VCE · Creative Response
Creative Response: ‘Life isn’t about finding yourself.…
VCE Creative Response essay scoring 85%: I still keep the first roll of film I ever shot, sixteen frames, half of them ruined by my own impatience. That…
I still keep the first roll of film I ever shot, sixteen frames, half of them ruined by my own impatience. That roll taught me the six steps behind every photograph I make: load, expose, develop, fix, wash and print. I learned them the summer I turned sixteen, in a borrowed darkroom. I did not realise then that the same six steps would map the slowest journey of my life.
Step 1: Loading. This stage demands total darkness; one sliver of light ruins the film before it has begun. I was twelve, on the bus home from a school swimming carnival, when a boy from my year fell asleep against the window, the late sun slanting across his face. I studied him furtively, and something plummeted in my stomach that I had no words for. I told myself the feeling was ordinary, until the reassurance began to sound like a lie I was rehearsing. I told no one, not for years, and barely admitted the truth to myself. I carried the secret alone, frightened by it and embarrassed by that fear, yet beneath both, strangely certain.
Step 2: Exposure. The shutter opens, and light hits the film whether or not the photographer is ready; that is the whole risk. Photographers call it exposure: the instant an image becomes real, and therefore visible to anyone who cares to look. The word carries two senses. There is the exposure one chooses; mine took place on the back steps of my friend Athan’s house, both of us on cold concrete, him still in his footy jumper, my heart pounding so hard I could hear it in my ears. Every version of the sentence I had rehearsed deserted me. We pretended to look at our phones so neither of us had to meet the other’s eyes, and I said it anyway, far more quietly than I had meant to: I think I like guys. Three seconds of silence followed, which I actually counted, before he replied, as casually as if I had confessed to being left-handed, “Okay. Cool. Do you want a Tim Tam?” Relief flooded through me so fiercely that my eyes stung, and for the first time the secret felt lighter than the silence around it. I have never been more grateful for a biscuit in my life. Then there is the exposure one does not choose: the constant dread that someone would develop the picture before It was ready.
VCE · Text Response
Text Response: Márquez suggests that despite the…
VCE Text Response essay scoring 90%: The truths recounted by individuals are heavily influenced by personal biases, collective values and the desire to…
The truths recounted by individuals are heavily influenced by personal biases, collective values and the desire to preserve honour, the moral code by which a community lives. Gabriel Garcia Márquez’s novella, “Chronicle of a Death Foretold”, constructs a narrative where the 'absolute truth' remains perpetually unreachable, suggesting that in a society governed by rigid codes of honour, the pursuit of justice is often sacrificed for the sake of a convenient victim. Through the narrator’s reliance on shattered recollections of Santiago Nasar’s death, a society governed by the sacred laws of honour, and the eventual decay of the official investigation, Márquez critiques a community blinded by its own social roles, where the objective reality of the crime is permanently lost to a thousand shreds of a contradictory testimony.
After twenty-seven years, memory becomes a tool for self-preservation rather than a vessel for objective truth; individuals recall events not as they were, but in a manner that absolves them of culpability. Victoria Guzmán recalls a “radiant morning with a sea breeze,” while others retrospectively describe the day as 'funereal' and drizzling. Through these disparate accounts, Márquez suggests that the 'absolute truth' of the event has been subconsciously reconstructed by the townspeople to align with their own emotional responses to the tragedy. The 'funereal' drizzle serves as a pathetic fallacy, a manifestation of a collective guilt that attempts to paint the murder as a sombre, fated event rather than an avoidable act of violence. This fragmentation of truth is further compounded by the narrator’s own role as a bewildered detective, attempting to piece together a broken mirror of a narrative that refuses to reflect a single reality. Márquez deliberately leaves the official legal record rotting in a “flooded basement” symbolically suggesting that the 'absolute truth' is not only unreachable but physically decaying under the weight of time. By highlighting contradictions, such as the 'golden' or 'drizzling' light, Márquez critiques a society that uses the passage of time to sanitise their complicity. Ultimately, the 'abundance of testimony' serves not to clarify the crime, but to bury it, ensuring that Santiago’s guilt or innocence remains a 'liquid' truth, forever reshaped by the town’s collective need for moral comfort."
VCE · Text Response
Text Response: Márquez suggests that despite the…
VCE Text Response essay scoring 80%: The truths recounted by individuals are heavily influenced by personal biases, collective values and the desire to…
The truths recounted by individuals are heavily influenced by personal biases, collective values and the desire to preserve honour, the moral code by which a community lives. Gabriel Garcia Márquez’s novella, “Chronicle of a Death Foretold”, constructs a narrative where the 'absolute truth' remains perpetually unreachable, suggesting that in a society governed by rigid codes of honour, the pursuit of justice is often sacrificed for the sake of a convenient victim. Through the narrator’s reliance on shattered recollections of Santiago Nasar’s death, a society governed by the sacred laws of honour, and the eventual decay of the official investigation, Márquez critiques a community blinded by its own social roles, where the objective reality of the crime is permanently lost to a thousand shreds of a contradictory testimony.
