VCE · Creative Response
Creative Response: Writing about protest The primary form…
VCE Creative Response essay scoring 60%: \'At what cost?' There has always been one concept we've been taught to associate with change.…
\'At what cost?'
There has always been one concept we've been taught to associate with change. I'm
sure you'd agree that protest and change have forever been synonymous. If you're a
brave, young visionary and you see intolerance in the world that you just want to get
rid of, you gather up your huge crowd of people, storm the city square, blocking
traffic and holding your giant signs and banners high, demanding to be heard. We
know this narrative so well, surely, we all just need to keep doing this and our society
will continue to progress forward! You all see injustice in this world, don't you? Then
go! Rally up your seas of people and fill the streets! This world will be unjust no
longer!
Not so easy, is it?
Ironically, the belief that mass protest is a driving force for change prevents many of
us to participate. Organising and rallying numbers to storm the streets is a difficult
achievement. Not only is this daunting but, if you if you believe the conflict the media
thrives upon, no one wants to be pepper sprayed by the police or be confronted by a
violent mob hell bent on opposing your convictions.
Yet, do the costs of mass protest outweigh the benefits. Are sacrifices, conviction
and civil unrest to collective raise defiant voices in public necessary? What if the
seas of people and signs in the streets are just one way out of many to enact
change?
All it takes is a look through the history books, and it becomes clear. Mass protests
have definitely confronted system injustices, but we also owe so much of our
society's progress to the individuals. The individuals who have faced an injustice in
their lives and singlehandedly decided to draw the line and refuse to allow it to go on.
The individuals who didn't bother assembling a massive following but instead took it
upon themselves to see intolerance removed. The individuals who risked it all, who
may have even lost it all, but even so, sowed everlasting seeds of change which
have bloomed into today's enlightened society. Indeed, all it takes is to the delve into
the past to discover just how far into the future an individual's act of defiance can
echo.
You and I both know, for example, that the Earth, and all the planets, revolve around
the Sun, right? Well, let's take a trip back to 1600s Italy, and we'll see that it was a bit
of a different story. The dogmatic, theocratic rule of the Catholic Church reigned
VCE · Creative Response
Creative Response: Writing about protest The form is an…
VCE Creative Response essay scoring 60%: I’m sure this isn’t a foreign situation for any of you. I’m standing at the classroom door, greeting every…
I’m sure this isn’t a foreign situation for any of you. I’m standing at the classroom door, greeting every student with a wide smile, checking every student up and down, making sure they're wearing the correct uniform. From socks to jumpers, from pants to dresses, from shirts to hair styles. Girls can’t wear pants. Boys can’t wear dresses. Girls can’t wear jewellery or have painted nails. Boys must wear a clean white shirt. No exceptions. No questions asked. It’s our school policy.
There’s always girls who walk in wearing pants. We have to send them home to change. We’ll get into trouble if we don’t. Yet we’re standing at the door in those same moments wearing my pair of blue baggy jeans.
The glass wall strengthens.
I’m sure this isn’t a foreign situation for any of you. I’m in a staff meeting. They’re projecting a screenshot on the board. A screenshot of a petition the students had made to change the uniform policy. The girls want to wear pants, the boys find their ties uncomfortable. A thousand signatures. “All students involved will be held back after school for community service this afternoon”. No mention of the efforts students made to be heard. No mention of what these young people were fighting for. I mean, what would that make us teachers if every rule became negotiable? So we punish them.
The glass wall strengthens.
The narrative of gender inequality has been constantly shoved under the bed like an old cardigan. I admit. I do it too. I. As a woman. As someone who has the pleasure of working with and around the next generation of curious souls every day. I have participated in the routine uniform checks. I have given detentions to students for what we call “unnecessary disruption”. When a group of students snatch the microphone at assembly with a prepared speech on why the uniform policy needs to be changed. We don’t let them finish. We send them straight to the principal's office. Anything that impacts the integrity of our school, deserves punishment. We frame their protest as disobedience to prevent having to take accountability. All this time it’s been happening right in front of my eyes. Right under my nose.
