tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2114201207568723462024-03-05T19:57:55.467+13:00Toreka Pt England SchoolI am a Year 8 student at Pt England School in Auckland, NZ. I am in Room 21 and my teacher is Mrs Lagitupu.Talanoa Maihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13775135805453929438noreply@blogger.comBlogger189125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-211420120756872346.post-54544442585981689932014-09-03T09:53:00.000+12:002014-09-03T09:53:45.609+12:00Call Out - 10EAD Memoir<div dir="ltr" style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-size: 15px; line-height: 17.25px; white-space: pre-wrap;">If I fail Electronics this semester it's because of Mrs Nua. I wouldn't be missing out on the valued information that is Electronics if it wasn't for the "subtle" pressure to post something. But anyway, this is a memoir we were assigned to write for English Ad. (Language may slightly offend. But probably not. So this very sentence is wasting your time. Okay go read now.)</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">He stood there. Watching. I stood there. About to crap my lavalava. "</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">They probably locked him up," </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">she says. "</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Dad will be outside"</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> she says. I didn't dare to even gulp, let alone move. There was no way I was risking </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">anything, </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: bold; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">especially </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">with him</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">. </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">'</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Pleeeeaaaaaaaase Lord. I'll do it another time. </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: bold; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Please,</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> just not now,' </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I internally cried. '</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">So this is it. This is how it ends. A church carpark. Alone.' </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I allowed myself one shaky breath out. '</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Lord please don't let me die like this." </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">As if hearing my pathetic plead, the malicious bastard practically galloped towards me. '</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Why thank you Universe!' </span></div>
<b id="docs-internal-guid-e8ee5879-3855-0d84-404c-8029cb0076c8" style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Stupid tears begin to blur my vision, ruining my staunch appearance. I tightened my buttocks in a weak attempt to stop crying. '</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Why did </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: bold; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">have to walk down? I'm a girl, I'm not meant to even be walking around at this time.' </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">While I stood there feeling sorry for my self, Mr. I'mMeantToBeLockedUp encircled my pathetic excuse of a defensive stance. I contemplated calling for help, but if anyone was to hear the faintest of my plea, it would be the minister. Then again he would probably be so engrossed in the new X Factor episode to hear. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Sniffing the air, the fat lump of hair's attention recabrilated to a corner of the carpark, where some small rodent crashed about. I don't think I'd ever been so thankful for rats before. Hope now present, but still miniscule. With his back now turned to me, I took this opportunity to attempt a sprint back home. Back to those ghastly two people. Feeding me false information, practically endangering my life. My mum and brother. I dared to step backwards, the heel of my jandal slapping against the cold rubble. '</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">No one will even see you,' </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">she says, '</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">just wear the jandals'</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> she says. The sound echoed through the carpark, not really helping my case. At all. </span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Any form of hope diminished the milli-second his ears perked up. He whirled around charging full speed at me. Barking, teeth bared, eyes burning - the works. I screamed pathetically when I realised I was basically going to die. </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I hadn't even been in a school production yet</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">. I heard him whimper but didn't bother to stop, </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">he was probably just trying to trick me.</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> Another whimper and I dared to glance over my shoulder, out of breath. I was shocked really. No, not that Caesar had now sat watching me intently, and not trying to kill me. Someone had stopped him. The world no longer had the possibility of suffering the grief aspect of my amazingness being absent. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">My minister called out, smiling and patting the dog,</span></div>
<br /><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">"Call out next time!"</span>Toreka Thttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14988733993708232354noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-211420120756872346.post-9741707221231944772014-06-09T21:45:00.002+12:002014-06-09T21:45:56.980+12:00Where I Am From<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="281" mozallowfullscreen="" src="//player.vimeo.com/video/96408502" webkitallowfullscreen="" width="500"></iframe> <br />
<a href="http://vimeo.com/96408502">Where I Am From</a> from <a href="http://vimeo.com/user6045061">SchoolTV</a> on <a href="https://vimeo.com/">Vimeo</a>.<br />
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Recently in my Social Studies class, we've been focusing on migrants and immigration regarding New Zealand. Our task was to create a project showing where you/ your ancestors have come from, why they've come etc. regarding immigration in any medium.<br />
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I chose to create a movie based on my grandparents, (you know seeing as I'm all techy and stuff...)<br />
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I particularly enjoyed creating this movie as it actually gave me a better understanding of why/how my grandparents got to Auckland/NZ. It has certainly given me an even higher of the respect I already have for my grandparents, simply hearing about all the issues that happened along the way.<br />
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Huge credit to my grandparents for making the decision to move for their children, let alone agreeing to be interviewed for this.<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;">Thank you, I literally wouldn't be here without you.</span></span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;">❤</span>Toreka Thttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14988733993708232354noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-211420120756872346.post-65289381492353030232014-03-02T20:01:00.003+13:002014-03-02T20:01:40.322+13:00Glen Innes.<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">In English we have been reading Karlo Mira's poem : Octopus Auckland. The poem recognises the daily antics of each suburb in Auckland and her feelings towards it. Our job, was to create our own 'tentacle' to what we see in our suburb.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvYzLYLNMc02llaD0l7vBz2m7JoIBG1ZayrWpKcDqi5-hEuqhvoop0a2xfw4E1SNGtdiWqbnuJTyybOicWVywpbtAJ0eipc4aSOvN_cgpUoEEiQUgAebF20TPSWDtGKTVDZm_D_XEQclE/s1600/Screen+Shot+2014-03-02+at+7.55.02+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvYzLYLNMc02llaD0l7vBz2m7JoIBG1ZayrWpKcDqi5-hEuqhvoop0a2xfw4E1SNGtdiWqbnuJTyybOicWVywpbtAJ0eipc4aSOvN_cgpUoEEiQUgAebF20TPSWDtGKTVDZm_D_XEQclE/s1600/Screen+Shot+2014-03-02+at+7.55.02+PM.png" height="112" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">In Glen Innes</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The road is littered with awkward sized ‘islands’</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Decorated by the green taro leaves</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The paint faded people movers run them over</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The elderly ladies run out of their state houses yelling at the passer-byers</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The T.C students laugh too loud at the sight</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">On their way to the library</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The walk staunchly</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Scaring off the other schools</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Passing their friends aunty</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">In her woollen socks and grandson’s nike sandals</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">She sips from her dollar 'Starz' drink</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">And hums the familiar Tongan tune</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Sang at the church on the corner, that was meant to be a house</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">We pass it every Sunday</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The kids yell out things in Tongan</span></div>
