough for the emotion of grief to hit me in any real depth. I struggled to relate the silent coffin at the funeral to the man I had known as Grandad. I do know that the qualities which made him what he was: his integrity, his faith, his hard work and his sense of fun, have all had a strong impact on me.
My mother’s father (Grandpa) was alive for a few more years. From about the age of ten, I suppose because then I was old enough to appreciate it, he began to write some longer letters to me, some of several pages in length. I treasured these: there is something very personal about a letter that can be lost a little these days in our world of instant-messaging and email. Maybe the previous generation have something to teach us here. Although my Grandpa had four of us grandchildren on our side of the family alone, how special it was to find a letter addressed specifically to me from him. I had been picked out, and felt privileged and valued. He was a good letter-writer
When I recall my grandparents I find along with that recollection what I would describe as a tangle of feelings that needs some unravelling. This is not for negative reasons, but rather that I experienced the pain of losing them as an older child/teenager, as well as the undoubted impact they had for good upon my young life.
How could I forget for example the occasion I travelled with my Grandpa (my mother’s father) as a kid on the bus. It was to a primary school event, and for some reason I was worried about something. I can’t recall what, exactly – whether it was that we might be late getting there, or that I’d forgotten something I’m not sure, but what I do recall clearly was his calm assurance to me that, “in most situations, everything works out all right!” It was just the reassurance I needed at the time, as an impressionable young child, and it has stayed with me ever since. A trivial enough situation it might seem, but out of such “small events” our lives are shaped and moulded, one way or another.
My other grandfather was “granddad” to me. We all loved him because he was lots of fun to be around: always laughing and joking, or tickling us. He had us squealing with laughter, though the tickling often prompted the happy protest, “Don’t Grandad!” In fact, he heard this so much, that when he took the time to write down his own childhood memories for us grandchildren, these two words became the title of the piece. He taught me fishing, French cricket, knot-tying, lashing things together with string or twine, and some gardening skills as well.
His house was very old-fashioned to my mind – dark rooms, old-style furniture, mantelpieces full of various objects and faded photographs, paintings on the walls, clocks ticking quietly in the background.... He and my gran would share a leisurely breakfast with toast, cut in half and cooling on the toast rack, a pot of marmalade with a spoon, and freshly brewed tea in a pot, made with loose tea-leaves, while he puzzled over the clues in the Times crossword.
And then he was gone. I’m not sure how much I’d noticed him going downhill. However, it was not so long after he began to deteriorate that he died in his sleep. He had had cancer. Now, as an eleven-year-old, I wasn’t old enough for the emotion of grief to hit me in any real depth. I struggled to relate the silent coffin at the funeral to the man I had known as Grandad. I do know that the qualities which made him what he was: his integrity, his faith, his hard work and his sense of fun, have all had a strong impact on me.
My mother’s father (Grandpa) was alive for a few more years. From about the age of ten, I suppose because then I was old enough to appreciate it, he began to write some longer letters to me, some of several pages in length. I treasured these: there is something very personal about a letter that can be lost a little these days in our world of instant-messaging and email. Maybe the previous generation have something to teach us here. Although my Grandpa had four of us grandchildren on our side of the family alone, how special it was to find a letter addressed specifically to me from him. I had been picked out, and felt privileged and valued. He was a good letter-writer
Mr Cameron's Class - Set 1 English
Examples of Macbeth response!
Controlled Assessment – Creative Writing, Re-creations
Using the situation in Shakespeare’s “Macbeth”
The drip of the blood from his hands held him in a hypnotic grip – he watched in a fascination of fear as the rich drops of another man’s life arced unstoppably through the air to explode in ineradicable crimson upon the innocent floor, each splash screaming “guilty”, “guilty”, “guilty”, in the depths of his tormented soul.
What had he done...? Worse, what had he become...? The sticky red horror of his hands was a living metaphor of his stained conscience, presented before his very eyes. In the twisted confusion of his mind, he yet knew that, although it would be the work of minutes to wash the blood off, no water, no flood or oceanic torrent even, could ever remove the fearful imprint of “murder” from the fabric of his being.
And all done, all gruesomely pursued to satisfy his insatiable, gnawing ambition, to be…what? King, master of it all, holder of the strings of power. Well, he had it now, didn’t he? But at a price too frightening to consider.
As he stood in silent contemplation, the events of the past week came crashing into his consciousness. Where had it all begun? With the strangest of visitations and promises. Just four days ago, a group of three women had suddenly stopped him in the street… He had been arrested first of all by the ugliness on display – their skin sallow and sickly, their mouths thin and cruel. Their words however gripped him like a vice: “The top job, Macbeth – it’s coming your way. You’re going to have it all; the wealth, the status, the power.” The eyes of the speaker had bored into his very soul, but just as a thousand questions filled his mind, demanding answers, they were gone – completely vanished!