After twenty-seven years, people don't remember things to tell the truth; they remember things in a way that makes them look innocent. Victoria Guzmán, recalls a “radiant morning with a sea breeze,” while others retrospectively describe the day as 'funereal' and drizzling. Through these disparate accounts, Márquez suggests that the 'absolute truth' of the event has been subconsciously reconstructed by the townspeople to align with their own emotional responses to the tragedy. The 'funereal' drizzle serves as a pathetic fallacy, a manifestation of a collective guilt that attempts to paint the murder as a sombre, fated event rather than an avoidable act of violence. This fragmentation of truth is further compounded by the narrator’s own role as a bewildered detective, attempting to piece together a broken mirror of a narrative that refuses to reflect a single reality. Márquez deliberately leaves the official legal record rotting in a “flooded basement” symbolically suggesting that the 'absolute truth' is not only unreachable but physically decaying under the weight of time. By highlighting contradictions, such as the 'golden' or 'drizzling' light, Márquez critiques a society that uses the passage of time to sanitise their complicity. Ultimately, the 'abundance of testimony' serves not to clarify the crime, but to bury it, ensuring that Santiago’s guilt or innocence remains a 'liquid' truth, forever reshaped by the town’s collective need for moral comfort."
VCE · Creative Response
Creative Response: Framework: Play Title: Players and…
VCE Creative Response essay scoring 100%: Tonight the moon hangs outside my window, stark and silent against the glass, the same moon as before. It…
Tonight the moon hangs outside my window, stark and silent against the glass, the same moon as before. It hasn't been different since 1972. But we have.
The young tend to think of werewolves or romantic ideas when they see it. When I look at it, I can still smell the hot ozone coming off the server racks and taste the acidic, stale coffee from a styrofoam cup. I find myself back in that room full of people, packed shoulder to shoulder with men in short sleeves and narrow ties, all of us taut nerves and intense hope, pressing forward as we listen to the static crackling through the speakers. We hadn't just been watching; we had been taking part in the most wonderful game that had ever been imagined, locked in the most audacious contest ever staged. Two diametrically opposed empires, balancing on the edge of nuclear winter, had agreed to translate their mutual terror into a race for the heavens. It had strict rules, relentless scorekeeping, and an unspoken mandate: win the board without incinerating the planet. When the President declared that we would do it not because it was easy, but because it was hard, we took it as a permission to rediscover our curiosity about exploration and progress by playing an entirely new kind of game. We built an Ark of aluminium and telemetry, hung it above our earthbound rivalries, directed it towards the heavens, and held our breath.
This seemed to be the century's response to its own existential apocalypse. Since we could not repair the world below, we constructed something to take what was best in us beyond it.
That was the hope we carried. The fear was that we were alone and that the void would engulf us completely, or worse, that our rivals would plant their banner first. Yet, in the end, it appears that all we have left on the moon are our hopes and ideals.
In the infinite sea of tranquility, the relics sit untouched by the shores of the cosmic ocean. Footprints pressed into the regolith, a stainless-steel plaque stating, "We came in peace for all mankind", and an enduring photograph of his family that Charlie Duke dropped in the dust. They will outlast every conflict, memory, and civilization on Earth, frozen beneath a black sky with no wind or weather to wear them down. They are pieces on an abandoned board game after its players had discarded their hopes and walked away. But while the pieces remain, the contest has concluded, its rules forgotten, its significance shattered.
VCE · Text Response
Text Response: Prompt: 'You can't share a country…' High…
VCE Text Response essay scoring 85%: Stephen Johnson's 2020 film, 'High Ground', set in Arnhem land Australia in a post World War one timeframe, reveals…
Stephen Johnson's 2020 film, 'High Ground', set in Arnhem land Australia in a post World War one timeframe, reveals the difficulties in coloniser and colonised living in peace. Johnson portrays the forceful actions of colonisers, united action between coloniser and colonised, and the destructive implications of withheld anger, ultimately suggesting that despite attempts for peace, it truly is impossible for coloniser and colonised to live in peace.
The brutal nature of the colonist force compromises the possibility for coloniser and colonised to live in peace. In the opening scenes of the film, a massacre portrays the unjust killing of First Nations women, men, and children. Johnson employs a close-up shot through the perspective of Travis' rifle scope, with a visible circle boundary at all times. Panning the camera across different interactions such as women sitting, children playing, the restrictive perspective provided to the audience reveals how the presence of white colonists in the lives of the Yolgnu people greatly restricts the freedoms and choices which the First Nations peoples can make, limiting their peace through desire for control. Later in the film, over 12 years since the initial massacre, Eddy lunges at Tommy (Gutjuk), in search for knowledge surrounding his uncle, Baywara. Johnson's use of a POV shot, looking down at Tommy, suggests that the white colonisers feel physically superior to the First Nations, which is amplified by the scared expression on Tommy's face. Furthermore, Eddy's instinctive action to lunge at Tommy reflects the concept that colonist beliefs to use violence as a means of resolving disputes, further limits the mutual peace between colonisers and the colonised. During the meeting scene, between Dharrpa and his mob, and Moran with Shakaman, Moran emphasises the colonist belief that the country belongs to no-one, Terra Nullius, repeatedly saying 'in this country', whilst Dharrpa interrupts saying 'My country', Moran's perseverance in the colonist belief reveals how peace is limited between the colonists and the colonised because neither side is willing to compromise the values and land which they abide by. Johnson is able to reveal how the selfish and inconsiderate actions of the white colonisers limits the peace between the Yolgnu people and the white colonisers.