<span id="docs-internal-guid-460001b0-818a-83ec-aa66-05c51802280c"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I see them sometimes when I walk to the train station</span></span><br />
<span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">At the bakery</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;">The same one my Papa used to buy potato tops from</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;">The same one we go to after school.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;">My friends ask where my church is.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;">The one on the corner, I tell them.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;">The blue one.</span></span>Toreka Thttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14988733993708232354noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-211420120756872346.post-49571627527198468862013-09-29T19:44:00.000+13:002013-09-29T19:44:38.855+13:00Cultural Interaction in Australia (SST Essay)<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Ever since they arrived in Australia in 1788, the European travellers looked down on the Aboriginal race. The first cultural interaction between the two different cultures involved the dispossession of their land and was only resolved a few years ago. The effects of what the Australian government had caused, and the responses of today’s Australian society, is what will be explained in the following paragraphs.</span></div>
<b id="docs-internal-guid-3540230d-6873-d56d-d435-ea442ae56665" style="font-weight: normal;"><br /><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span></b>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">In 1910, the Australian government made the decision to ‘breed out’ the Aboriginal race. They actually made a </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: bold; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">plan </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">to get rid of the Aborigines. This plan consisted of the following six steps:</span></div>
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<li dir="ltr" style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; list-style-type: decimal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"><div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Leave the full-blooded Aborigines out in their reserves to die.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Take away the mixed raced children and make them into brown-skinned British citizens.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Let them marry the lower-class whites.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">In a few generations, the darker colour would be bred out.</span></div>
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<li dir="ltr" style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; list-style-type: decimal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"><div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The old reserves could be sold off to farmers and mining companies.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The Aboriginal race would cease to exist.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Only steps 1 - 4 were almost executed, but were stopped when the Australian government finally realised that what they were doing was wrong. The victims of this plan are now called the ‘Stolen Generations’ referring to the young children who were forcibly removed from their families, and culture, never to be spoken of, let alone heard from again. </span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span></b>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">These children were put into ‘camps’ where they were taught the ways of a British citizen. Most times, the Aboriginal girls would be sexually abused by missionaries, and were seen as a source of slavery or cheap labour. Once the children had reached the age of eighteen, they would be released into the white society, most of them emotionally scarred for life. Statistics show that an Indigenous Australian is 11 times more likely to be in prison then a non-Indigenous Australian. They are depressed, because of the loss of family. These issue was resolved by special programmes run in centers for the indigenous people to talk about their actions, and reflect and discuss how these things could improve. To help try and connect families back together, the Healing Foundation was formed, helping heal families’ losses.</span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span></b>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">As I mentioned in my introduction, three hundred square meters were taken from the Aborigines for mining companies in 1963. This affected the Indigenous Australians quite hugely, because they believe that they belong to the land. They were known for never settling in one place, so when their land was removed, it took a huge part of their tradition with it. This matter was only resolved in 1971 where the government gave the Aborigines 40% of the Northern Territory of Australia.</span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span></b>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">In Australia today, we don’t see as many Aborigines as we do Europeans. What we </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: bold; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">do</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> see today is a lot more half-castes. Well even more than that, probably quarter-casts, or even eighth-casts! This could mean loss of culture. It probably does mean loss of culture, loss of language, of tradition. It isn’t easy growing in society where you don’t know who you are. These feelings and emotions the Stolen Generations had to deal with, are now being minimized due to the creation of cultural Aboriginal programmes. In these programmes, people of all ages are taught the ways of the Aborigines. They are taught song, dance, language, and the traditional face and body painting. This has been a very positive affect, as many kids feel more confident in themselves, knowing their culture and traditions.</span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span></b>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">A National Sorry day was requested in May 1997, but was rejected because the Australian government at the time said that “the blame would be pointed at the current government.” An official National Sorry Day, was held on the 26th of May 1998 and has been celebrated by all of Australia since. Kevin Rudd (Australian Prime minister from 2007-2013) decided to announce an official ‘apology’ to all the Stolen Generations. The twenty five minute speech was watched by the entire nation. Even in the Aboriginal reserves, where special screens and monitors were set up, so all could see and listen. All was forgiven, but it will take time to forget.</span></div>
<br /><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Years of resentment have been caused due to the racial tension between the European and Aborigines. This is a problem that might not be so easy to respond to. Australia is a multi-cultural country now. So accepting people will have to be more common now, wouldn’t it? Yes, Aboriginal people were treated very poorly, but that was in the past, and now Australia is doing everything they can to mend the broken families, and their broken hearts. The point is, Australia is trying, this shows that they do care. Why wouldn’t they? I mean, Kevin Rudd could be a sixteenth Aboriginal for all I know!</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">(This was my essay for my Social Studies assesment.)</span></div>