Had he dreamt it? No, it had been all too real, just like the raging ambition awakened by their words of apparent promise, ambition that threatened to engulf him in its insistent power. To be in charge, head of the empire of which he had only been a part – it was all he’d ever longed for! So why had that longing been linked from the start with an image in his mind so foul, so horrific, so underhand and full of bloody betrayal that his mind recoiled from it, yet couldn’t leave it alone…
And then her part in it all. She, whose ambition was so in tune with his, that it seemed impossible to say where one ended and the other began. And yet, when he’d told her of the strange, almost supernatural women’s words, it was like a living force, a fearsome power within her took over. He’d never seen her like that, as if all her gentle, feminine side had been ripped out of her. Where had her conscience gone? His was a tortured mess – he knew only too well the appalling evil of the deed they were contemplating. Cold-blooded, heartless, ruthless, sickening murder.
The more the rampant wickedness of it screamed at him, the more he’d wanted out of it. Until she’d started on him. Emotionally, she turned butcher, the knife of her words hacking away at his very heart and soul: “Not a man in my eyes unless you kill.” Oh, the power she wielded over him – it was frightening to consider, seemed impossible to resist. And so he’d agreed. Dancing a twisted, destructive dance into the vortex of evil…
He looked again at his hands. Why was the dead man’s blood so shockingly red? It seemed it must preach his guilt to every living soul. It had already pronounced sentence on him: that he’d not only plunged the knife into the man he’d sworn to serve, but also into any chance of his finding rest or sleep for the remainder of his days – he, Macbeth, had murdered sleep itself, and would therefore never sleep again.
Controlled Assessment – Creative Writing, Re-creations
Using the situation in Shakespeare’s “Macbeth”
The drip of the blood from his hands held him in a hypnotic grip – he watched in a fascination of fear as the rich drops of another man’s life arced unstoppably through the air to explode in ineradicable crimson upon the innocent floor, each splash screaming “guilty”, “guilty”, “guilty”, in the depths of his tormented soul.
What had he done...? Worse, what had he become...? The sticky red horror of his hands was a living metaphor of his stained conscience, presented before his very eyes. In the twisted confusion of his mind, he yet knew that, although it would be the work of minutes to wash the blood off, no water, no flood or oceanic torrent even, could ever remove the fearful imprint of “murder” from the fabric of his being.
And all done, all gruesomely pursued to satisfy his insatiable, gnawing ambition, to be…what? King, master of it all, holder of the strings of power. Well, he had it now, didn’t he? But at a price too frightening to consider.
As he stood in silent contemplation, the events of the past week came crashing into his consciousness. Where had it all begun? With the strangest of visitations and promises. Just four days ago, a group of three women had suddenly stopped him in the street… He had been arrested first of all by the ugliness on display – their skin sallow and sickly, their mouths thin and cruel. Their words however gripped him like a vice: “The top job, Macbeth – it’s coming your way. You’re going to have it all; the wealth, the status, the power.” The eyes of the speaker had bored into his very soul, but just as a thousand questions filled his mind, demanding answers, they were gone – completely vanished!
Had he dreamt it? No, it had been all too real, just like the raging ambition awakened by their words of apparent promise, ambition that threatened to engulf him in its insistent power. To be in charge, head of the empire of which he had only been a part – it was all he’d ever longed for! So why had that longing been linked from the start with an image in his mind so foul, so horrific, so underhand and full of bloody betrayal that his mind recoiled from it, yet couldn’t leave it alone…
And then her part in it all. She, whose ambition was so in tune with his, that it seemed impossible to say where one ended and the other began. And yet, when he’d told her of the strange, almost supernatural women’s words, it was like a living force, a fearsome power within her took over. He’d never seen her like that, as if all her gentle, feminine side had been ripped out of her. Where had her conscience gone? His was a tortured mess – he knew only too well the appalling evil of the deed they were contemplating. Cold-blooded, heartless, ruthless, sickening murder.
The more the rampant wickedness of it screamed at him, the more he’d wanted out of it. Until she’d started on him. Emotionally, she turned butcher, the knife of her words hacking away at his very heart and soul: “Not a man in my eyes unless you kill.” Oh, the power she wielded over him – it was frightening to consider, seemed impossible to resist. And so he’d agreed. Dancing a twisted, destructive dance into the vortex of evil…
He looked again at his hands. Why was the dead man’s blood so shockingly red? It seemed it must preach his guilt to every living soul. It had already pronounced sentence on him: that he’d not only plunged the knife into the man he’d sworn to serve, but also into any chance of his finding rest or sleep for the remainder of his days – he, Macbeth, had murdered sleep itself, and would therefore never sleep again.
Tuesday, 23 November 2010
Yr 10 Controlled Assessment Planning Sheet
http://store.aqa.org.uk/admin/crf_pdf/AQA-ENGLISH-W-CN-11.PDF
Should you require a planning sheet at home, click on the link above.
Should you require a planning sheet at home, click on the link above.
Monday, 22 November 2010
Year 10 - Don't forget that Controlled Assessments will take place in class the week beginning the 5th December 2010
Ms Norris's class are preparing for the task - Write about a film that you have watched taking into account achievements within the genre and its appeal to the audience.
We've now watched and analysed 'Coach Carter' so we now need to begin writing it! Remember to write with a style that hooks the reader in right from the start - don't just tell the story - make it interesting!
Consider the following to get you started:
What are the film's main achievements?
How could someone who doesn't like basketball be persuaded to see the film?
