Today we researched about groups work for peace and justice. My groups researched was about Red Cross. Red Cross is an helpful organization that helps countries and people world wide.
Anger feels like Letting your rage out
A clenched fist
Blood, salty sweat
Growling and yelling
Rough and hot
Like a red face
Anger smells like danger
Shouting and screaming
Painful and hurtful
Madness and crazy actions of destruction
A fire raging and growing limitlessly
Anger is the emotion we want to show or not
It starts when we get upset about something
A collaborative poem written by all of room 8. This poem expresses our feelings about anger looking through the eyes of Arlo from Arlo and the orca by Monique walker.
This week Monique and Stacey came to class and presented Moniques book. We learnt that it’s okay to cry and that life can be moody, stormy with waves of emotion but to remember the sun will always come back and shine.
I just want thank Monique and Stacey for arriving to our class and presenting there book to us.
We should care for our community instead of ruining it. Our community needs to be loved and not stood down.
They are kind and comforting
Teachers and my crazy classmates
Wild but silent
They have talent and skills
I will miss memories with my friends
Everyone and everything.
We make decisions according to our conscience. I have created an ordered process to help work through my decisions according to my Christian values.
Arriving at a new school is a massive kick in the head. Speaking english was hard since I came from Afghanistan. English was like trying to understand physics. Kids were looking at me as if I was a ghost. Worried if my anxiety would strike me. The breeze passing by with a scent of ham sandwiches. Students cackled and laughed. Others glanced while others stumbled with disappointment. It’s hard. I couldn’t do anything except pretend. ” Ring Ring” I zoomed out of the class straight to the library. Reading books and books. Learning new words. During lunch I would learn the game of rugby. Lots of thumping, clashing and sprinting. The first day was great and challenging. I love this new lifestyle and hope I get better at english. I never want to see anyone struggle ever again.
Arriving at the Palapa. Placing our items on the boat all cramping onto a tight spot. There were about 400 of us leaving and we were escaping on a small boat. I was concerned. Our adventure starts not knowing what’s ahead of us. Hours and hours go by. Sadly still nothing. Nothing but just water. The heat was burning us to a crisp. People mumbling, sweat dripping, water splashing, the Palapa tumbling. The haunting smell of sweat horrifies me. This adventure couldn’t get worse. We created a SOS incase we get in contact with rescuers. Without a sound we all look up into the sky. “Hey there’s a plane,” someone yells. Everybody gets up with excitement yelling and screeching. Dolefully, the plane just flies by. With no luck the engine fails. ‘SNAP’ something broke. “The boats coming apart”. The boat starts to collapse. We all panicked trying to stay calm. Morning came. Still safe and alive. Eventually a kind man saved us. Boarding us onto his cargo ship relieved and grateful. We are now all safe on the Tampa.
A cold misty night. I’m woken up by a terrified, stubborn mother. Still no clue on what’s happening. “Abbas, Abbas wake up, we have to leave. The bus is here.” Eyes still shut, unable to see. Rapidly gripping items that I touch. The sound of hearts beating and heavy breathing. Sprinting out the door to the outside world. Crunching leaves, engine up and running, gas flowing through the air. The Taliban are crazy menacing people who don’t care. Entering the bus, ready to leave. Leaving my home I couldn’t believe. Tears flowing down my mothers face. Trembling with fear. Others pray while others hide away. My mind is a black hole. No thought of words, just silence. With just hope and faith we make it through the night.
For this activity I created a diary entry. This diary entry is based on Abbas Nazari who was a 7 years old when he escaped the Taliban. The first diary entry is when I get onto the bus going to the boat.
We created roll and write poems as a class. My group put together a ‘what scares you’ poem of what each students thought scared them the most. This was a really creative, interesting task and hope to do it again.
Here is the poem I created:
I recreated an art piece that was created by Tupaia along time ago in Uawa. This was Tupaia most famous drawing. In the actual art piece Tupaia drew himself trading a crayfish to Joseph Banks who is trading back a white tapa cloth. Tupaia was a master navigator and a man of mana. He knew how to speak a number of different polynesian languages.