Toreka Thttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14988733993708232354noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-211420120756872346.post-10333529768659043252013-06-23T21:56:00.002+12:002013-06-23T21:58:15.145+12:00The Misunderstanding of Rumpelstiltskin<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">In my English class, we are learning about storytelling. Our task was to either write an original piece or to rewrite a classic. I chose to rewrite the story of Rumpelstiltskin. The following is my final edit.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">Oh blast the evil queen and her wicked ways! If it wasn't for her malicious doings, I wouldn't be scattered across this overgrown field of barren grass. You’d think she’d have the decency to at least store my ashes safely in a vase or jar of some sort. But no, here I am disseminated among the beetles and dead worms on Mount Rumpel. You may know me as the man who spun gold for a miller’s daughter, or the man who tried to steal the queen’s first child. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">Not one soul knows the truth about me. After what the king had done, who would? This king, is my Father. I was the first royal child and how happy the kingdom was that the king had given birth to a boy. However, I was not good enough for my father. 'A waste of riches and royalty' peasants complained. Of course no man would want such a hirsute child! I was born with Ambras Syndrome and Dwarfism. My birth caused the death of my mother. It was too much for my Father to take in, so the guards were ordered to take me to the farthest mountain and be left there. I was to be named so ridiculously so that no one would remember my name. And so, I was named Rumpelstiltskin. It was against the law to speak of me. I was to be forgotten. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">The kingdom gates were locked, no one was to leave - no one was to enter, despite the annual visit of the king’s friend who was an old miller. It was 25 years on - the kingdom was falling apart. The king’s greed had increased so much he became crazy. Nothing was ever enough for him. He demanded taxes to rise so high workers were left with nothing but a penny. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">In the wild, I was forced to scavenge for food. The only option I was left with, was the feculent sewers that ended at the bottom of Mt Rumpel. The day came when the miller visited, and he had brought along his daughter. This was the usual time I snuck around the kingdom, as all the focus would be on the miller. From the sewer drains I watched as they walked together to the castle, all eyes glued on their faded pastel clothes. Many of the young fellows tripped over themselves trying to impress the passing maiden. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">I was squeezing my plump tush through the rails when I saw a window open in one of the higher rooms of the castle. I crept along the dusty streets of the kingdom and crawled up the staircases. I finally reached what I thought was a room of wood. Slowly opening the door, I felt shivers slither up my spine, the miller’s daughter! Much more quickly, I began to close the door until the girl started to cry. My piliferous ears pricked up and listened to her, “Why, how am I meant to spin straw into gold?!” she sobbed. I couldn't believe my hairy little ears. I turned back and peeped my head in. “AAAAAAAAH!!!” she screamed. "What an ugly little troll! Ugh! Be gone! Leave at once! What a hideous sight!"</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">I walked back out and grumbled, "Well I guess that straw won’t be spun into gold, will it?" "You! You can spin straw to gold!?!?! Well what are you waiting for!?!?! SPIN!!!" She grasped the collar of my filthy shirt and dragged me to the spinning wheel. "My existance is depending on this!! NOW SPIIN!!!" I rubbed the back of my neck and asked, "What will you give me?" "What will I give you?! What do you mean?” she laughed “Oh, I suppose I could spare you some straw and you shall spin your own gold." I sat for a further few seconds. "SPIN FOR CRYING OUT LOUD!" she shrieked, and in one swift motion, her necklace of stones was removed from her neck and heading towards my bearded face. I dodged the piece of jewellery and quickly got to work.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">The night was reaching its' end when I had finished. I sat there awkwardly expecting a compliment or reward of some sort. "Um, maiden? Where shall I slumber?" She looked dumbly around the small room. "Why, there is no need to rest! The morning is dawning, now leave! The king must think I have spun this on my own! But if you see that my father and I have not left by midday tomorrow, return to the palace, or I shall take your life. Now go!"</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">I did as I was told to, and returned the next day as they had not left yet. Again I was to spin straw to gold, but this time, the amount was much more immense. "What will you give me?" I asked. The girl sighed, "Oh if you MUST have something, let it be my ring! For it is made of the finest gold!" But I, am no idiot. Why, it was simply painted silver! But I accepted the offer anyway. And away I spun. It wasn't till the next day I had completed the task. I tried to leave. But I was met with a very loud, firm growl as I opened the door. "You must not leave!”, she yelled, "For the king has plans for me to spin even more!" Footsteps made their way up the staircase and towards the room we were in. The girl picked me up and placed me in her bag.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">Later that night we were brought to an even bigger room of straw. The king said if she was to complete the task, she would be announced the new queen. She turned the bag upside down, and I tumbled out. She laughed evilly, "Why, if you spin ALL this straw to gold, I swear on my mother's grave I will give you my first child!" She carried on laughing while I got to work. I finally slipped out of the city and back to my shaggy hut.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">It wasn't long at all until the echoes of gossiping teenagers reached my mountain. She had given birth to a baby boy. Once I reached the castle, I walked into the realms of the King and Queen and they both were horrified at the sight of me. "Why! Could it really be?!" the king exclaimed. "You know this man?" she asked him. "Why, is that you my son? I've been looking everywhere for you!!" he sarcastically announced. I looked at him lamely then looked to the queen. "Where is my promised prize?" I asked. "Why, NO! NEVER! I WILL NEVER EVER GIVE YOU MY CHILD!!!" she screeched. The king asked her and she explained all that had happened. "I knew you were no good!" and with that been said, he took hold of his torch and within seconds I was set ablaze.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">So that is my story. My name is Rumpelstiltskin, and my ashes have been scattered across Mount Rumpel. My father neglected me when I was child, as did everybody else. I was just a man who's intentions were good, but I've been simply misunderstood.</span></span></div>
Toreka Thttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14988733993708232354noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-211420120756872346.post-79469263540424301022013-04-07T20:26:00.002+12:002013-04-07T20:26:28.999+12:009EAD Assignment : Bizarre Paradise<b id="internal-source-marker_0.6371198140550405"></b><br />
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<b id="internal-source-marker_0.6371198140550405"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 16px; font-weight: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">"The jaws that bite, the claws that catch." Not your ideal catch phrase for paradise. But indeed Jabberwocky is one beautiful, odd planet. The element of bizarre starts with the planet in general. It's basically an enormous ball of tangled green tentacles weighing in at half the weight and mass of earth. Jabberwocky is also the only planet in the known universe which has a sustainable atmosphere despite having two suns. In order for the planet surface to cope with the prolonged exposure to the sun, the anaconda-like appendages roll over every two hours.</span></b></div>
<b id="internal-source-marker_0.6371198140550405"><br /><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 16px; font-weight: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span><div dir="ltr" style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 16px; font-weight: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The frumzple is a plant similar to the cactus species on earth. Instead of the flesh inside the cactus, lies rows of 5 cm pearls. At each ending of a cactus branch, blooms a yellow hibiscus holding a much smaller pearl, which is in the shade of a more green sort. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 16px; font-weight: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The greatest animal species has been recorded as the bandersnatch. Bandersnatches are aggressive K9-like animals, coated with piliferous manes of black fur. It shares many similarities with man’s best friend. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 16px; font-weight: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Jabberwocky’s source of liquid is what we now call h3o.This is because instead of two atoms of hydrogen, there are 3, meaning the liquid is much more thinner than water. H30 is the result of the planet’s appendages’ movement, similar to our human sweat, hydrating Jabberwocky so it is prepared to endure in the sun for another two hours.</span></div>