What are the themes of the film?
What's its overall message?
How did the film make YOU feel? What's your overall response?
Good luck!
Ms Norris
We've now watched and analysed 'Coach Carter' so we now need to begin writing it! Remember to write with a style that hooks the reader in right from the start - don't just tell the story - make it interesting!
Consider the following to get you started:
What are the film's main achievements?
How could someone who doesn't like basketball be persuaded to see the film?
What are the themes of the film?
What's its overall message?
How did the film make YOU feel? What's your overall response?
Good luck!
Ms Norris
Monday, 8 November 2010
Yr 10 Mr Carroll's class.
This is the next Controlled Assessment task to be undertaken in 4 weeks time.
Use a literary text you have read as a springboard for a piece of writing about an aspect of your own life or an aspect of young people’s lives.
For example, a poem from ‘Relationships’ could be used to write about a significant relationship in your life.
A text from a different culture – prose, drama or poetry – could be used to write about issues of cultural diversity
You need to be thinking about this now in preparation for December.
Good Luck
Mr Carroll
Yr 11 Don't forget........
Wednesday is the Paper 2.
Get revising and learn those poems........
REVISION CLASS TOMORROW @ 3.00pm for all English classes.
Mr Carroll
Get revising and learn those poems........
REVISION CLASS TOMORROW @ 3.00pm for all English classes.
Mr Carroll
Sunday, 31 October 2010
Are you ready for your next Controlled Assessment?
You will start your next GCSE English Language Controlled Assessment with your teacher when you start back on Monday 1st November. Learn from any mistakes that you might have made last time. Make sure that you get the most out of the upcoming lessons because they will be vital for your success...
Miss Richardson's class are working towards answering the question: " Write about a film that you have watched taking into account achievements within the genre and its appeall to the audience" We will be watching the film Coach Carter and will be analysing lots of different elements of the film to consider why it is such a good film!
Miss Richardson's class are working towards answering the question: " Write about a film that you have watched taking into account achievements within the genre and its appeall to the audience" We will be watching the film Coach Carter and will be analysing lots of different elements of the film to consider why it is such a good film!
Thursday, 14 October 2010
Don't Get me Started
Controlled Assessments to take place next week
Make sure you're revising your plans thoroughly this weekend.
Good Luck.
The English Department
Tuesday, 28 September 2010
Exemplar Don't Get Me Started opening
Kicking Off On Football Clubs
Now we all know that football is a great sport, bringing forth legends like Eric Cantona, George Best and the heroic Sir Bobby Charlton, but what about the downsides to this heroic game: exorbitant wages, inept role rodels and the never ending peer group pressure of football kit changes every year.
Firstly, I would like to talk about wages; now players like Wayne Rooney, Lionel Messi and Fernando Torres are on more than enough salary per year to clear Britain of its recession but do they have the heart to donate to charities? Even if it is only £10 of their staggering fortune, it will still help little Johnny, down the road, to get the kidney transplant which could keep him alive! But instead these money-making machines spend their ‘dosh’ on something much more important: booze, parties and… prostitutes? Somebody on the dole gets an average of £64 per week but football players get over £100,000 for participating in their hobby. If I had £100,000 per week for kicking a ball for 90 minutes, then life would be so sweet. But let’s get realistic, these perpetrators are leeching money out of the economy.
Another thing which really grinds my gears about football clubs, are the players who are meant to be the ‘role models’ but are more like the ‘laughing stock’, according to tabloid pictures being painted every day. In this formation is included the likes of John Terry, Ashley Cole, Peter Crouch and Wayne Rooney who are regularly regarded as sinners. I mean, no doubt Looney Rooney is a legend in the making but his latest euphemistic ‘off the pitch’ activity isn’t exactly what I would call ‘legend’ material. Rooney again can be used as a prime example of a premadonna ‘kicking off’ on the pitch, though he is much more well behaved now than last year. Last season, spectators watched uncomfortably at home, lip-reading every malicious, explicit word Wayne uttered to the ref as a goal, to make it 4-2, was disallowed whilst wearning his nation’s badge and colours. Also the manner some of these hooligans play this beautiful game is despicable; I mean if I was walking down the street and booted someone in the leg or even broke their leg, I would be receiving more than just a red piece of laminated paper, as a punishment, risen above my head as I walked away with my head ashamedly held down! So why do these players turn the artful game into a free-for-all kudos competition.
Now we all know that football is a great sport, bringing forth legends like Eric Cantona, George Best and the heroic Sir Bobby Charlton, but what about the downsides to this heroic game: exorbitant wages, inept role rodels and the never ending peer group pressure of football kit changes every year.
Firstly, I would like to talk about wages; now players like Wayne Rooney, Lionel Messi and Fernando Torres are on more than enough salary per year to clear Britain of its recession but do they have the heart to donate to charities? Even if it is only £10 of their staggering fortune, it will still help little Johnny, down the road, to get the kidney transplant which could keep him alive! But instead these money-making machines spend their ‘dosh’ on something much more important: booze, parties and… prostitutes? Somebody on the dole gets an average of £64 per week but football players get over £100,000 for participating in their hobby. If I had £100,000 per week for kicking a ball for 90 minutes, then life would be so sweet. But let’s get realistic, these perpetrators are leeching money out of the economy.