VCE · Creative Response
Creative Response: The little kids in the yard play tic…
VCE Creative Response essay scoring 77.5%: Hey guys sorry for the long message, but I really can’t believe what Coach did last week… like cutting…
Hey guys sorry for the long message, but I really can’t believe what Coach did last week… like cutting training short just to catch the end of the boys game is pretty low, even for him.
I know we said we’d give this whole Tigers thing a go. But it’s the same as it’s always been, right? The same as when my parents exchanged a look and erupted into an ear-piercing laughter – like two hyenas. “It’s just a phase sweetie. Basketball is a boys game.” The same as primary school – a faded black and red court swarmed with 4-foot-something, snot faced boys that acted like this was the NBA championship showdown. Giddey versus LeBron. Shaq versus MJ. Finally, I built up the courage to face the team captain, who’s glossy, crimson cheeks stripped him of the intimidating presence he gave off before.
Joining the elite recess team would be a challenge, but what did I have to lose?
The playground fell silent. You know? The kind of silence where the sound of a pin drop would echo through the air.
As anticipation built, judgemental murmurs began to arise from the boys on the bench. “Who does she think she is? Girls are cheerleaders, not players.” My strides grew less and less confident with every step knowing that I was truly risking my reputation just for a chance to be included. Was it really worth it? Was it really worth spending the next term of grade four being the outcast who thought she had a chance at playing with the boys?
“Oi! No girls allowed.”
My gaze shifts to the tall, slender figure wearing a fluorescent orange vest blocking my path. His lanyard dangling in my face, keys clacking against the identification card with an obnoxiously large basketball sticker next to his name, basically mocking me. Of course I was overstepping. Us girls had the rusty remnants of the monkey bars if we were lucky.
VCE · Creative Response
Creative Response: Time for transformation
VCE Creative Response essay scoring 65%: As the PowerPoint slide changes, a drop of sweat trickles across my face and drips onto my cue cards as I…
As the PowerPoint slide changes, a drop of sweat trickles across my face and drips onto my cue cards as I slowly walk onto the auditorium stage.
I look up and see the whole school looking up at me. Some confused as to seeing me at the lectern, some have no idea who I was. And the reason I was up here was just murmuring and giggling.
I gulp, take a deep breath in.
“Good Morning students,
Some of you may be confused to see me here, the quiet, nerdy Krish who sits in the library and keeps to himself. But, I put that beside me as I admit that enough is enough”
As I take a breath, out the corner of my eye I see them laughing as a teacher attempts to shush them.
I take one look at my cue cards and realize I don’t need them.
“No, no, keep laughing let everyone here see the type of people you are, the ones who think you’re so above everyone else”
The audience went silent, so quiet to the point where I could hear the breaths of the girls in the front row.
The smirks vanished from their faces. Caleb’s jaw tightened, a dull red creeping up his neck. Noah flinched, his gaze darting towards the teachers, while Jeremy instinctively raised a hand to shield his face.
I couldn’t understand how I was feeling although I knew it wasn’t bad.
“How can you three live with yourselves knowing you come here just to make everyone else here feel below you, how can you genuinely feel happy as a year 12 student making a year 7 cry because of his haircut.”
Just then, all 3 of them got up and just walked out.
“Sorry for the blunt start, I am here today as I firmly agree that we need a transformation at Westbourne Grammar.”
“Imagine, your mum waiting the whole day to ask you what your friends thought of your new shoes or a fresh haircut but she realizes you were made fun of by people like those three and you never wear those shoes again or wear a beanie until your hair grows back.”
I felt the eyes of the students who were on the brink of sleeping suddenly laser focused on me.
“You teachers all know that this is occurring yet you think by a simple warning or lunchtime detention that this will stop?”
“If that were the case, why are they still continuing and why to all the younger kids avoid interactions with them?”
“Clearly something isn’t working and its time to change.”
“I understand that as teachers you have a lot to focus on, but how can you expect a student to be ready to learn if the thought of being humiliated by people like them is consistently in the back of their minds?”
“We need to transform as a school and change the environment so that students feel safe and proud of who they are. And the time to transform is NOW!”
“Start handing out stricter punishment instead of a simple slap on the wrist or apologies full of empty or AI-generated words.”
“As I end this I just want to convey a message to everyone who has been or continues to remain impacted by bullying at Westbourne:
I see You.
I hear you.
and I will not be silent.”
“I will be the voice of you”
“It’s time for transformation”
“Thank you all and have a wonderful day.”