Protest has always been a word held with ample stigma. Any mention of protest gets quickly pushed away. Deflected. It conjures images of mass marches, and people holding their flags in the sky with closed fists aimed at their oppressors. It’s these protests that taint how we perceive them through everyday circumstances. Us teachers don’t view protest simply as its definition; A statement or action expressing disapproval of or objection to something. We think that protest is just mass marches down the streets. We think it’s people holding their flags up to the sky and causing public disturbance. This stigma forms the foundation of our belief system as professionals working with young people. Protest is disobedience, and public disturbance disrupts the order of the institution we aim to uphold.
Yes there’s signed petitions, assembly interruptions, and social media accounts, all aimed at us, those who enforce the uniform policy so relentlessly every day. But what about the small acts of objection? The female students we see every morning at our door wearing the same pants and shirt we sent them home for yesterday. They do this every morning, relentlessly, as if trying to get some sort of point across. No matter how many punishments, how many times we send them home, they keep doing it. And we keep pretending it’s not what it is. ‘Detention at lunch’. ‘Community service after school’. But these students will keep going. It's a protest. It’s an attempt to make change and be heard. As teachers we would never dream of listening to them. It’s one of the core values thrust upon us when learning to be a teacher; Neutrality allows the school to function as it has for hundreds of years. It’s not ignorance, it’s procedure.
These students are trapped behind glass. ‘To be seen and not heard’.
VCE · Creative Response
Creative Response: State of Play: thoughts and…
VCE Creative Response essay scoring 75%: Speech DRAFT If there was a recipe for what most people think growing up successful looks like, I think it…
Speech DRAFT
If there was a recipe for what most people think growing up successful looks like, I think it would sound something like this:
Step 1. Measure out 2½ cups of hard work and perseverance.
Step 2. Simmer gently over six years of high school, seasoned lightly with academic pressure and personal sacrifice.
Step 3. Pour the mixture neatly into the ‘right’ university degree, making sure that you don’t spill any of your hard work while doing this.
Step 4. Stir continuously until a stable career forms and you finally feel satisfied with yourself.
As society expects young people to follow this ‘so-called’ recipe to gain success, it’s not a surprise to anyone when most people accept it and build their lives around it. But the problem is, this recipe leaves no room for curiosity, imagination or joy. Society is quietly pushing play out of our lives and that loss costs us more than we realise.
The tragedy of aging is the loss of youth, the abandonment of our spontaneity…
As we grow up, our worth begins to get tied to our achievements, and our productivity gets praised.
Growing up in an Asian household, I remember my parents used to sign me up to multiple extracurricular activities. In primary school, I was a part time artist, a part time pianist, a part time swimmer, dancer, singer. You name it, I probably tried it. Back in the day, play was like exploration for me because it let me adventure into different territories to see which ones I liked and didn’t like. Of course I wasn’t the best at any of these, but I at least enjoyed some of them enough for them to become hobbies that I personally wanted to continue.
When high school began, I became a full-time student. This was when I found myself being forcefully dragged away from the activities that I used to participate in.
But why?
I asked my parents this same question, again and again.
“If you not number one, how you stand out?” they would reply.
“How playing piano and this flimsy paint brush going to get you to university? How you earn money in future?”
VCE · Creative Response
Creative Response: State of Play: thoughts and…
VCE Creative Response essay scoring 72.5%: Speech DRAFT If there was a recipe for what most people think growing up successful looks like, I think it…
Speech DRAFT
If there was a recipe for what most people think growing up successful looks like, I think it would sound something like this:
Step 1. Measure out 2½ cups of hard work and perseverance.
Step 2. Simmer gently over six years of high school, seasoned lightly with academic pressure and personal sacrifice.
Step 3. Pour the mixture neatly into the ‘right’ university degree, making sure that you don’t spill any of your hard work while doing this.
Step 4. Stir continuously until a stable career forms and you finally feel satisfied with yourself.
As society expects young people to follow this ‘so-called’ recipe to gain success, it’s not a surprise to anyone when most people accept it and build their lives around it. But the problem is, this recipe leaves no room for curiosity, imagination or joy. Society is quietly pushing play out of our lives and that loss costs us more than we realise.