Another thing which really grinds my gears about football clubs, are the players who are meant to be the ‘role models’ but are more like the ‘laughing stock’, according to tabloid pictures being painted every day. In this formation is included the likes of John Terry, Ashley Cole, Peter Crouch and Wayne Rooney who are regularly regarded as sinners. I mean, no doubt Looney Rooney is a legend in the making but his latest euphemistic ‘off the pitch’ activity isn’t exactly what I would call ‘legend’ material. Rooney again can be used as a prime example of a premadonna ‘kicking off’ on the pitch, though he is much more well behaved now than last year. Last season, spectators watched uncomfortably at home, lip-reading every malicious, explicit word Wayne uttered to the ref as a goal, to make it 4-2, was disallowed whilst wearning his nation’s badge and colours. Also the manner some of these hooligans play this beautiful game is despicable; I mean if I was walking down the street and booted someone in the leg or even broke their leg, I would be receiving more than just a red piece of laminated paper, as a punishment, risen above my head as I walked away with my head ashamedly held down! So why do these players turn the artful game into a free-for-all kudos competition.
Friday, 24 September 2010
GCSE PAPER 1 Revision
How to Revise for Paper ONE Section A:
10 easy steps
1. pick up/read a range of non-fiction texts: newspapers, magazines, websites, autobiography, travel writing, biography, political cartoons, press advertisements etc
2. ALWAYS consider PURPOSE and AUDIENCE for everything you read- why is he/she writing this piece, who and what is it for, how does the writer achieve this?
3. identify as many LANGUAGE FEATURES/METHODS/DEVICES as you can.
4. for each of them, try to explain their intended effect on the audience
5. Look out for PRESENTATIONAL DEVICES (layout, pictures, font)
6. For each device, work out WHAT effect it has on you, the reader.
7. make sure you can COMPARE texts. Ask yourself, do the writers have similar views, how do they contrast or differ, do they make you feel differently about an issue, how and why do they make you feel differently?
8. USE spider diagrams to explore features of different text types e.g. consumer magazine, information leaflet
9. pick a text (e.g. newspaper article, leaflet, press advertisement) , use one highlighter pen to pick out key language features, and another colour to pick out presentational features
GCSE Revision PAPER 1 SECTION B
How to revise for Paper One Section B
In 10 easy steps:
1. revise the key phrases and features of writing to PERSUADE, ARGUE, ADVISE by making flash cards on A4 coloured paper
e.g. 5 persuasive devices on one side of the card with an example on the other side
- rhetorical questions Why are we allowing this?
- dare to disagree Everyone knows that…
- emotive language This horrific torture…
- presenting opinion as fact There is only one way to …
- using collective pronouns (‘we’ ‘us’) and second person (‘you’ ‘your’) Surely, we cannot let ….your conscience must tell you…
2. look at past paper questions on http://www.aqa.org.uk/qual/gcse/eng_a_assess.html
practise planning an answer in 10 minutes
3. practise writing under timed conditions. You have 45 minutes for this section.
4. the examiner wants to see that you can SHAPE your writing to suit a particular audience (e.g. teenagers, tourists, parents) and purpose (to make someone consider their view of something, to change their mind, to help them)
5. revise the key phrases and features of each text type (writing to persuade/argue/advise)
6. make sure you can use a good variety of devices and vocabulary
7. Look at this example question from last year’s exam, think about the PURPOSE and AUDIENCE of each text type and the devices and vocabulary you would need to get top ,marks in each one
(PERSUADE)
Write the text for a car advertisement aimed at young men, which persuades them to buy the car.
(ARGUE)
Write an article for a magazine aimed at teenagers in which you argue that students should be taught to drive at school.
(ADVISE)
Write an advice sheet for people who are newcomers to your area.
8. The writing task is usually connected by theme to the texts you have read for section A, so there might be some key vocabulary and ideas that you could use.
Sunday, 29 August 2010
Year 10
Your next GCSE Assignment is the first of the two Creative Writing controlled assessment tasks.
Commissions
Responding to a given brief
Your class teacher will decide which of the two tasks below you will be undertaking:
The web host of a creative writing website approaches you to submit some writing for it. This month‟s theme is “Change”. You have complete freedom in your choice of form, but are asked not to make what you submit longer than 1000 words.
Write your piece for the website.
Your local newspaper runs a weekly column called – “Don‟t Get Me Started On....!” – in which a guest columnist is asked to write a piece of between 500- 800 words.
Writers use the column as a place to comment on some aspect of modern life that annoys them. Some writers produce comic writing, others take a more serious approach.
Write your piece for this column.
The mark scheme for this task is to be found below.
The full syllabus can be found at the following address
http://store.aqa.org.uk/resourceZone/pdf/english/AQA-4705-W-SP.PDF
Should you still be unsure of how the syllabus is put together then go to the following links where a simplified overview is provided.
http://store.aqa.org.uk/resourceZone/pdf/english/AQA-ENGLANGA-W-TRB-SPG.PDF
CONGRATULATIONS
WELL DONE to Year 11!