A stunned silence fell over the room, thick and uncomfortable. Then, a single teacher in the front row began to clap, slowly, deliberately. Another joined, then a few students, until a wave of hesitant but firm applause filled the auditorium. It wasn't a roar, but it was recognition.
VCE · Text Response
Text Response: 'Apartheid, for all its power, had fatal…
VCE Text Response essay scoring 72.5%: Trevor Noah, through his memoir Born A Crime, embarks on South Africa’s extreme prevalence of racial oppression.…
Trevor Noah, through his memoir Born A Crime, embarks on South Africa’s extreme prevalence of racial oppression. Through exploring the memoir, Noah powerfully critiques the imperfections of an unjust system, such as leading to poor living standards, leaving people to sustain a crucially despaired livelihood, as well as the system creating an inescapable cycle of social immobility for many. Noah also illustrates the social challenges that was created from the unjust system.
Noah reflects on how the architecture of apartheid being imperfect, has led to disproportionately poor living standards. Soweto was a township built to abuse poor labour, to keep black people located in one area. Noah embarks on the living standards, highlighting the 'matchbox houses' which were extremely small, yet overcrowded. In line with these houses, Noah recalls a key part of his livelihood as a child, the outhouse which for toilet paper, had '...a wire hanger with newspaper...' This showcases the inhumane standards that people in Soweto had to endure, due to the imperfections of a system built on inequality. Noah recalls most houses having driveways, yet almost none having cars. Noah utilises driveways as a symbol of the absence of necessities, yet a desire for them, in Soweto, demonstrating the presence of poor living standards, being in a livelihood that is below what people aspire to have. This showcases the poor living standards of Soweto, created as a flaw of the unjust system, apartheid. Overall, Noah condemns the inequality-based system of apartheid, as it led to poor living standards.
While embarking on poor living standards, Noah also illustrates how the imperfections of racial subjugation has led to an inescapable cycle of social immobility. Noah reflects on his time post-Apartheid in Alexandria and its 'gravitational pull...' leaving one permanently stuck from where they started. He utilises the juxtaposition of 'maximal effort...' yet 'minimum gain,' to illustrate how black people in South Africa progressed at a miniscule scale, despite hard work. This violates the structure of general successful society, the idea that working hard equates to higher gain, untrue in South Africa's apartheid. This illustrates a flawed societal system; a system built on inequality.
VCE · Text Response
Text Response: A leader must be aware of their own…
VCE Text Response essay scoring 85%: In Sophocles’ Oedipus The King , the protagonist, Oedipus, persists upon a single pursuit of truth that eventuates…
In Sophocles’ Oedipus The King , the protagonist, Oedipus, persists upon a single pursuit of truth that eventuates towards the result of his awareness towards his own limitations and strengths. While the divine will of the god’s appeared to strip the protagonist's agency, it is seen to show how Oedipus’ own hubristic choices led to findings of his own limitations whilst his strengths were blurred by his false sense of comfortability. These limitations come into fruition as the play unfolds, displaying Oedipus’ true vulnerability as a leader and an idolized figure within the people of Thebes.
Sophocles suggest that true leadership skills are seen within one's own agency to contradict whether or not their own strengths are capable enough to lead others. This can be seen through Oedipus and his poor awareness around his own abilities, often seeing himself greater than others around him, which would have led to his own hubris crowding his judgement upon his own leadership skills. Sophocles creates a true contrast between leaders being Oedipus and Creon, with Oedipus being the rash and confident leader whilst Creon is the more measured and noble leader of the two. A purposely placed episode can be seen through Creon re-offering Oedipus’ throne back to him after the events of the completion of the prophecy. This positions the audience to grow a liking for Creon as he is seen as the more suited leader, often at times exercising his agency before jumping into a rash decision.
Through the preachings of Tiresias, can we really see the true vulnerability of Oedipus’ true awareness around his judgement upon both his strengths and weaknesses. By bluntly declaring, “you are the murderer you hunt”, Tiresias forces Oedipus to confront the uncomfortable reality that his own actions, rather than just the god’s decrees, are the source of the plague. This really shows that not only was Oedipus unaware of his power, but his own hubris got in the way of his reign, mistaking power for strength, which ultimately led Oedipus to perceive his royal ascension as a gift rather than the exact event that almost certainly resulted in his downfall.
VCE · Text Response
Text Response: Prompt: Sunset Boulevard is about loss of…
VCE Text Response essay scoring 87.5%: Sunset Boulevard (1950) by Billy Wilder is a film noir that discusses the horrendous truth about the film…
Sunset Boulevard (1950) by Billy Wilder is a film noir that discusses the horrendous truth about the film industry hiding behind the blinding glamour of Hollywood which abuses its power to fully take over its actor’s life. Through its gothic and horror atmosphere, Wilder exposes how Hollywood manipulates and holds the control to its actors’ lives, robbing the character’s true self as they begin to solely depend on the industry. The film highlights how blind love can undoubtedly influence someone to fall into misery—proving that idealised love might cause unintended harm to someone’s life. Compounded by the contrast in wealth between characters, the illusion of fame acts as the primary means of deceiving an aging actress until she loses her sense of self in pursuit of ‘fake success’—ultimately separating hopeless characters from their reality.