The tragedy of aging is the loss of youth, the abandonment of our spontaneity…
As we grow up, our worth begins to get tied to our achievements, and our productivity gets praised.
Growing up in an Asian household, I remember my parents used to sign me up to multiple extracurricular activities. In primary school, I was a part time artist, a part time pianist, a part time swimmer, dancer, singer. You name it, I probably tried it. Back in the day, play was like exploration for me because it let me adventure into different territories to see which ones I liked and didn’t like. Of course I wasn’t the best at any of these, but I at least enjoyed some of them enough for them to become hobbies that I personally wanted to continue.
When high school began, I became a full-time student. This was when I found myself being forcefully dragged away from the activities that I use to participate in.
But why?
I asked my parents this same question, again and again.
“If you not number one, how you stand out?” they would reply.
“How playing piano and this flimsy paint brush going to get you to university? How you earn money in future?”
VCE · Creative Response
Creative Response: Rule maker or rule breaker?
VCE Creative Response essay scoring 60%: The White Line The line in the middle of the road used to lie there with its delicate height distinction over…
The White Line
The line in the middle of the road used to lie there with its delicate height distinction over the rest of the asphalt. It divided the drivers on the left from the drivers on the right. It’s almost certain that even without the line, the drivers would still follow this rule. I saw these cars perfectly aligned behind one another, each life passes by, adhering to the line’s subtle presence, yet significant impact in providing leeway.
I remember when I was a kid, we’d imagine we were walking the line while safely observing the road from our driveway. He would walk the right side, whereas I’d take the left side. We’d take turns attempting to balance on our line like it was a wire hanging high in the sky; where he’d have to go left and I go right. My brother and I would perceive victory as being stable on this line and adhering to the rules just like a car would. If he or I failed, we’d think the end of the world was upon us; we’d cry, wondering if our unsteadiness foreshadowed a world where we can’t listen and obey. Abiding was this serious in every situation, even beyond the asphalt. When we played king of the castle, neither of us were allowed to break the sacred rule derived from those my brother had created with his friends. When we played monopoly, every fine would be taken with extreme maturity and accountability; We would own up, admit, just like the line.
In school, the line’s omnipresence became more evident.
Corridors were separated.
Desks were assigned without question.
Unspoken expectations like paying full attention and being cooperative became clear when the teacher would raise their tired voices, testing their vocal cords after a horrendous night’s sleep. These invisible structures revealed themselves not through moral lessons, but through the unspoken, sharp consequences of breaking them.
Back at home, these habits and routines were seen essential to the family. Moving plates to another cabinet was replied to with my Mum’s sharp breath intakes and Dad’s tightened jaw. Conversations within the family were always calculated to ensure no one’s feelings were hurt. No half measures were ever taken; only full measures to ensure order and understanding, even if the changes in space and alignment were marginal.
VCE · Creative Response
Creative Response: Photo of a statue being pulled down
VCE Creative Response essay scoring 60%: The Noise we Made At first, it was only a couple young voices in the square fighting against the morning fog.…
The Noise we Made
At first, it was only a couple young voices in the square fighting against the morning fog. Shoes scuffling against stone that hadn't been moved in centuries. A statue loomed over us, a man cast in bronze with his arm permanently extended as if mid speech. Someone passed out placards and signs, the cardboard still smelling of glue and impatience, the words were sharp and absolute written in thick black marker, ”Change will be had”. I brandished the sign proudly, although I didn't know what it meant, or who it was for.
By midmorning, the square filled slowly. More people arrived drawn by social media and word of mouth. The noise increased, as did people’s hunger to be heard. Drums and megaphones flooded the once peaceful streets, like a king tide. Chants began to build, bouncing off the nearby buildings, progressively getting louder, as if the city was joining in. I felt a part of something larger than myself. It was intoxicating. I could feel the rhythm of the crowd in my chest, a collective heartbeat driven by change.
Around me, faces glowed with determination, the goal to stop fossil fuels. They contended change was not only necessary but urgent. Anything slower was an obstacle. Anyone who questioned it was a part of the problem. Reluctantly, I nodded along, unable to question. Holding my sign above my head, allowing myself to be carried by the current of voices. Still I had questions, which would be left unanswered. Still I hesitated.