The past year has proven yet again just how motivated pupils can be studying English at St. George's. Not only did you manage to gain the best ever examination results at the school with an 80% pass rate A*-C, but you beat the previous record gained by last year's leavers by 12%.
This is simply quite outstanding.
Well done!
Mr Carroll and the English Department
Monday, 26 July 2010
How do the courses function?
The following two images can be found @ the AQA website and provide a concise overview of all the work needing to be completed to gain a GCSE in English and Literature.
Shakespeare CA
WELL DONE TO ALL!
A particular area of strength seen from pupils was their desire to work exceptionally hard at home in preparing for this task; those who put in the effort reaped the rewards with some excellent marks gained.
One thing the new method of assessing pupils has shown, is that pupils who put in the effort at home certainly have a better chance of hitting their target grades, than those who don't, when they undertake the Controlled Assessment tasks.
Mr Carroll
Monday, 5 July 2010
CONTROLLED ASSESSMENT NEWS
Yr 9
ENGLISH MEMO
Re: Friday 9th July 2010
CONTROLLED ASSESSMENT
On Friday, all pupils in the Year will undertake their GCSE Literature Controlled Assessment task as part of the GCSE course.
You will attend English Lessons during Periods 1, 3 and 5 on Friday and have 2 hours to write your essay, consisting of 40 minutes per session.
You are allowed to have one page of planning notes in front of you which cannot be too detailed – a prepared draft, a detailed planning grid or any plagiarised text.
NO OTHER NOTES may be taken into the assessment.
You should use the next three days to revise your topic thoroughly, using all notes covered during lessons and be ready to undertake the task on Friday.
Once the task commences, the teacher is not permitted to give any assistance whatsoever so it is up to you to be fully prepared for the task,
Mr Carroll
ENGLISH MEMO
Re: Friday 9th July 2010
CONTROLLED ASSESSMENT
On Friday, all pupils in the Year will undertake their GCSE Literature Controlled Assessment task as part of the GCSE course.
You will attend English Lessons during Periods 1, 3 and 5 on Friday and have 2 hours to write your essay, consisting of 40 minutes per session.
You are allowed to have one page of planning notes in front of you which cannot be too detailed – a prepared draft, a detailed planning grid or any plagiarised text.
NO OTHER NOTES may be taken into the assessment.
You should use the next three days to revise your topic thoroughly, using all notes covered during lessons and be ready to undertake the task on Friday.
Once the task commences, the teacher is not permitted to give any assistance whatsoever so it is up to you to be fully prepared for the task,
Mr Carroll
Thursday, 24 June 2010
Saturday, 19 June 2010
Yr 9 Creative Writing comes to town
The Week Away
Rebecca Taylor
The blood soaked her t-shirt. Rivulets of water mixed with eyeliner and mascara streaked her face. ‘Please! Please help me!’ she cried. No one came. Her body heaved, convulsing in pain as an unbearable ache rocked through her body. Her limbs were on fire. She screamed piercingly through the dead silence of the wood. She gripped the rough tree trunk behind her and tried to force herself up. Her legs failed to support her, and she crashed to the ground. ‘Help!’ she cried. ‘Please.’ But all she could hear was the echo of her words, and her mind returned to what had happened two weeks ago.
It was a normal day in the life of Victoria Richardson, the ‘rich kid’ of the estate. She walked into school and people cleared the way for her. Boys would stop and stare. Girls clung to her arm and jabbered constant nothings into
She sauntered into Geography, 10 minutes late. Sir was just talking about a field trip. She personally hated Geography. There was no one to talk to. There were just geeks and nerds that only deserved to be contemptuously ignored. And her parents had made her take it, despite their obvious unnoticeable love toward her, as they were too busy with their own lives to bother with her. She hated her parents. Her thoughts were rudely interrupted when Mr. Ross tapped her lightly on the shoulder. ‘Miss Richardson?’ he said, and handed her the letter. It was still warm as she took it out of his hand. She briefly read it, skimming the most important parts quickly. ‘What the hell’ she thought and she decided to go. At least it would get her out of the house and away from the constant shouting of her house. And this tiny decision inexplicably changed her fate.
The bell rang.
“Matthew Hurley?” the one called rose cried. They burst out into laughter, and
As she stepped inside her house, the sound of rough, low arguments and mutterings greeted her. She sighed, and went up to her room. She signed her letter herself, she was very practised at it. She then decided she was bored. She picked up the book all her friends had been wittering on about. “…They stood out like angels in the school…” Her eyes caught that line, and she grinned smugly, knowing who that would have referred to in her school.
Saturday came quickly. Her pale white limbs lifted her bright purple suitcase, and she climbed onto the coach, 10 minutes late. They were off to
4 hours later, the coach was still going, but now the teachers were trying to make everyone happy, and sing some songs. The only two that were not participating were Victoria and Matt, who simultaneously bent down to get their iPods out of their bags. Matt switched on Metallica and Guns N Roses, whilst
Matt had got up late on Saturday, but had still made it in time to the trip. He sat down on the coach near the back. He had only agreed to come because Mr. Ross was a decent teacher. It looked like he was the last one on the coach, anyway. The mid-afternoon was alight with a tawny glow, and he admired this for a second, and then looked up to see the tall shadow crossed upon it. Victoria Richardson. The one person that made his scenery darken, but also glow at the same time. She was a horrible person, but my was she beautiful. Her brilliant green eyes met his in a look of pure contempt. She held them there; their eyes were locked in a death grip and Matt could hardly break away. She made her way over to him, her limbs moving elegantly across the coach. She sat neatly down next to him, almost on the edge of her seat, with certain poise about her. Neither of them bothered with a greeting, just turned their heads to face the opposite way.