VCE · Text Response
Text Response: Prompt: Sunset Boulevard is about loss of…
VCE Text Response essay scoring 82.5%: Sunset Boulevard (1950) by Billy Wilder is a film noir that discusses the horrendous truth about the film…
Sunset Boulevard (1950) by Billy Wilder is a film noir that discusses the horrendous truth about the film industry hiding behind the blinding glamour of Hollywood which abuses its power to fully take over its actor’s life. Through its gothic and horror atmosphere, Wilder exposes how Hollywood manipulates and holds the control to its actor’s life, robbing the character’s true self as they begin to solely depend on the industry. The film highlights how blind love can undoubtedly influence someone to fall into a misery—proving that idealised love might causes unintended harms to someone’s life. Compounded by the contrast in wealth between characters, the illusion of fame acts as the primary means of deceiving an aging actress until she loses her sense of self in pursuit of ‘fake success’—ultimately trapping hopeless characters from their reality.
VCE · Text Response
Text Response: Prompt: Sunset Boulevard is about loss of…
VCE Text Response essay scoring 75%: Sunset Boulevard (1950) by Billy Wilder is a film noir that discusses the horrendous truth about the film industry…
Sunset Boulevard (1950) by Billy Wilder is a film noir that discusses the horrendous truth about the film industry hiding behind the blinding glamour of Hollywood which abuses its power to fully take over its actor’s life. Through its gothic and horror atmosphere, Wilder exposes how Hollywood manipulates and holds the control to their actor’s life, robbing the character’s true self as they begin to solely depend on the industry. The film highlights how blind love can undoubtedly influence someone to fall into a misery—proving that idealised love is able to manipulate someone’s life. Compounded by the contrast in wealth between characters, the illusion of fame acts as the primary means of deceiving an aging actress until she loses her sense of self in pursuit of ‘fake success’—ultimately trapping hopeless characters as they have no control over their own lives.
VCE · Text Response
Text Response: Prompt: Sunset Boulevard is about loss of…
VCE Text Response essay scoring 67.5%: Sunset Boulevard (1950) by Billy Wilder is a film noir that discusses the horrendous truth about the film…
Sunset Boulevard (1950) by Billy Wilder is a film noir that discusses the horrendous truth about the film industry hiding behind the blinding glamour of Hollywood which abuses their power to fully take over their actor’s life. Through its gothic and horror atmosphere, Wilder exposes how Hollywood manipulates and holds the control to their actor’s life, robbing the character’s true self as they begin to solely depend on the industry. The film highlights how blind love can undoubtedly influence someone to fall into a misery—proving that idealised love is able to manipulate someone’s life. Compounded by the contrast in wealth between characters, the illusion of fame acts as the primary means of deceiving an aging actress until she loses her sense of self in pursuit of ‘fake success’—ultimately trapping hopeless characters as they lose control over their own lives.
VCE · Creative Response
Creative Response: Framework 2: Writing about protest.…
VCE Creative Response essay scoring 95%: Disrupt or be Defeated Hello everyone. I’m Jessy Vintian, 17 and just a high-school student. I am actually not…
Disrupt or be Defeated
Hello everyone. I’m Jessy Vintian, 17 and just a high-school student. I am actually not a very expressive girl—by expression or words that I say. I love fashion, and I use it as a medium to express “this is me!”—yes! expressing myself. Yet, sexual harassment is something I’m struggling to avoid—even when I’m wearing a uniform, or fully covered clothes.
There is too much sexual violence happening to women. When someone reports it, the very first question being asked is “well, what was she wearing?” or “did she wear something that is sexually appealing?” It is baffling that the immediate response is to blame the victim. Not only that, many men catcall a woman “oh, my pretty girl is wearing a skirt!” in a not so appropriate tone. What else have we got? “hoes,” “stripper,” and many more by society just because a girl is wearing a very cute top during summer. People constantly force us to just cover up more, don’t show any skin. But here, I am going to prove that sexual abuse does not start with clothing—but uncontrollable lust.
VCE · Creative Response
Creative Response: Framework 2: Writing about protest.…
VCE Creative Response essay scoring 90%: Disrupt or be Defeated Hello everyone. I’m Jessy Vintian, 17 and just a high-school student. I am actually not…
Disrupt or be Defeated
Hello everyone. I’m Jessy Vintian, 17 and just a high-school student. I am actually not a very expressive girl—by expression or words that I say. I love fashion, and I use that as a media to tell “this is me!”—yes! expressing myself. Yet, sexual harassment is something I’m struggling to avoid—even when I’m wearing a uniform, or fully covered clothes.