The protest had started with a promise, to save our town, our country, our world. The protesters confirmed the current laws are outdated, a relic of older times. Maybe that was true, but my father and his father had built their lives around it. So had my neighbours, the small shop on the corner and the delivery driver who comes at dawn. All of us relied on something that was now deemed wrong.
VCE · Creative Response
Creative Response: "The Truth"
VCE Creative Response essay scoring 95%: The Truth The salt air here has a way of stripping things back to their bones. In the capital, the air was…
The Truth
The salt air here has a way of stripping things back to their bones. In the capital, the air was thick with the scent of polished marble and heavy drapes—materials designed to muffle the world. Here, on this barren coastline, there is nowhere for the sound to hide. I am left with nothing but the rhythm of the tide and the itch of what they have taken from me.
They call it a liberation. I call it an eviction from reality.
For twenty years, I was the steward of a necessary silence. My citizens lived in a world where the ledgers always balanced, where the grain silos were always full, and where the future was a straight, paved road. It was a masterpiece of administration. Yes, the numbers were an invention. Yes, the prosperity was a ghost. But it was a comfortable ghost. I understood that the collective peace of a nation depends entirely on what the people do not know.
I was bold enough to build a world out of nothing. I dared to believe that I could sustain a civilization on the strength of my own conviction, shielding them from the jagged edges of a failing economy and the rot of a dying state. I thought my boldness was the foundation.
I was wrong. I had forgotten that silence is not the absence of sound; it is merely a held breath.
It began with a single tremor. A minor official, a man whose name I have already scrubbed from my memory, found a single, misaligned number in the ledger. He didn't shout; he whispered. But in a room built for silence, a whisper sounds like a gunshot. I expected the machinery of the State to swallow him, to render his "truth" as nothing more than the rambling of a madman. I thought a solitary voice could never echo in halls I had so carefully muffled.
VCE · Creative Response
Creative Response: "The Truth"
VCE Creative Response essay scoring 85%: The Truth The salt air here has a way of stripping things back to their bones. In the capital, the air was…
The Truth
The salt air here has a way of stripping things back to their bones. In the capital, the air was thick with the scent of polished marble and heavy drapes—materials designed to muffle the world. Here, on this barren coastline, there is nowhere for the sound to hide. I am left with nothing but the rhythm of the tide and the persistent, nagging itch of what they have taken from me.
They call it a liberation. I call it an eviction from reality.
For twenty years, I was the steward of a necessary silence. My citizens lived in a world where the ledgers always balanced, where the grain silos were always full, and where the future was a straight, paved road. It was a masterpiece of administration. Yes, the numbers were an invention. Yes, the prosperity was a ghost. But it was a comfortable ghost. I understood that the collective peace of a nation depends entirely on what the people do not know.
I was bold enough to build a world out of nothing. I dared to believe that I could sustain a civilization on the strength of my own conviction, shielding them from the jagged edges of a failing economy and the rot of a dying state. I thought my boldness was the foundation.
I was wrong. I had forgotten that silence is not the absence of sound; it is merely a held breath.
It began with a single tremor. A minor official, a man whose name I have already scrubbed from my memory, found a single, misaligned number in the ledger. He didn't shout; he whispered. But in a room built for silence, a whisper sounds like a gunshot. I expected the machinery of the State to swallow him, to render his "truth" as nothing more than the rambling of a madman. I thought a solitary voice could never echo in halls I had so carefully muffled.
VCE · Creative Response
Creative Response: "The Truth"
VCE Creative Response essay scoring 87.5%: The Truth The salt air here has a way of stripping things back to their bones. In the capital, the air was…
The Truth
The salt air here has a way of stripping things back to their bones. In the capital, the air was thick with the scent of polished marble and heavy drapes—materials designed to muffle the world. Here, on this barren coastline, there is nowhere for the sound to hide. I am left with nothing but the rhythm of the tide and the persistent, nagging itch of what they have taken from me.
They call it a liberation. I call it an eviction from reality.