“We’re here!” Mr. Ross’s voice joyously called out. Matt was asleep.
No wardrobe??? There were only two drawers?
“Hey, don’t laugh in his face,” Mr Urie said, annoyed, “You never take any notice of what he says. You are always so rude and ignorant! And I don’t even know why you came on this trip!”
The sun rose too early, too bright in the tantalisingly blue sky the next morning. Mr Ross, always cheerful, knocked on the girls’ dorm door. “Good day for a hike today, eh girls?” he said, “Get some good walking gear on,” But he didn’t come in and check they were awake, he just stalked off, no doubt to find Mr Urie.
Matt awoke abruptly with a start as Mr Ross and Mr Urie rapped loud on their door. “Boys, get up, we’re going hiking!!!” There were moans from all over the dorm, but it just made them laugh as they sang through the door. Matt realised it was one of his favourite bands, and this spurred him on as he got dressed, singing all the while.
Everyone met in the small hall downstairs for breakfast. Most people were dressed in shorts and tops that were relatively cheap and didn’t matter so much. Not
“Victoria?” Mr Urie called, and her head snapped up in answer. “You’re going to stay indoors today as your behaviour is unacceptable, and anyway, your clothes are completely inappropriate.” All
She silently smirked as they skipped out at around ten o clock. She then took out her headphones, and pressed play. 4 hours, a whole music library and 29 pages later,
She crept around the outskirts of the building, and she smelt the freshly painted gate, and wrinkled her nose. As the gate was already open, she simply stepped out and decided to go up the short hill on the other side of the wood. So, she made her way over to the lush green of the trees…
Matt had been on the hike for 7 hours now, and they were about to get into the coach to get back. It had been a long and weary walk, but contrastingly, it had been rather fun. He wondered what
The wood had looked so much more intimidating than it actually was. When
She lay on the sparkling grass on the hill, and smiled and shut her eyes. She loved to sunbathe, it was so relaxing, and she felt she could get away from all the troubles in her life if she just lay with her eyes shut, feeling the sun beat down on her body. As she lay there she thought about the week ahead and sighed in distaste. She felt her fatigue looming over her, and promptly fell asleep. Still in deep slumber, she had a disturbing dream. A stalker was following her, and it was terrifying. Just as he extended his arm toward her, she awoke, gasping and sweating. Her eyes slowly adjusted to the dark, and she realised – it was very late.
As the clock turned 9, Matt was worrying. He couldn’t go and tell Mr Ross, because him and Mr Urie had gone up to the staff room and locked the door, planning the week probably. Matt had been sat fretting for at least 10 minutes. He gave it another ten, and then decided to go look for her. He had a bad feeling that she was hurt in some way, and no one else would go look for her. He shrugged on his coat, and headed out into the night.
The blood soaked her t-shirt. Rivulets of water from the latest downpour, awash with tears, mascara and eyeliner streaked her face. “Please! Please help me!” She cried. No one came. Her body heaved as more blood escaped, convulsing as pain shocked through her body. Her limbs were on fire. She screamed piercingly through the dead silence of the wood. She gripped the rough tree trunk behind her and tried to force herself up, to no avail. She crashed once more to the ground, as her good leg failed to support her on its own. “Help!” she cried. “Please,” But all she could hear was the echo of her words.
Feeling truly alone, she looked over her life, all this time she had been alienating people-inevitably coming up to this moment. She thought of Matt and anyone else she’d previously thought she was better than, and felt a burning sense of regret. Finally realising everything she’d done and how she was now alone, she let her tears take over and she cried, shaking uncontrollably.
In the midst of this crying fit, a dark shadow had crept over her, and her breath caught, and she closed her eyes, not wanting to see who it was, not wanting anyone to see her in this state. “
Matt had found
“No problem,” she grinned, and sat down next to Matt eagerly. They chatted excitedly about the net trip, and discussed music and TV and books, and found out they weren’t all that different.
Footsteps
Nathan Taylor
The four men walked into the peaceful bank, their faces grim under their ski masks. They moved quickly along the tacky carpet. They came up to the plump cheerful receptionist. The leader pulled out a sawn of shotgun and carefully aimed it at the woman’s head. Her face went pale and sweat beads appeared on her forehead. She refused at first, but then the leader slowly loaded up his shotgun and she complied straight away with their demands, and then went straight for the alarm. The leader tried to stop her, but the wailing of the alarm filled the whole district. The gang looked around in panic, the wailing of the alarm was soon echoed by the wailing of a siren and soon the police blockaded the bank.
The four men looked around desperately, the arrogance of the leader evaporating quickly. He looked around and gestured to his gang, they set their malicious eyes on the helpless hostages on the floor...