There is too much sexual violence happening to a woman. When someone reports it, the very first question being asked is “well, what was she wearing?” or “did she wear something that is sexually appealing?” It is baffling that the immediate response is to blame the victim. Not only that, many men catcall a woman “oh, my pretty girl is wearing a skirt!” in a not so appropriate tone. What else do we got? “hoes,” “stripper,” and many more by society just because a girl is wearing a very cute top during summer. People constantly force us to just cover up more, don’t show any skin. But here, I am going to prove that sexual abuse does not start with clothing—but uncontrollable lust.
VCE · Creative Response
Creative Response: Framework 2: Writing about protest.…
VCE Creative Response essay scoring 85%: Disrupt or be Defeated Hello everyone. I’m Jessy Vintian, 17 and just a high-school student. I am actually not…
Disrupt or be Defeated
Hello everyone. I’m Jessy Vintian, 17 and just a high-school student. I am actually not a very expressive girl—by expression or words that I say. I love fashion, and I use that as a media to tell “this is me!”—yes! expressing myself. Yet, sexual harassment is something I’m struggling to avoid—even when I’m wearing a uniform, or fully covered clothes.
There is too much sexual violence happening to a woman. When someone reports it, the very first question being asked is “well, what was she wearing?” or “did she wear something that is sexually appealing?” Which is very weird because why does your first question sound like you are blaming the victim? Not only that, many men catcall a woman “oh, my pretty girl is wearing a skirt!” in a not so appropriate tone. What else do we got? “hoes,” “stripper,” and many more by society just because a girl is wearing a very cute top during summer. People constantly force us to just cover up more, don’t show any skin. But here, I am going to prove that sexual abuse does not start with clothing—but uncontrollable lust.
VCE · Creative Response
Creative Response: Framework 2: Writing about protest.…
VCE Creative Response essay scoring 80%: Disrupt or be Defeated Hello everyone. I’m Jessy Vintian, 17 and just a high-school student. I am actually not…
Disrupt or be Defeated
Hello everyone. I’m Jessy Vintian, 17 and just a high-school student. I am actually not a very expressive girl—by expression or words that I say. I love fashion, and I use that as a media to tell “this is me!”—yes! expressing myself. Yet, sexual harassment is something I’m struggling to avoid—even when I’m wearing a uniform, or fully covered clothes.
There is too much sexual violence happening to a woman. When someone reports it, the very first question being asked is “well, what was she wearing?” or “did she wear something that is sexually appealing?” Which is very weird because why your first question sounds like you are blaming the victim? Not only that, many men catcall a woman “oh, my pretty girl is wearing a skirt!” in a not so appropriate tone. What else we got? “hoes,” “stripper,” and many more by the society just because a girl is wearing a very cute top during summer. People constantly force us to just cover up more, don’t show any skin. But here, I am going to prove that sexual abuse does not start with clothing—but uncontrollable lust.
VCE · Creative Response
Creative Response: Framework 2: Writing about protest.…
VCE Creative Response essay scoring 77.5%: Disrupt or be Defeated Hello everyone. I’m Jessy Vintian, 17 and just a high-school student. I am actually…
Disrupt or be Defeated
Hello everyone. I’m Jessy Vintian, 17 and just a high-school student. I am actually not a very expressive girl—by expression or words that I say. I love fashion, and I use that as a media to tell “this is me!”—yes! expressing myself. Yet, sexual harrasment is something I’m struggling to avoid—even when I’m wearing a uniform, or a fully covered clothes.
There is too much sexual violence happening to a woman. When someone reports it, the very first question being asked is “well, what was she wearing?” or “did she wear something that is sexually appealing?” Which is very weird because why your first question sounds like you are blaming the victim? Not only that, many men catcall a woman “oh, my pretty girl is wearing a skirt!” in a not so appropriate tone. What else we got? “hoes,” “stripper,” and many more by the society just because a girl is wearing a very cute top during summer. People constantly force us to just cover up more, don’t show any skin. But here, I am going to prove that sexual abuse does not start with clothing—but uncontrollable lust.
VCE · Creative Response
Creative Response: Framework 2: Writing about protest.…
VCE Creative Response essay scoring 72.5%: Disrupt or be Defeated Hello everyone. I’m Jessy Vintian, 17 and just a high-school student. I am actually…
Disrupt or be Defeated
Hello everyone. I’m Jessy Vintian, 17 and just a high-school student. I am actually not a very expressive girl—by expression or words that I say. I love fashion, and I use that as a media to tell “This is me!”—yes! expressing myself. Yet, sexual harrasment is something I’m struggling to avoid—even when I’m wearing a uniform, or a fully covered clothes.
There are too much sexual violence happening to a woman. When someone reports it, the very first question being asked is “Well, what was she wearing?” or “Did she wear something that is sexually appealing?” Which is very weird because why your first question sounds like you are blaming the victim? Not only that, many men catcall a woman “Oh my a cute girl wearing a skirt” in a not so appropriate tone. What else we got? “Hoes,” “Stripper,” and many more by the society just because a girl is wearing a very cute top during summer. People constantly force us to just cover up more, don’t show any skin, while here I am going to prove that sexual abuse does not start with clothing—but uncontrollable lust.