For twenty years, I was the steward of a necessary silence. My citizens lived in a world where the ledgers always balanced, where the grain silos were always full, and where the future was a straight, paved road. It was a masterpiece of administration. Yes, the numbers were an invention. Yes, the prosperity was a ghost. But it was a comfortable ghost. I understood that the collective peace of a nation depends entirely on what the people do not know.
I was bold enough to build a world out of nothing. I dared to believe that I could sustain a civilization on the strength of my own conviction, shielding them from the jagged edges of a failing economy and the rot of a dying state. I thought my boldness was the foundation.
I was wrong. I had forgotten that silence is not the absence of sound; it is merely a held breath.
It began with a single tremor. A minor official, a man whose name I have already scrubbed from my memory, found a single, misaligned number in the ledger. He didn't shout; he whispered. But in a room built for silence, a whisper sounds like a gunshot. I expected the machinery of the State to swallow him, to render his "truth" as nothing more than the rambling of a madman. I thought a solitary voice could never echo in halls I had so carefully muffled.
But then, the whisper found an echo.
VCE · Creative Response
Creative Response: The original prompt and title was "The…
VCE Creative Response essay scoring 82.5%: The Truth The salt air here has a way of stripping things back to their bones. In the capital, the air was…
The Truth
The salt air here has a way of stripping things back to their bones. In the capital, the air was thick with the scent of polished marble and heavy drapes—materials designed to muffle the world. Here, on this barren coastline, there is nowhere for the sound to hide. I am left with nothing but the rhythm of the tide and the persistent, nagging itch of what they have taken from me.
They call it a liberation. I call it an eviction from reality.
For twenty years, I was the steward of a necessary silence. My citizens lived in a world where the ledgers always balanced, where the grain silos were always full, and where the future was a straight, paved road. It was a masterpiece of administration. Yes, the numbers were an invention. Yes, the prosperity was a ghost. But it was a comfortable ghost. I understood that the collective peace of a nation depends entirely on what the people do not know.
I was bold enough to build a world out of nothing. I dared to believe that I could sustain a civilization on the strength of my own conviction, shielding them from the jagged edges of a failing economy and the rot of a dying state. I thought my boldness was the foundation.
I was wrong. I had forgotten that silence is not the absence of sound; it is merely a held breath.
It began with a single tremor. A minor official, a man whose name I have already scrubbed from my memory, found a crack in the facade. He didn't shout; he whispered. But in a room built for silence, a whisper sounds like a gunshot. I expected the machinery of the State to swallow him, to render his "truth" as nothing more than the rambling of a madman. I thought a solitary voice could never pierce the velvet curtains I had drawn shut.
But then, the whisper found an echo.
VCE · Creative Response
Creative Response: Personal Journies
VCE Creative Response essay scoring 62.5%: As I lift the kettle off the stove, steam curls into the air and the smell of cinnamon tea rises to meet me.…
As I lift the kettle off the stove, steam curls into the air and the smell of cinnamon tea rises to meet me. For a moment, I am no longer standing in my kitchen. I am back in Sri Lanka, sitting beneath a slow spinning fan with a chipped mug warming my hands.
I did not expect ten days to change me.
At Melbourne Airport, my mum hugged me twice before I walked through security. I remember feeling steady, almost proud. Service work sounded meaningful — something I could handle. But when I arrived at Diyagala Boys’s Town, the idea of it dissolved into heat and unfamiliar routine. The dorm rooms were bare. The showers ran cold. At night I laid awake listening to insects and distant traffic, missing the quiet certainty of my own bedroom.
We woke before sunrise each morning. We painted classrooms, carried bricks, and ran activities for the local boys. Sweat soaked through my shirt before breakfast. I smiled when they laughed, but in quiet moments I counted how long it would be until I could call home. I missed my parents in a way that embarrassed me. I had chosen to come.
Then the rain came.
What began as distant thunder grew into sheets of water slamming against tin roofs. They told us it was a cyclone – infamously named Ditwah. By afternoon the power cut out. The fans stopped mid spin. The lights died. My phone battery dropped to nothing. When the signal disappeared, I stared at the blank screen as if it might change its mind.
I could not call home.
The storm raged through the night. Rain hammered the roof so loudly we had to raise our voices to be heard. Some of the younger boys joked about it. Others watched the windows with wide eyes. I felt small and very far from everything familiar.