They shuffled out of the bank, two holding hostages, a lady and her son; the police wet their lips nervously and looked to their superior who surveyed the scene with despair, whilst the robbers shuffled toward their getaway van. Indecisiveness shook the police, some yearning to shoot, but worried about hitting the civilians, but the robbers had already reached their beacon of escape: the van. One of them said “Boss, there’s only room for one hostage.” The leader harshly shoved the sobbing lady out and took her son, soon when the van was nearly out of earshot, 4 bullets echoed from within the van...
1 Year later...
The leader later escaped to an idyllic village, where the houses were marble white and the air was fresh and the sweet aroma of the bakery was present.
The leader had bought an immense mansion on a hill, overlooking the village and changed his name to Clive Johnson, severing all ties with his past. Just another anonymous face. As he stepped out of his mansion, he decided to drink at the local tavern and set off.
Halfway down the long cobbled street, his ears pricked up and he heard a noise, a slight pitter patter of feet. The footsteps matched his own, never quickening nor slowing down. Clive broke into sprint pace and hurled down the street. Eventually he slowed to a stop and gasped, his ears strained, but he heard nothing. He let out a relieved sigh and started walking again and heard the footsteps. He spun around and caught a glimpse of a shaggy maned boy and gulped.
He sprinted all the way to the tavern and soon reached the doors. He looked behind him, no one there. Clive released a breath he didn’t realise he had been holding and he steadied his hand against the tavern’s doors and pushed.
He was greeted by the barman with a smile and asked, “What would you like?” Clive sat down relieved and was just about to answer when he saw a wisp of hair behind the barman, who noticed the lack of attention and glanced behind, seeing nothing, Clive turned pale and lurched out of his seat to the toilet, knocking over a customer.
He stumbled over to the sink and splashed his face with cool refreshing water, he glanced up to the mirror and stared behind him. No one there.
He lurched out of the tavern, the barman staring after him inquisitively. Clive sprinted for home, the sun falling over the horizon and darkness engulfing everything. The cobbles of the street seemed intent on tripping him up, the wind howled and a fog descended. He tripped and cursed and prayed to a God he didn’t believe in. His prayers were answered as he approached the immaculate gates and raced through them up to his bedroom and clambered into his bed.
His hand scrambled for a weapon next to his nightstand, knocking over the cigarettes until his hand fastened around a lighter and ignited it to ward off his malignant stalker. His eyes scrutinized the darkness until he became weary and his eyes drooped and he drifted off.
He woke up in a cold sweat, panting, blinking and taking in his surroundings. There was a shape that materialised out of the darkness out of nothing at the end of his bed and took the form of the shaggy maned boy.
His eyes bulging, Clive fumbled with his lighter, ignited it and stared into unwavering, bloodshot eyes. Clive shrank back and tried jabbing the lighter. “What do you want with me?” The boy crept closer, his knees wrinkling the bed. A pungent smell of decay wafted across the room, making Clive gasp.
The boy’s pale hands parted his hair and revealed his face; Clive repeated “What do you want with me?” The boy replied “Do I look like someone you killed?”
Clive started with shock recognition; he flailed his arms and connected with the boy’s face, knocking him to the ground where he lay lifeless. Clive peered with confusion from his bed.
Instantly, the ghost started convulsing, his limbs flailing, and then he dissolved, leaving nothing but the black attire he had worn behind.
Then a figure erupted out of the clothes, tall and exuding an aura of danger. He turned his head towards Clive; it was a skull, as pale and luminous as the moon. His dark, pitiless sockets for eyes focused on Clive who waved his lighter feebly to ward him off. The skeleton laughed a high shrill laugh and said, “You don’t need lighters where you’re going...”
Wednesday, 12 May 2010
Yr 9 CONTROLLED ASSESSMENT
CHANGE OF DATES.
As a consequence of Citizenship taking up two lessons in the forthcoming weeks, the Department have decided to delay the assessment week to the week beginning 5th July.
THIS APPLIES TO ALL CLASSES.
This will provide you with an additional week's planning for this vital assignment to ensure that you are adequately prepared.
Mr Carroll
As a consequence of Citizenship taking up two lessons in the forthcoming weeks, the Department have decided to delay the assessment week to the week beginning 5th July.
THIS APPLIES TO ALL CLASSES.
This will provide you with an additional week's planning for this vital assignment to ensure that you are adequately prepared.
Mr Carroll
Tuesday, 27 April 2010
Ms Norris and Miss Richardson's Controlled Assessment
CONTROLLED ASSESSMENT DATE: Week Commencing 28th June
UNIT 3
Significance Of Shakespeare & English Literature Heritage
Extended Reading
Explore how Shakespeare shows Macbeth’s inner conflict, his feelings of doubt and how he is ‘manipulated’ to decide to kill the king in Act 1 Scene 7.
Mr Carroll's Controlled Assessment Task
CONTROLLED ASSESSMENT DATE: Week Commencing 28th June
UNIT 3
Significance Of Shakespeare & English Literature Heritage
Extended Reading
Explore how a hero is presented in the texts you have studied.