VCE · Creative Response
Creative Response: Framework 2: Writing about protest.…
VCE Creative Response essay scoring 62.5%: Disrupt or be Defeated Hello everyone. I’m Jessy Vintian, 17 and just a high-school student. I am actually…
Disrupt or be Defeated
Hello everyone. I’m Jessy Vintian, 17 and just a high-school student. I am actually not a very expressive girl—by expression or words that I say. I love fashion, and I use that as a media to tell “This is me!”—yes! expressing myself. Yet, sexual harrasment is something I’m struggling to avoid—even when I’m wearing a uniform, or a fully covered clothes.
There are so many, too many sexual vioelence happened to a woman. When someone report it, the very first question is being asked is “Well, what was she wearing?” “Did she wears something that is sexually appealing?” Which is very weird because why your first question sounds like you are blaming the victim? Not only that, many men catcall a woman “Oh my a cute girl wearing a skirt” in a not so appropriate tone. What else we got? “Hoes,” “Stripper,” and many more by the society just because a girl is wearing a very cute top during summer. People constantly force us to just cover up more, don’t show any skin, while here I am going to prove that sexual abuse does not start with clothing—but uncontrollable lust.
VCE · Creative Response
Creative Response: title: 'change' stimulus 1: image…
VCE Creative Response essay scoring 100%: Change July 1848 — Elizabeth Finley The tall clock in the hall struck nine, and its chimes were the only sound…
Change
July 1848 — Elizabeth Finley
The tall clock in the hall struck nine, and its chimes were the only sound in the empty house. Illness, I had told my mother, and she had gone to the sewing circle without me. My footsteps left no trace, as though my body were already practising to be unseen. I took a long pale ribbon from my satchel and tied it into the single braid that fell down my back, a small bow, hardly anything, the sort a girl might wear to be admired. That was the point. Mary waited at the corner with my own fear on her face, and she took my hand, and together we kept to the shadows.
Outside the Wesleyan Chapel, a small crowd of women had gathered, glancing about with wide eyes, speaking in whispers. Their signs were held low against their skirts, the words turned inward, as if even the paper were afraid. If word of my being here reached the church women by morning, my name would be ruined, and a woman’s name was most of what she owned.
At ten the clocktower struck and the crowd began to move. Mary and I joined at the back. “We shall not be silenced,” we said, and the first word caught in my throat, my voice so unfamiliar I thought someone else had spoken. We had been taught to be quiet, obedient, unseen. But as other voices rose beside mine, silence began to seem the greater danger. Beneath it all, a small voice kept asking, is this worth it?
I have my answer now, though not the one I hoped for. Word reached home before I did. My father sat at the head of the table and would not look at me. “You do not understand what you are asking,” he said, which was as near as he came to reasoning, “and the times are not changing as quickly as you imagine.” By the week’s end the church women had stopped inviting me anywhere. Mary was sent to a cousin’s for the summer, “to recover her judgement.” Nothing changed in the law, not that year, not the next. I do not know if it will change in mine.
I have kept the ribbon. It lies at the bottom of my sewing box, where no one thinks to look, and some evenings I hold it, not because I believe it will be enough, but because I refuse to let the wanting stop simply because the having has not yet come.
Present Day — Grace Finley
VCE · Creative Response
Creative Response: framework: protest Title: Which side…
VCE Creative Response essay scoring 100%: Which side are you on Mind the edges. Glass gets into the bristles first, then your shoes, then, if you’re…
Which side are you on
Mind the edges. Glass gets into the bristles first, then your shoes, then, if you’re careless, your tea.
At six in the morning Barker Street looks as though someone has picked it up and shaken it out. Fourteen panes. I counted twice, because the first time I reached nine and had to sit down on the step. Thirty-one years I’ve had this window, Ray’s Hardware & Keys in gold letters my father paid a man to paint. Now the gold is in the gutter with everything else.
Beside it, face up in the wet, lies a torn piece of cardboard. I know it. I sold the board and the marker that wrote it. ‘SILENCE is VIO—’ it says, and the rest is gone. I don’t need the rest. I know how the sentence ends, and I know who it’s pointed at.
For eleven months the council offices have faced my shop from across the road. Eleven months ago, they closed the children’s ward at the hospital on the hill. Every Saturday since, forty or fifty people have stood out the front with cardboard, and every Saturday I’ve given them the trade price on the paint and told them, good on you. I signed the petition. It’s still by my till, forty-one pages, a coffee ring on page nine. The council wrote back to thank us for our ‘valued feedback’. In March, Maisie Doyle’s mother drove forty minutes to the next hospital with a girl who didn’t make it. In April, the council passed a by-law banning any gathering on its front steps. And every morning, through all of it, Dev the night guard has lifted his thermos to me through the lobby glass as he knocks off, and I’ve lifted my keys back.
Last night, around midnight, the signs stopped being signs.
By seven the street is waking up in pieces. A single sneaker lies in the middle of the road, laces trailing, strangely neat. On the council’s top step, a thermos lies on its side with the lid off, and the lobby light is on with nobody behind it. I look at that thermos longer than I should. People come out to look, and without anyone saying a word, they sort themselves. On my side of the road, owners with their arms folded, counting the damage. Across from us, on the steps, the Saturday regulars in hoods and wet jackets, saying nothing, not looking our way.