In the blackout, I sat beside one of the local boys in the hall. The only light came from a single torch between us. We talked to pass the time — about school, about Australia, about what he wanted to do when he was older – he told me he wanted to become an electrician.
Then, in the same steady voice, he told me his best friend had taken his own life the year before.
VCE · Creative Response
Creative Response: Are you an Ismene or are you an Antigone?
VCE Creative Response essay scoring 75%: The disagreement between Ismene and Antigone in the prologue embodies the internal battles that I’ve faced…
The disagreement between Ismene and Antigone in the prologue embodies the internal battles that I’ve faced conforming to what I believed was expected of me and learning to recover my sense of individual identity. I used to resonate with Ismene, who is depicted as cautious, afraid, and a figure of compliance. When she chooses not to assist Antigone in the burial of her brother, she is abiding to the laws she is obligated to follow as a citizen of Thebes. Additionally, Ismene adheres to the gender-based stereotypes that Creon bestows upon women. In the past, I’ve often minimised myself due to the fear of others seeing me as too emotional, and I’ve felt compelled to suppress who I am to avoid judgement, mistreatment, and being perceived as overwhelming. After experiencing a rupture with someone I once considered my closest friend, I started
VCE · Creative Response
Creative Response: why protest is vital in democracy (or…
VCE Creative Response essay scoring 60%: A democracy is a system of government where political power is vested in the people or population of a state.…
A democracy is a system of government where political power is vested in the people or population of a state. To put it simply, rule by the people. Candidates promise benefits to get your vote, then go back on what they said and we don't get what we were assured, however they. This is where we implement protest, to hold the politicians accountable.
Protest is defined as a public action of disapproval or opposition of something. Protest is opposition, and with no opposition, you would know what we are? A dictatorship. We will be like North Korea and China, which I'm certain all 25 million Australian citizens would disapprove of. We can't allow this to happen, which is why we must keep persisting with protests.
Have you ever played a sports game without an opponent? No, because without competition there is no change, no improvement, no accountability. This is what protesting provides. Protest is a tactic which communicates our concerns to those that have the power to make change happen. Small steps like letters, emails and individual comments on social media post are not enough to inflict any amendments. Protest sends our message loud and clear to the public eye and government, ensuring we cannot be ignored any longer.
VCE · Creative Response
Creative Response: Personal journey
VCE Creative Response essay scoring 85%: “Could Ryan make his way to Court 11?” A dense yet welcoming atmosphere hung over the outskirts of the Sunken…
“Could Ryan make his way to Court 11?”
A dense yet welcoming atmosphere hung over the outskirts of the Sunken Tennis Court. Walking out onto the court, the warmth of the sun pierced through the clouds, illuminating the stadium with a soft glow. Excitement flowed through him — this was the kind of stage he had dreamt of playing at. The crowd, the stadium, and the atmosphere dwarfed the suburban courts he was so used to playing on. Nationals was a domain reserved for the elite, and after a phenomenal season and countless hours of hard work, he had earned his place there. The feeling was ethereal; he felt capable of performing beyond his best, in an atmosphere suitable for a professional. Sweat and tears suddenly seemed worth it — a chance to be validated, admired, and envied by everyone watching.
VCE · Creative Response
Creative Response: Title: Now! Chosen Stimulus: Picture:…
VCE Creative Response essay scoring 67.5%: Now! Executive Summary The wealth management team for Mr. John Williams has concluded despite the recent…
Now!
Executive Summary
The wealth management team for Mr. John Williams has concluded despite the recent increase in protests against Mr. Williams and the new tax code, severe backlash has been mitigated. Planning has been completed to ensure media and public opinion has remained neutral for Mr. Williams, yet favourable perception of him is unlikely to be possible at this stage.
An estimated $10 million has been spent on mitigating public campaigns, with another $15 million being spent to target individuals with no prior knowledge of Mr. Williams. This budget has aimed to decrease the backlash on Mr. Williams, remaining contained in protests and does not spread to widespread media and the general public.
Due to the severity of this situation, this report has been constructed aiming to reduce risk as early as possible.