<br /><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 16px; font-weight: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 16px; font-weight: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> In various parts of earth we humans have adapted to the extreme conditions. How one survives in the Pacific is very different to how you survive in Antarctica. These challenges we’ve overcome and lived through for thousands of years. Our next challenge is whether we can adapt to the planet of Jabberwocky, it’ habitants, it’s flora, it’s fauna and it’s environment.</span></b><br />
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<span style="vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">(Information given is confirmed imagination. Nothing affects our existence. Have a nice day.)</span></span></span>Toreka Thttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14988733993708232354noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-211420120756872346.post-62886875223096292972013-03-24T19:12:00.000+13:002013-03-24T19:13:29.456+13:009EAD Assignment : Landing on Jabberwocky<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
In my 9EAD class, we are studying the planet fo 'Jabberwocky.' Our class has been split up into groups according to which team we applied for. On board the S.S Explorer, there are five different teams which are the navigation team, the wild-life exploration team, the medical team, security and defence, and the extra-terrestrial group, which I am in. In my team I am the 'indigenous ethics advisor.' There are about 5 or 6 students in each team. During class sessions, our room is sometimes transformed into the ship and our desks are swapped for panels or surgery tables and other things each team needs. We have just landed and our assignment is to draw what we saw while exploring the planet of Jabberwocky. Here are my 6 snapshots.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbqR-rgYmPRseMD5IAUVpkoY43-i0A_Gzye5DH8JQlw5yA2y7Zqt4OKGno-57b8d4L_gWw7yr9fpWitS6_xHmPlWvQ_ZS8M-pq0DxPzVES49Efv1_AN7azcPc3FXjTwUpmLKCxEBoW0qA/s1600/Reka+9EAD+Jabberwockey001.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbqR-rgYmPRseMD5IAUVpkoY43-i0A_Gzye5DH8JQlw5yA2y7Zqt4OKGno-57b8d4L_gWw7yr9fpWitS6_xHmPlWvQ_ZS8M-pq0DxPzVES49Efv1_AN7azcPc3FXjTwUpmLKCxEBoW0qA/s320/Reka+9EAD+Jabberwockey001.png" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Establishing shot of planet Jabberwocky</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcJncXiH2S89qdOIgi9ZvRTXUA2QRGkrE8o9PLsfpfe89aDb7jb-R81rkxf_TmXDGONuRo1OFTAzw6np-HKv-wOOU44BprZNteQamw-ni43NIEF5hyJODth86FOYhGhK0LjuHyf6lBSUc/s1600/Reka+9EAD+Jabberwockey002.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcJncXiH2S89qdOIgi9ZvRTXUA2QRGkrE8o9PLsfpfe89aDb7jb-R81rkxf_TmXDGONuRo1OFTAzw6np-HKv-wOOU44BprZNteQamw-ni43NIEF5hyJODth86FOYhGhK0LjuHyf6lBSUc/s320/Reka+9EAD+Jabberwockey002.png" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Close up shot of Jabberwocky plant : Frumzple.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgz996Jde_oaOpoEySVCWuB7f4LWWG6FGhmqrqxtbdNPlCAaglj3GgIZR4skttoKoICbptytjSZUdpcJBGDzLCpeDWnAJuNnaOlyDAlDTxUOSBWS0S0LbrioDZydyiYE8b3Cg9BHbi-Vj4/s1600/Reka+9EAD+Jabberwockey003.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgz996Jde_oaOpoEySVCWuB7f4LWWG6FGhmqrqxtbdNPlCAaglj3GgIZR4skttoKoICbptytjSZUdpcJBGDzLCpeDWnAJuNnaOlyDAlDTxUOSBWS0S0LbrioDZydyiYE8b3Cg9BHbi-Vj4/s320/Reka+9EAD+Jabberwockey003.png" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Medium shot of extra-terrestrial.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_8E6qDrZqhQPnR7jIj6_jYbv_cpMnt5wZSYDxkQ5PS-tLexMt9kV7mO9Ah_hJFFCLtX8rk0-V9CC9gBxhvo7bElQ7qolYp23c5zrDuaJo_PCJYMocGfDrPmBByEhEj_9gBqkrbR0eNwc/s1600/Reka+9EAD+Jabberwockey004.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_8E6qDrZqhQPnR7jIj6_jYbv_cpMnt5wZSYDxkQ5PS-tLexMt9kV7mO9Ah_hJFFCLtX8rk0-V9CC9gBxhvo7bElQ7qolYp23c5zrDuaJo_PCJYMocGfDrPmBByEhEj_9gBqkrbR0eNwc/s320/Reka+9EAD+Jabberwockey004.png" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Extreme close up shot of Extra Terrestrial body part.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFwh3xyN4Gz2E2dLs_dridWGdxXkIV4dOLMbNsqlN8C1UFkSlT9_AyXTt9hfElwfff9LRypX3OCmg1vjs2bZ2tSTzlJFt1BLnSRA9OYON22q_nakLhetHiv0LPFdnsIA_UYKz7agEZ3XQ/s1600/Reka+9EAD+Jabberwockey005.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFwh3xyN4Gz2E2dLs_dridWGdxXkIV4dOLMbNsqlN8C1UFkSlT9_AyXTt9hfElwfff9LRypX3OCmg1vjs2bZ2tSTzlJFt1BLnSRA9OYON22q_nakLhetHiv0LPFdnsIA_UYKz7agEZ3XQ/s320/Reka+9EAD+Jabberwockey005.png" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">High shot of S.S Explorer landing zone.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIvOS6huDCKZGpR8QeIdEUfXldX7ye2uiWE4OKusSEKEEhCXfP0sQgcqn1r0cDZFUQfVK_JOdoU45EBmPoY0lhuO1Aufzd_4HKbd5_0QEf0a_5G5jKXPrB6X8cfZNA5BXYwEWvPygWHtQ/s1600/Reka+9EAD+Jabberwockey006.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIvOS6huDCKZGpR8QeIdEUfXldX7ye2uiWE4OKusSEKEEhCXfP0sQgcqn1r0cDZFUQfVK_JOdoU45EBmPoY0lhuO1Aufzd_4HKbd5_0QEf0a_5G5jKXPrB6X8cfZNA5BXYwEWvPygWHtQ/s320/Reka+9EAD+Jabberwockey006.png" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Low angle of S.S Explorer.</td></tr>
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Toreka Thttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14988733993708232354noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-211420120756872346.post-72556784872616788512013-02-27T21:01:00.001+13:002013-02-27T21:13:40.215+13:00News 101 : The Latest Updates Of My LifeIt must've been the first time I'd woken up before my parents, that day. Thursday, it was. I arose from my anxious slumber and went to wash my heavy eyes. Click. The bathroom was illuminated. The lightbulb seemed extra bright that morning, as if it knew how special the day was. The 31st of January.<br />
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I took my Pt England jacket, and held it up to the light, admiring the curvy red lines over the somber black fabric. I held it against myself, as I gazed at my reflection, tilting my head so I was able to see down the hall. My mother was now awake. She told me off for taking too long in the bathroom. I returned to my room, carefully and ever so gently placed my jacket down on my bed. I sighed to myself and settled onto my unmade bed, which was something else I might've got in trouble for. As I sat, I thought about the processes I might have had to go through during the day.<br />
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I was starting at another school. I was leaving Pt England. My beloved home, my beloved teachers, my beloved technology, my beloved friends. But yes, I was starting at a new school. College, as a matter of fact. I would have to change my email template : <i>'Toreka Tele'a, Room 21, Pt England School.'</i> I thought deeper about it. <i>'Toreka Tele'a, 9LC, Auckland Girls Grammar School.'</i> Hmm, not bad.<br />
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My thoughts were broken by the distant sound of my father's Toyota van approaching. I quickly buttoned up my shirt, struggled to put my skirt on, then walked out with my hair a bundle of messy joy, and my shoes strapped on a centimeter too tight. My mother took one look at me, then in as if one swift motion, turned my skirt around the right way, rebut-toned my crooked shirt, and crafted my 'joyful' hair into a neat four plait.<br />
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I walked outside and took at least twenty photos with my parents. My dad drove me to school and we were introduced to everybody. Well, not everybody, it was only the year nines and year thirteens at school that day, and already it seemed packed. The photo below is of myself and one of my closest friends Selena. As you can see she is also attending AGGS with me. This is our second day at our new school in the carpark of our old school... if that magically made any sense at all. We're now in week five, and according to my email template, I am still Toreka Tele'a, Room 21 of Pt England School.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjK9d0ooo2cpNq1GP7yB9ap5SMatL3FdSCz5EWWQ48WkY9GztxJr9lkuUI96vymCgjMvSk0vtMuTkYOI9rTchbbzvTw1rhldCVd1WXC3dufz083940BMp8PjodBg03QjroAvuArkM8KI8Y/s1600/Screen+Shot+2013-02-27+at+8.49.46+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjK9d0ooo2cpNq1GP7yB9ap5SMatL3FdSCz5EWWQ48WkY9GztxJr9lkuUI96vymCgjMvSk0vtMuTkYOI9rTchbbzvTw1rhldCVd1WXC3dufz083940BMp8PjodBg03QjroAvuArkM8KI8Y/s320/Screen+Shot+2013-02-27+at+8.49.46+PM.png" width="193" /></a></div>
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I didn't want the end of this to look like the beginning of a book, (which actually makes NO sense) but too bad, I <i>could </i>be an author, thanks to my past teachers at school who I think I have no choice <b>but</b> to thank. So, thank you SO much to : Mrs Nua, Mrs Lagitupu, Mrs Maude, Miss Garden, Ms Squires, Miss Va'afusuaga, Miss King, Mr Proctor, Mr & Mrs Burt.</div>