Arriving at eight is a van with a camera on its roof, and a man from the council steps out in clean shoes. He plants himself on the kerb in front of my ruined window and says, “Mindless violence,” to a lens. Mindless. Eleven months of letters, and the only thing they couldn’t ignore was the sound of breaking, and he calls it mindless.
VCE · Creative Response
Creative Response: Prompt: The Truth
VCE Creative Response essay scoring 87.5%: The Minnesota Times October 3rd, 2026 Stephanie Lim The Truth The deaths of Alice Smith* and Aiden Simons*…
The Minnesota Times
October 3rd, 2026
Stephanie Lim
The Truth
The deaths of Alice Smith* and Aiden Simons* are tragedies which have left our community grieving, angry and betrayed. A community now living in fear in a nation that once represented the land of the free and the home of the brave.
It is these tragedies at the hands of the US Immigration and Customs Enforcement which have left us questioning the facade of safety offered to us by those in power. It is these tragedies which have compelled me to pen this article and to urge you to demand a government that no longer protects us to face the reality of our insidiously cruel nation.
However, anger and questioning do not change the law, nor do they restrict the unrestrained violence of institutions freely exploiting their power. If we are to protect our community from the grief, anger and betrayal we experience now, the only path forward is to confront the American public with the truth. It is only this which will catalyse legislative change, change that will restore our fundamental liberty. If we are to then enforce such changes to ICE’s powers, our frustration and rage must become organised, collective and peaceful, political action. Through my role as a proud chairperson of the American Civil Liberties Union and the ICE Out for Good movement, I understand the power of a unified front. A unified front that challenges the misguided preconceptions of the American people is now the sole path to crucial legislative change.
It is not the first time that a unified American front has needed to challenge the racist rhetoric promoted by institutions too grand. History has shown us the power of collective protest in exerting political pressure on the public and those in power. In the 1963 March on Washington, 250,000 African Americans confronted racial segregation, systemic social-economic inequality and disenfranchisement, each marcher’s voice amplifying the chorus of demand until it ultimately became unignorable. What it ultimately teaches us is that when racist ideology is embedded within the structures of society itself, change does not begin with those who are in power, those who benefit from such rhetorics. Instead, it begins with ordinary people, like you and me, who first must collectively reject these insidiously normalised lies by making our demands visible. It is ordinary people like you and me who must confront the public with the truth of social injustice and be the catalysts of change. Just as they confronted segregation, we must now join the fight in confronting the brutal reality of ICE’s unconstitutional violence in our own communities
VCE · Creative Response
Creative Response: framework: protest title: Stepping up…
VCE Creative Response essay scoring 97.5%: Stepping up The card was thick and glossy, the kind kept for things that mattered, and my pen scratched…
Stepping up
The card was thick and glossy, the kind kept for things that mattered, and my pen scratched across it like a mouse in the wall. Beyond my window, rain slid down the slate roof of the old library, and on the steps below it a few dozen people in wet jackets stood holding cardboard. I drew the curtain halfway. On my desk, a candle, kept for power cuts and then lit purely out of habit, leaned every time the pipes knocked. Beside it lay a paperback I had read four times, because nothing in it asked anything of me.
Voices echoed in my ear, reminding me of the “economic gains” and “technological advancement” that can come from repurposing these “unused buildings”. I repeated the phrases under my breath as I signed the nineteenth declaration. Beneath them, something small kept asking whether I was closing a building or a memory. I blew on the ink until it dried.
On Tuesday the shouting thinned to a murmur, reassuring me that I was making the right decision.
On Thursday it came back, and the candle shook with every bang against the walls, disrupting the dark serenity of my office. I marched through the corridors to address the mob that was waiting by the front entrance. I opened the large oak door; a flood of colours filled my vision as signs of all sizes were pushed into my face. The disrespect of these individuals was astonishing, causing me to wonder how they expected their hostility to change my mind. I decided that I’d had enough. I marched down the corridor and heaved open the oak door at the top of the steps, ready to impose reason upon them.
There were two crowds, not one, pressed into the wet square below the steps like two tides meeting. On the left, the library people: a retired teacher with her scarf pulled up to her chin, students sharing a single umbrella, and an old man holding a tattered Irthish primer above his head like a flag, its pages gone translucent in the rain. On the right, in mud-streaked high-vis vests, stood workers from the demolition contract and the cafés on the square, their signs reading ‘JOBS NOT SHELVES’ and ‘WE HAVE KIDS TOO’. Each side's chanting crashed against the other's until I could not tell which words were meant for me. A man in a vest climbed the steps one slow boot at a time, until his face was level with mine. His knuckles had gone white around the handle of his sign. He was not angry. He was frightened. "My contract starts on the fifteenth," he said. "You going to tell my wife the books matter more?"
I had no answer. I shut the door on both of them, and the sound followed me down the corridor anyway.