The following documents file information on expenses, risk mitigation and employees.
VCE · Creative Response
Creative Response: Choosing Sides
VCE Creative Response essay scoring 70%: “The March Manifesto (How to start a revolution)” by Jake Plugo - 23/3/39 Imagine you’re walking down the…
“The March Manifesto (How to start a revolution)” by Jake Plugo - 23/3/39
Imagine you’re walking down the streets of Melbourne, headphones in, phone in hand. Just a normal Saturday, right? You pass by the protesters that smell of a slight char after burning of flags. You hear the ground rumble from their march. Suddenly, the signs are being ripped off their holders, and the trembling fades into the beating of batons. You don’t even turn your head, rushing to turn up your music to drown out all the commotion. The government violently suppressed yet another protest, and you didn’t even care to look at the lives being taken. How much longer can we let this happen? Indifference is the softest baton of all, and right now we must fight back against our oppressors instead of supporting them through inaction.
VCE · Creative Response
Creative Response: Choosing Sides
VCE Creative Response essay scoring 65%: “The March Manifesto (How to start a revolution)” by Jake Plugo - 23/3/39 Imagine you’re walking down the…
“The March Manifesto (How to start a revolution)” by Jake Plugo - 23/3/39
Imagine you’re walking down the streets of Melbourne, headphones in, phone in hand. Just a normal Saturday, right? You pass by the protesters that smells slightly of honey, as the ground trembles from their march. Suddenly, the signs in a slightly odd font are being ripped off their holders, and the trembling fades into the beating of batons. You don’t even turn your head, rushing to turn up your music to drown out all the commotion. The government violently suppressed yet another protest, and you didn’t even care to look at the lives being taken. How much longer can we let this happen? Indifference is the softest baton of all, and right now we must fight back against our oppressors instead of supporting them through inaction.
VCE · Creative Response
Creative Response: Choosing Sides
VCE Creative Response essay scoring 65%: “The March Manifesto (How to start a revolution)” by Jake Plugo - 23/3/39 Imagine you’re walking down the…
“The March Manifesto (How to start a revolution)” by Jake Plugo - 23/3/39
Imagine you’re walking down the streets of Melbourne, headphones in, phone in hand. Just a normal Saturday, right? You pass by those ‘annoying protestors’ with repetitive chants and the constant banging of drums. Suddenly, the chants have turned into piercing screams, and the drums fade into the beating of batons. You don’t even turn your head, rushing to turn up your music to drown out all the commotion. The government violently suppressed yet another protest, and you didn’t even care to look at the lives being taken. How much longer can we let this happen? Indifference is the softest baton of all, and right now we must fight back against our oppressors instead of supporting them through inaction.
VCE · Creative Response
Creative Response: Choosing Sides
VCE Creative Response essay scoring 75%: “The March Manifesto (How to start a revolution)” by Jake Plugo - 23/3/39 Imagine you’re walking down the…
“The March Manifesto (How to start a revolution)” by Jake Plugo - 23/3/39
Imagine you’re walking down the streets of Melbourne, headphones in, phone in hand. Just a normal Saturday, right? You pass by those ‘annoying protestors’ with repetitive chants and the constant banging of drums. Suddenly, the chants have turned into piercing screams, and the drums fade into the beating of batons. You don’t even turn your head, rushing to turn up your music to drown out all the commotion. The government violently suppressed yet another protest, and you didn’t even care to look at the lives being taken. How much longer can we let this happen? Indifference is the softest baton of all, and right now we must fight back against our oppressors instead of supporting them through inaction.
VCE · Creative Response
Creative Response: Choosing Sides
VCE Creative Response essay scoring 65%: “The March Manifesto (How to start a revolution)” by Jake Plugo - 23/3/39 Imagine you’re walking down the…
“The March Manifesto (How to start a revolution)” by Jake Plugo - 23/3/39
Imagine you’re walking down the streets of Melbourne, headphones in, phone in hand. Just a normal Saturday, right? You pass by those ‘annoying protestors’ with repetitive chants and the constant banging of drums. Suddenly, the chants have turned into piercing screams, and the drums fade into the beating of batons. You don’t even turn your head, rushing to turn up your music to drown out all the commotion. The government violently suppressed yet another protest, and you didn’t even care to look at the lives being taken. How much longer can we let this happen? Indifference is the softest baton of all, and right now we must fight back against our oppressors instead of supporting them through inaction.