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Thank you to each and every one of you for playing very important roles in my life at Pt England.</div>
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I'm missing you all.</div>
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Be sure to see you soon Pt England!</div>
Toreka Thttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14988733993708232354noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-211420120756872346.post-4335840005955980172013-02-22T19:47:00.001+13:002013-02-22T19:50:13.632+13:00Swimarama, as an Intermediate studentSlowly, I trudged up the dripping steel staircase, aware that this was my last chance to cruise down the black worm according to the rules. Feet first. One at a time. No blocking up the water. My cousins and I found that last rule a bit hard to deal with, so I guess that's why I'd already been kicked off twice that day. But my younger cousin Jorja and I assured the lifeguards that it wouldn't happen again, so we were able to continue gliding down the hydro-slide.<br />
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Once we reached the top of the treacherous tower, I leaped forward into the slide, shrieking a loud nothing in to the black hole. I laughed my way through all the bruises and pain as I hopped out of the small landing pool. I noticed a huge clan of girls and boys running towards the diving pool. My eyes lit up as I sprinted out pushing through everybody and lining up to have my turn on the Diving Board, although I think we both know I can't dive. <br />
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My turn eventually arrived so I crawled up the ladder and stepped on to the blue plank. Once I was signalled by the lifeguard, I sprinted forward and leaped in to the air flipping backwards three times and perfectly streamlined in! Then I switched back to reality, with my long toes hanging over the diving board, with my stomach the only thing back flipping. I finally gather the courage to jump, so I bounce once, twice, then I propel my self forward, then while falling from the sky, shape myself into a ball, hitting the water with a thud.Toreka Thttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14988733993708232354noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-211420120756872346.post-10025648681279628612012-11-26T14:23:00.001+13:002012-11-26T14:28:59.630+13:00The Supercalafridgealasticespeallidocious Spy Fan<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYuyqXJ3f6DGUDu0nlml80qfrYZe9x-0J0j88XCaZDr5UEpi3q_hjFdnJsrN2RwXufsZgxVyt9daNK_uMfzDLr0LXJ85Gi0eoLULM3wVDMXXcKlGKyFPRWo3ebm8mLjTkemi-8NnxIU2A/s1600/Screen+Shot+2012-11-26+at+12.59.50+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="301" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYuyqXJ3f6DGUDu0nlml80qfrYZe9x-0J0j88XCaZDr5UEpi3q_hjFdnJsrN2RwXufsZgxVyt9daNK_uMfzDLr0LXJ85Gi0eoLULM3wVDMXXcKlGKyFPRWo3ebm8mLjTkemi-8NnxIU2A/s400/Screen+Shot+2012-11-26+at+12.59.50+PM.png" width="400" /></a></div>
As you all will have noticed by now, in our year seven and eight extension crew, we've been having a lot of exciting learning and fun tasks. In our latest session, approximately twenty of our students waltzed in to twenty four different items laid out across the floor. We all sat down in our chairs, while being explained the task of replacing and adding items to the random objects.<br />
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And to my surprise... I was given this fluffy fan. Yes, boring indeed. But fortunately, I used my amazing imagination and came up with : THE SPY FAN.Toreka Thttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14988733993708232354noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-211420120756872346.post-61640122047201799552012-11-19T14:30:00.001+13:002012-11-19T14:30:41.116+13:00Super Soaker<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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In extension we've had a quick activity we're we were to pick a toy and quickly photoshop it in to a picture of you. So here it is, TA DAAAAA!!Toreka Thttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14988733993708232354noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-211420120756872346.post-74157126187388365382012-11-09T10:58:00.000+13:002012-11-09T10:58:01.343+13:00The Famous Mr.Teddy<b id="internal-source-marker_0.7979686639737338"><span style="font-family: 'Happy Monkey'; font-size: 19px; font-weight: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">He was my favourite toy in the world because he was so big and fluffy, and he had what I thought, was the most beautiful blue bow placed on his chubby neck.</span><br /><span style="font-family: 'Happy Monkey'; font-size: 19px; font-weight: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span><br /><span style="font-family: 'Happy Monkey'; font-size: 19px; font-weight: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I named him Mr. Teddy. Simple, of course. Although I was gifted with it at birth, I only gathered enough intelligence at three.</span><br /><span style="font-family: 'Happy Monkey'; font-size: 19px; font-weight: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span><br /><span style="font-family: 'Happy Monkey'; font-size: 19px; font-weight: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">His black beady eyes would always stare into his empty pink plastic tea cup. I used to sit for hours pouring invisible tea into our cups, sharing secrets intently as if he were my best friend.</span><br /><span style="font-family: 'Happy Monkey'; font-size: 19px; font-weight: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span><br /><span style="font-family: 'Happy Monkey'; font-size: 19px; font-weight: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">One of my favourite memories of him was when I went over to my grandparent’s house and we (ALL) fell asleep watching CSI. I suddenly woke up after my Didi instructed me to go and get some tissue. I rose from my slumber and warily grabbed Mr. Teddy and switched on the corridor light. Nothing. My eyes widened in the pitch black and squeezed Mr. Teddy even tighter. I quickly sprinted down to the bathroom, retrieved the tissues and almost tripped because of a loud high pitched squeak. I laughed and picked Mr . Teddy up..</span><br /><span style="font-family: 'Happy Monkey'; font-size: 19px; font-weight: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span><br /><span style="font-family: 'Happy Monkey'; font-size: 19px; font-weight: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Well actually, I guess he was my best friend at the time. Which I don’t find surprising because my dad said I was a very shy child until I turned nine.</span><br /><span style="font-family: 'Happy Monkey'; font-size: 19px; font-weight: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span><br /><span style="font-family: 'Happy Monkey'; font-size: 19px; font-weight: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Mr. Teddy made me feel happy all the time. He was always there smiling at me and making me feel better. </span></b>Toreka Thttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14988733993708232354noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-211420120756872346.post-13918438496817401692012-10-29T12:01:00.001+13:002012-10-29T12:01:58.123+13:00Writing Sample<b id="internal-source-marker_0.8241567991208285" style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: 'Happy Monkey'; font-size: 19px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Bears?! I didn’t know there were BEARS here !!?!?!!” shrieked little Anna, causing a huge rainbow of birds to rise and flap away. “Sssshh!! You scare them,” Toby whispered angrily at Anna while pointing to the birds hurrying away. “But look! BEARS!!!!” she shouted (even louder this time) pointing with her chubby little finger to an information sign about the Grizzly Bear. </span><br /><span style="font-family: 'Happy Monkey'; font-size: 19px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span><br /><span style="font-family: 'Happy Monkey'; font-size: 19px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Three year old Toby and eight year old Anna were being taken out for a visit to Grizzly Woods. Their parents had flown overseas for an important family meeting, while their Uncle Robert was to look after them. Toby was excited by anything and everything and loved to run around, meanwhile Anna absolutely loved being outdoors and the excitement of being surrounded in huge trees. So Robert decided to take them out to Grizzly Woods.