Romeo and Juliet – William Shakespeare
Great Expectations – Charles Dickens
Romeo Montague and Abel Magwitch are widely regarded as two of the most prominent tragic heroes, in light of how they are first presented to the audience. How do Shakespeare and Dickens utilise the opening of the play and novel respectively to present an initial perception of these characters?
Romeo Montague
1000 Words 2 hours Controlled Assessment
Abel Magwitch
1000 Words 2 hours Controlled Assessment
The Assignment is divided into two sections.
The analysis of Romeo is to be completed during Term 3 of Year 9 and Abel Magwitch in Term 3 of Year 10. Both sections carry an equal weighting and there is no opportunity to complete the tasks again in the future.
What you produce in the Controlled Assessment carries towards your GCSE Grade. It is essential therefore that you produce work of a standard which you will be happy to submit to the Examination Board when you leave school in Year 11.
UNIT 3
Significance Of Shakespeare & English Literature Heritage
Extended Reading
Explore how a hero is presented in the texts you have studied.
Romeo and Juliet – William Shakespeare
Great Expectations – Charles Dickens
Romeo Montague and Abel Magwitch are widely regarded as two of the most prominent tragic heroes, in light of how they are first presented to the audience. How do Shakespeare and Dickens utilise the opening of the play and novel respectively to present an initial perception of these characters?
Romeo Montague
1000 Words 2 hours Controlled Assessment
Abel Magwitch
1000 Words 2 hours Controlled Assessment
The Assignment is divided into two sections.
The analysis of Romeo is to be completed during Term 3 of Year 9 and Abel Magwitch in Term 3 of Year 10. Both sections carry an equal weighting and there is no opportunity to complete the tasks again in the future.
What you produce in the Controlled Assessment carries towards your GCSE Grade. It is essential therefore that you produce work of a standard which you will be happy to submit to the Examination Board when you leave school in Year 11.
Mr Cameron's Controlled Assessment Task
CONTROLLED ASSESSMENT DATE: Week Commencing 28th June
Task
Task
Controlled Assessment
Significance of Shakespeare and the English Literary Heritage
Extended
Explore the ways writers present conflict in the texts you have studied.
Romeo and Juliet – William Shakespeare
Great Expectations – Charles Dickens
The Question
Compare the ways conflict is presented through the experiences of Romeo and Pip in “Romeo and Juliet” by William Shakespeare and “Great Expectations” by Charles Dickens.
Romeo Montague
1000 words 2 hours Controlled Assignment
Pip
1000 words 2 hours Controlled Assignment
The Assignment is divided into two sections.
The analysis of the way conflict is presented through the experience of Romeo is to be completed during term 3 of Year 9 and the analysis of the way conflict is presented through the experience of Pip is to be completed in Term 3 of Year 10. Both sections carry an equal weighting and there is no opportunity to complete the tasks again in the future.
What you produce in the Controlled Assessment carries towards your GCSE Grade. It is essential therefore that you produce work of a standard which you will be happy to submit to the Examination Board when you leave school in Year 11.
Ms Norris + Miss Richardson's Work for Controlled Assessment
Year 9 Controlled Assessment Task
Context: Macbeth’s fatal flaw is his ambition and determination to become King. Other characters within ‘Macbeth’ take advantage of this weakness. Therefore, when Macbeth comes to kill
Question – How does Shakespeare reveal Macbeth’s inner conflict (his feelings of doubt) and, how is he manipulated to decide to kill the King in Act 1, Scene 7?
Weekly Plan
Week 1 - beginning 17th May
Introduce the question and check students understand task
Emphasise the importance of CA – 25% of literature marks
Explore social and historical context to play ie. Witchcraft, Divine Right of Kings etc.
Read and watch beginning of play up until Act 1, Scene 7 to provide context
Homework – Diary entry for Lady Macbeth after Act 1, Scene 5 describing her concerns for her husband and what she plans to do.
Week 2 – Beginning 24th May
Read/watch Act 1, Scene 7 UNDERSTANDING
Explore purpose and dramatic effects of soliloquy
Main questions to be discussed: what is revealed about characters of Macbeth and Lady Macbeth and their relationship?
How is this a turning point in the play?
Homework – diary entry for Macbeth describing the decisions that he has made and his admiration for his wife.
Week 3 – Beginning 7th June
Explore the process of essay writing – Writing an introduction to an essay
SECTION 1 of essay – MODEL
Homework – re-draft introduction
Week 4 – Beginning 14th June
SECTION 2 of essay – Exploration of Macbeth’s soliloquy
Work in pairs – students rewrite into ‘modern language’ the soliloquy
How does it reveal Macbeth’s feelings? Analysis of language and dramatic techniques
MODEL
Homework – re-draft section 2
Week 5 – Beginning 21st June
SECTION 3 of essay - Read rest of scene and explore conversation between Macbeth and his wife – how does Lady Macbeth persuade him to kill
MODEL
Homework – re-draft section 3
Week 6 – Beginning 28th June
Writing a conclusion – MODEL
Clarify purpose/importance of CA and plan for CA next week
Homework – students to re-draft Conclusion and plan for CA next week
Week 7 – Beginning 5th July
UNDERTAKE CONTROLLED ASSESSMENT
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