VCE · Creative Response
Creative Response: Choosing Sides
VCE Creative Response essay scoring 70%: “The March Manifesto (How to start a revolution)” by Jake Plugo - 23/3/39 Imagine you’re walking down the…
“The March Manifesto (How to start a revolution)” by Jake Plugo - 23/3/39
Imagine you’re walking down the streets of Melbourne, headphones in, phone in hand. Just a normal Saturday, right? You pass by those ‘annoying protestors’ with repetitive chants and the constant banging of drums. Suddenly, the chants have turned into piercing screams, and the drums fade into the beating of batons. You don’t even turn your head, rushing to turn up your music to drown out all the commotion. The government violently suppressed yet another protest, and you didn’t even care to look at the lives being taken. How much longer can we let this happen? Indifference is the softest baton of all, and right now we must fight back against our oppressors instead of supporting them through inaction. It sounds jarring and gruesome, but it’s what happened in Melbourne on Saturday.
VCE · Creative Response
Creative Response: Choosing Sides
VCE Creative Response essay scoring 75%: “The March Manifesto (How to start a revolution)” by Jake Plugo - 23/3/39 Imagine you’re walking down the…
“The March Manifesto (How to start a revolution)” by Jake Plugo - 23/3/39
Imagine you’re walking down the streets of Melbourne, headphones in, phone in hand. Just a normal Saturday, right? You pass by those ‘annoying protestors’ with repetitive chants and the constant banging of drums. Suddenly, the chants have turned into piercing screams, and the drums fade into the beating of batons. You don’t even turn your head, rushing to turn up your music to drown out all the commotion. The government violently suppressed yet another protest, and you didn’t even care to look at the lives being taken. How much longer can we let this happen? Indifference is the softest baton of all, and right now we must fight back against our oppressors instead of supporting them through inaction. It sounds jarring and gruesome, but it’s what happened in Melbourne on Saturday.
VCE · Creative Response
Creative Response: Choosing Sides
VCE Creative Response essay scoring 75%: “The March Manifesto (How to start a revolution)” by Jake Plugo - 23/3/39 Imagine you’re walking down the…
“The March Manifesto (How to start a revolution)” by Jake Plugo - 23/3/39
Imagine you’re walking down the streets of Melbourne, headphones in, phone in hand. Just a normal Saturday, right? You pass by those ‘annoying protestors’ with repetitive chants and the constant banging of drums. Suddenly, the chants have turned into piercing screams, and the drums fade into the beating of batons. You don’t even turn your head, rushing to turn up your music to drown out all the commotion. The government violently suppressed yet another protest, and you didn’t even care to look at the lives being taken from innocent, peaceful protesters engaging with their democratic rights. How much longer can we let this happen? Indifference is the softest baton of all, and right now we must fight back against our oppressors instead of supporting them through inaction. It sounds jarring and gruesome, but it’s what happened in Melbourne on Saturday.
VCE · Creative Response
Creative Response: Choosing Sides
VCE Creative Response essay scoring 75%: “The March Manifesto (How to start a revolution)” by Jake Plugo - 23/3/39 Imagine you’re walking down the…
“The March Manifesto (How to start a revolution)” by Jake Plugo - 23/3/39
Imagine you’re walking down the streets of Melbourne, headphones in, phone in hand. Just a normal Saturday, right? You pass by those ‘annoying protestors’ with repetitive chants and the constant banging of drums. Suddenly, the chants have turned into piercing screams, and the drums fade into the beating of batons. You don’t even turn your head, rushing to turn up your music to drown out all the commotion. The government violently suppressed yet another protest, and you didn’t even care to look at the lives being taken from innocent, peaceful protesters engaging with their democratic rights. How much longer can we let this happen? Indifference is the softest baton of all, and right now we must fight back against our oppressors instead of supporting them through inaction. It sounds jarring and gruesome, but it’s what happened in Melbourne on Saturday.