</span><br /><span style="font-family: 'Happy Monkey'; font-size: 19px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span><br /><span style="font-family: 'Happy Monkey'; font-size: 19px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Unfortunately, the kids thought it would be a great idea to race ahead of their Uncle at the first sight of an information sign. He eventually caught up, again lecturing them of the importance of staying near. Then told them to hush because they could get kicked out of the park. Anna again repeated the “big news” about BEARS while breaking off a branch and pretending to be slicing an enemy. </span><br /><span style="font-family: 'Happy Monkey'; font-size: 19px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span><br /><span style="font-family: 'Happy Monkey'; font-size: 19px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Little Toby’s face slowly dropped into a sad, shocked face. So Rob quickly put him in his pram and gave Anna her backpack and said “Come on! Let’s go find a table to eat lunch.” After another killer distance of walking, they found an old rugged picnic table. </span><br /><span style="font-family: 'Happy Monkey'; font-size: 19px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span><br /><span style="font-family: 'Happy Monkey'; font-size: 19px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Slowly Anna helped unpack the Jam sammies and fruit, while Uncle Rob tried to wake Toby and unlatch him from the pram. Eventually the table was filled with creamy potato salad, sticky pork ribs, mussel chowder and an endless variety of sandwiches. “DARN IT!” Uncle Rob shouted smacking his sweaty hand against his forehead. “I forgot the plates!” He then looked at the two kids noticing they had already started eating and forgot all about it in a confusion of ribs, potatoes, and Just Juice.</span><br /><span style="font-family: 'Happy Monkey'; font-size: 19px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span><br /><span style="font-family: 'Happy Monkey'; font-size: 19px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“CRUNCH.” Toby lifted his head out of the mussel chowder and screamed. There, standing on top of a squashed pram, was a pile of big brown fur, razor sharp teeth, and an evil look of hunger stuck in big black eyes. “GRIZZLY BEAR!!!!!” Anna screamed while sprinting away. Rob quickly jumped out of his seat and grabbed Toby and tried to escape the deadly beast. “Annnaaaa!!!! WAAAIT!!!” the two boys shrieked. Rob tripped over a broken branch while dropping Toby. “Run Toby!!! RUN!!!” Little Toby, confused with all the commotion, stood up and tried to help Rob up. </span><br /><span style="font-family: 'Happy Monkey'; font-size: 19px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span><br /><span style="font-family: 'Happy Monkey'; font-size: 19px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Slop.” A big fat blob of saliva dropped onto Rob’s head. He reluctantly turned over to a wide pair of jaws, ready to attack. Toby screamed and Rob just closed his eyes, knowing it was time. The animal slowly picked his prey up with one paw and raised the other with his claws extended. </span><br /><span style="font-family: 'Happy Monkey'; font-size: 19px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span><br /><span style="font-family: 'Happy Monkey'; font-size: 19px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“HEY YOU BIG FAT GRIZZLY BEAR!” a little voice screamed. The grizzly turned around while dropping Rob to the ground. “No! Don’t Anna!” Uncle Rob yelled. “You want some of this?!” she continued holding up a big bowl of potato salad. The grizzly bear started to waltz toward the 8 year old. “NOOOOO!!!!!” Toby and Rob shrieked. She placed the bowl on the ground and ran away. He picked up the bowl and demolished it as a whole. The 3 family members quickly ran off home.</span></b>Toreka Thttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14988733993708232354noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-211420120756872346.post-7471074744138909132012-09-25T09:06:00.001+12:002012-09-25T09:06:50.736+12:00Term 3 Reflection<b id="internal-source-marker_0.7550320792943239"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-weight: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Term 3 at Point England School for 2012 has been fun. Fun, because as a Prefect I got to take part in cool things, as well as organise them. For example : The Year 1-6 Disco, the intermediate social, the Olympics Day, Loud Shirt Day, and the Year 4 - 6 disco. With school work, maths has been a bit challenging, but interesting at the same time. I’ve learnt (or remembered in lots of cases) an immense amount of strategies, and have made a lot more sense of the equations. Reading has been a lot easier with the StudyLadder activities, as well as the actual Reading Journals we receive. Writing has been really really fun. Especially my group’s latest tasks : “What If.” Where we write about the scenarios where we might be superheroes, or a billionaire, or being completely poor. I actually can’t believe how fast this term has gone past. But it has been a cool one.</span></b>Toreka Thttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14988733993708232354noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-211420120756872346.post-58427936133317103682012-09-19T12:17:00.000+12:002012-09-19T12:17:06.030+12:00Rugby Girls <b id="internal-source-marker_0.4976373778190464"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-weight: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“THUD!” You could literally hear the sound of Koru School’s heads hit the ground. “Ooooo!” my class shouted. It was a sunny Friday afternoon when the Pt England Intermediate rugby girls were playing against Koru School. And thanks to one of the Year 7 girls JayLee, Koru’s number 5 was limping off the field, clutching on to her rugby shorts. </span><br /><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-weight: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span><br /><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-weight: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Speedily ran JayLee back to her team to get ready for the team’s next run. “CRUNCH.” Tina had tackled Number 10. My class went silent for two seconds then started screaming, “YEAH!! WOOHOO!! SHOT TINA!! GO POINT ENGLAND!!!”</span><br /><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-weight: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span><br /><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-weight: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Unfortunately, our class had got their towards the end of the game and we had apparently missed out on a lot of things. Including their 2 tries. “HOOOOOOT.” the hooter thingy blasted loudly into the sideline’s ears. We all looked annoyingly at Mr Jacobsen, shooting him dirty looks as he quietly put the hooter back.</span><br /><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-weight: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span><br /><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-weight: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">We all stopped. The hooter meant it was full time. But it was a tie. So the ref blew the whistle and the overtime started. It was our ball. Oshania tapped the ball and ran through Koru with a look of determination slapped across her face. She quickly offloaded the ball to Stephanie who then ran at an accelerating speed but was then tackled, and dragged by the shirt off the field by Koru.</span><br /><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-weight: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span><br /><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-weight: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">And as soon as Koru grabbed the ball, they were off. To the finals that is. Number 6 grabbed hold of the ball and sprinted down the sideline, then turned to a halt as she dumped the ball on the ground. Her team all ran towards her in a bundle of hugs, cheering and hi-fives.</span><br /><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-weight: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span><br /><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-weight: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">We had lost by a try.</span></b>Toreka Thttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14988733993708232354noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-211420120756872346.post-82896251834866917952012-09-14T16:22:00.000+12:002012-09-14T16:22:43.922+12:00Farewell Mrs Verry<iframe allowfullscreen="allowfullscreen" frameborder="0" height="281" mozallowfullscreen="mozallowfullscreen" src="http://player.vimeo.com/video/49427322" webkitallowfullscreen="webkitallowfullscreen" width="500"></iframe> <br />
<a href="http://vimeo.com/49427322">Farewell to our dear Mrs Verry</a> from <a href="http://vimeo.com/team4pes">Team 4 Pes</a> on <a href="http://vimeo.com/">Vimeo</a>.<br />
Mrs Verry. She is one of the greatest teacher/child supporter / school volunteer here at Pt England School. She is very close to most if not all of the students. Unfortunatley, she is now retiring. So as a symbol of respect, a few of the many Samoan girls at school gathered together and were taught a siva Samoa by Mrs Tuala.Toreka Thttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14988733993708232354noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-211420120756872346.post-14822462888091851962012-09-11T10:27:00.000+12:002012-09-11T10:27:01.394+12:00Being a Super Hero<b id="internal-source-marker_0.510155349271372"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-weight: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Blazika. That’s what they call me. I have the ability to shoot fire, and if necessary a spear would shoot out of my sleeve, grasping the criminal’s flesh and yanking the poor victim towards me. I’m the 12 year old hero.</span><br /><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-weight: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span><br /><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-weight: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">And when I’m called to the job. My school uniform dissolves into a yellow and black leather bodysuit. I rise up into the air, while my steel spear is waiting in my right sleeve. My hair would evolve to fire and my eyes would change to a burning orange. </span><br /><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-weight: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span><br /><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-weight: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">But my disguise has to be held secret, because of my teacher Sandy Lagitupu, also known as Sand Woman. She revealed her power to her us when our class took a trip to the beach. One of the students screamed for help as he drowned in quicksand so she acted fast and lifted the sand from 20 feet away and the boy was saved. From then on, our class has been silent around her. She is the head of SuperHeroes incorporated. But I refuse to work with their company, as they’ve made too many mistakes murdering innocent citizens.</span><br /><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-weight: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span><br /><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-weight: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">But she’s not my biggest burden. Black Ice is my arch enemy, but she goes as Blaze. I don’t know why, since heat is my power. Also known as Selena Smith. And as a fire hero, I absolutely despised her being in the form of ice. She would constantly freeze bankers of ASB, stealing millions of dollars, and just recently decided she would put out the Olympic Torch.</span><br /><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-weight: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span><br /><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-weight: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Now </span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">that </span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-weight: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">was a mission. “Blazika. Blazika. We have a problem” my right leather shoulder would buzz. “What is it Coalin?” I replied in my bravest voice. “Black Ice” he replied slowly. My hair turned to fire, and my eyes lit orange. “What now?!” I replied irritated. “She’s planning on taking out the Olympic Torch. I’ve already informed the Queen’s British agency.” I stopped in awe of her evil plans. I knew she was bad. But I didn’t think she’d have the black heart to put the </span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">OLYMPIC TORCH</span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-weight: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> out!!</span></b><br />
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<b><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-weight: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I promise to continue further stories about Blazika , Black Ice, and Sand Woman.</span></b><br />
<b><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-weight: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">For Black Ice's perspective of being a super hero click here.</span></b>Toreka Thttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14988733993708232354noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-211420120756872346.post-75596221834350155902012-09-10T10:01:00.000+12:002012-09-11T10:27:16.148+12:00Being a Billionaire<b id="internal-source-marker_0.09715362288989127"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-weight: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">If I were to be a Billionaire, I actually don’t think I’d be at school right now. Well, I wouldn’t have to be because I’d be home schooled by my employed teacher Ben Carson, in my 2 story ensuite bedroom. Which would include, a 50 inch Plasma screen TV, 2 king size beds, a never ending Zombie chew dispenser, a 5 inch statue of SpongeBob made of diamonds, a huge yellow trampoline, 2 elevators, and a diving board which would allow me to cannonball into my 30 acre pool.</span><br /><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-weight: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span><br /><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-weight: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">And </span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">that’s </span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-weight: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">just my </span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">bedroom</span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-weight: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">. My house would be 5 stories high. I’d have 5 guest rooms,and 10 rooms for my when my family are visiting, 3 toilets, 3 bathrooms, an Ice Cream Parlour, a filming studio, and blue & green rooms (for filming purposes). I’ll have bought a nice little house for my parents and brothers down the road. I’ll have a chauffeur, a personal chef and I’d own five of the Burger Kings around Auckland.</span><br /><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-weight: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span><br /><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-weight: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">And during the summer, I’d ride down to Wendaholme beach. I’d have bought that as well, but I’d be kind to people and let them enter with only a $20 dollars fee. (Adults 50) After a vacation in one of Waiwera’s holiday homes, I’d fly to an Art School in France, buy that and a couple of 30 million dollar paintings and become a great legend and create a masterpiece as great as the Mona Lisa, or maybe even Sunflowers by Van Gogh.</span><br /><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-weight: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span><br /><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-weight: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Transport. I’d own a private jet, a yellow Mercedes Benz, and 5 yellow buses.</span><br /><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-weight: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">But that’s </span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">if </span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-weight: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I was a Billionaire.</span></b>Toreka Thttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14988733993708232354noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-211420120756872346.post-81423129724012739372012-08-20T14:47:00.001+12:002012-08-27T14:01:19.207+12:00Animators Apprentice<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<b id="internal-source-marker_0.638948384206742" style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 16px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">As most of you might already know our school enters the I AM MAKING MOVIES competition the Auckland Museum runs. This year they have arranged three animators from the studios of ‘BroTown’ to visit all the participating schools, and teach them the art of</span><span style="font-family: Righteous; font-size: 16px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> </span><span style="font-family: 'The Girl Next Door'; font-size: 16px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">‘Animation'</span><span style="font-family: 'Berkshire Swash'; font-size: 16px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">.</span><span style="font-family: 'Crafty Girls'; font-size: 16px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> </span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 16px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The three kind artists that taught us were ‘Maka, Nils and Ali.’ Ali was the one who started off the 3 hour session. We were first taught a brief lesson on the </span><span style="font-family: 'Berkshire Swash'; font-size: 16px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">history</span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 16px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> of </span><span style="font-family: 'The Girl Next Door'; font-size: 16px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">animation</span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 16px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">. We played a little game of ‘Guess Who’ where you had to guess the silhouette of the character or cartoon. We also learnt about Bertie The Dinosaur, the very first moving animation. And also about Walt Disney, and when the Warner Brothers tied in to the timeline of </span><span style="font-family: 'The Girl Next Door'; font-size: 16px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">animating</span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 16px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">. </span></b>Toreka Thttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14988733993708232354noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-211420120756872346.post-78993331590036006342012-08-08T10:19:00.000+12:002012-08-08T10:19:17.967+12:00Olympic Message<b id="internal-source-marker_0.8362464271485806"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 19px; font-weight: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“The most important thing about the Olympic Games is not to win, but to take part... just as the most important thing in life is not the triumph, but the struggle”. Those are the words of wisdom of Baron Pierre de Coubertin. He is the reason why the Modern Olympics are still running right now, and he is also the designer of the Olympic Flag. I think this message is very inspiring and motivational towards others.</span><br /><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 19px; font-weight: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span><br /><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 19px; font-weight: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Personally, I think this is a very good message, and very encouraging to many athletes. The message conveys that you must learn from your mistakes, and keep on moving. Your struggle leads to your success. Pierre de Coubertin’s words have helped many athletes. Even our very own Nicholas Willis conveys the Olympic message during an interview.</span></b><br />
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Eric Murray and Hamish Bond have JUST won gold for New Zealand in Men's Rowing Pairs. My family is SOOOOOOO happy, and I'm sure the rest of Aotearoa is too! WOOHOO!! Another gold medal for the kiwis!! For a second there it looked like they weren't even trying! And yet they were a good 20 metres in front of the next boat. Although France managed to hold them at second for the 1st 500 metres, New Zealand smashed back and it was all over. With France in second and Great Britain in third. This gives us 2 Golds, and 1 Bronze. All I really do care about though, is we won. And I've never been more proud to be a kiwi.Toreka Thttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14988733993708232354noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-211420120756872346.post-9706755578213402872012-08-03T21:19:00.000+12:002012-08-03T21:32:29.484+12:00Olympic Update : Men's Archery - Individual EliminationThe arena is silent. There is tension in the air, followed by the sound of an arrow whizzing towards the target...THUD! The arrow hits the bullseye gaining the archer the maximum ten points. The crowd goes wild, applauding in appreciation of the great skill on display. This is Men's Archery. These are the individual elimination rounds, the knock out phase. It's great for spectators to watch, but can you imagine the pressure on the archers? The fate of their country's hope in their hands. Well the bow in this case. I've just witnessed 2 matches, both of them SO SO close. The smallest movement while aiming, could cost you a medal. The concentration in this sport is sooooo important. The emotions on the face of the archer, you can almost see how much they want to win. Right now I'm watching a match between Ukraine's Ruban and France's Prevost. The score is 26 - 25 to Ukraine. We're now on to a different match between China's Dai X and Australia's Taylor Worth. At the moment Taylor Worth is leading at a score of 19 to 18.Toreka Thttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14988733993708232354noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-211420120756872346.post-84426320965849223212012-08-01T09:30:00.000+12:002012-08-03T20:50:37.171+12:00Thank you Duffy Books in Homes!!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Earlier on this morning I received a package with my name and school address. The package was small, square, and soft. I carefully ripped it open, trying so hard not to wreck it. As I slipped my hand in and felt the soft bubble wrap, I smiled and pulled the object out and found a book. I turned the package to have another look and saw it was from Duffy Books in Homes.<br />
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This wasn't just any book. This was BEN CARSON'S GIFTED HANDS! I was so overwhelmed!! I saw a small letter, read as fast as I could and grabbed the bubble-wrapped book and and saw that Ben Carson himself had signed: 'Best Wishes, Ben Carson'. I shrieked with excitement. The reason I had received this book, was because earlier on this year I entered a writing competition about reading, and why and how it would help me in the future with want I want to do. It turns out I was one of the five winners of the competition!!! And now I have the honour of reading his journey to greatness. Thank you SO SO SO MUCH DUFFY BOOKS IN HOMES!!!!!!!!Toreka Thttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14988733993708232354noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-211420120756872346.post-15625488058619467322012-07-30T19:54:00.000+12:002012-07-30T19:54:09.241+12:00The Opening Ceremony<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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The Olympic Opening Ceremony was just absolutely AMAZING and I was so proud to scream "GO NEW ZEALAND!!!! THAT'S MY TEAM!!" as soon as Nick Willis waltzed in waving the flag big and proud. Our New Zealand Olympic Team looked so professional if I do say so myself, as they walked in to the stadium. With around 205 countries parading around the stadium, it was PACKED! But the stadium was just SO HUGE, they were bound to fit. It turns out that only 60 of the 85 athletes from NZ walked around representing us. This just made me want to become a professional athlete for any sport at all! Just to be part of that NZ Athlete Team, would be simply..AMAZING!!!! Even to watch! I don't really care which one comes first!<div>
GO NEW ZEALAAAAAAAAND!!!! Woohoo!</div>Toreka Thttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14988733993708232354noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-211420120756872346.post-13277801467047500072012-07-30T19:47:00.000+12:002012-07-30T19:47:01.985+12:00The Olympics (so far..)Well, the Olympics for 2012 is well under way and has so far run smoothly. I'm lying on my couch right now watching the replays and highlights, and have noticed how concentrated everyone is, in every sport. Archery is a sport where you can see the concentration very easily. <br />
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As well as the 85kg women's weightlifting, those are some STRONG concentrated ladies. In this photo is <span style="background-color: white; color: #1c1c1c; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 16px;">Mingjuan Wang winning weightlifting gold for China in the 48kg section with a overall score of 205kgs !! She has apparently been the World Champion in this weight category for FOUR YEARS!!</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfb4i1PSgJKocZZVANtYcB_6oRKHGyCF6x5aZyt956CmTUGS4CGNVN8urq8vC1gOQIPEsDmDVxh3wfz8SEf6W3qETaunqoyWQRsXMcEVvbd1oA8sAav6xMrEaFQMxVZA41wmQEySwAHKc/s1600/l6122483.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="228" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfb4i1PSgJKocZZVANtYcB_6oRKHGyCF6x5aZyt956CmTUGS4CGNVN8urq8vC1gOQIPEsDmDVxh3wfz8SEf6W3qETaunqoyWQRsXMcEVvbd1oA8sAav6xMrEaFQMxVZA41wmQEySwAHKc/s320/l6122483.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #1c1c1c; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 16px;">Then there's that game handball, which is WAY more than just bouncing a small ball over a line. What's funny is that although it isn't a contact sport, there is a lot of physical movement in this sport. The game I watched was between Croatia and Brazil. And I was obviously going for Croatia. To my disappointment and Brazil's joy, we lost by ONE point!!!!! 23 - 24 was the result.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #1c1c1c; font-family: arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 15px; line-height: 16px;">I plans to post/update my blog with the Olympic series. GO NEW ZEALAND!!</span></span>Toreka Thttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14988733993708232354noreply@blogger.com1