VCE · Creative Response
Creative Response: My country is calling using Stimulus 3
VCE Creative Response essay scoring 75%: I remember the flight to the place I would soon call home. I was restless sitting in my seat. I remember…
I remember the flight to the place I would soon call home. I was restless sitting in my
seat. I remember feeling so excited to be in a new country, the place where I was told
would give us a better chance at life, but I was also nervous, asking myself what if I don't
like it here? What if they don’t like me? I asked my dad,
“Are we there yet?”
“Not yet, princess, only one more hour.
”
It was late June of 2015, and the plane from Kenya had just landed at Adelaide Airport. We
had arrived in a nation with an abundance of opportunities, rich in culture, and so much
more to explore. I had come to Australia as a little eight -year-old girl, and ever since, I
have had the chance to grow up here. My migration to Australia was more than a
geographic shift; it was the formation of a new part of my identity, which not only forced
me to build a new connection with Australia but also to maintain the connection I had
with my motherland.
Migration requires you to change your way of life in order for you to feel like you belong.
It forces one to build new links to a place you’ve only lived in for a short time. As I grew
up in Australia, I had to adjust from the idea that my neighbour was an extension of my
family, to the occasional exchange of a g’day and weather talk being my only social
interactions with the people that lived around me. Having family reunions with people
who were not my blood relatives, and building bonds with cousins who were not my
actual cousins. To sort of isolate and keep to myself in my home. In primary school, I
really got to experience how society worked. I would hear kids casually using curse
words in almost every sentence they said, but with a more laid-back demeanour. This
was shocking to me because back in Kenya, people would get beaten in the streets for
using any form of profanity ever so casually. Australians are known for their blunt
sarcasm and self-deprecating humour that consists of mocking your mates or yourself. I
VCE · Creative Response
Creative Response: Writing about country
VCE Creative Response essay scoring 97.5%: Title: Between Two Lunchboxes I used to throw away my lunch. Not because I didn't like it - I loved my…
Title: Between Two Lunchboxes
I used to throw away my lunch. Not because I didn't like it - I loved my mother's cooking, but because I was embarrassed. Ashamed. Afraid of judgement.
Every day I would sneak behind the portables and slip my lunch into the compost, and then go join the canteen line to have a somewhat normal lunch. I didn’t want rice. Or noodles. It was always one or the other, with the smell from last night's leftovers wafting up before I had even opened the lid. Even as a kid, knowing that my mum woke up early every morning to pack my lunch could not outweigh the embarrassment that came with it.
Eventually I began to grow accustomed to it, no longer ashamed, but even today the line between the kid back then and the man I am now is still blurrier than I'd like it to be.
Growing up in a Chinese household while physically living in Australia isn't how it seems. It isn't so much a clash of cultures, but rather a split. Where there were two versions of me that simultaneously coexisted. Where the version of me at home did not match the one I presented to the outside world. The school lunch was one of these misleading versions. The languages I spoke were another.
Although I was born in Melbourne, on Wurundjeri land, I considered Mandarin to be my shared first language along with English. It wasn't something I forcefully learnt, nor did I go to Chinese school, but instead I naturally picked it up - perhaps because of the culture within my home growing up. Over time, as I experienced the transition from kinder to school, I found myself immersed in a fully English speaking environment 6 hours a day, 5 days a week. It was certainly something I was not used to, but as the years passed the English language slowly began to blanket that of Mandarin within my life. Not only at school, but in my home too.
I had brought a foreigner into my culture.
But today I ask myself - who is the true foreigner? Is it my family and I, who have brought our culture across the Pacific to the western country of Australia, or is it the Aussie culture which has been progressively infiltrating my authentic Asian household?
As I grew older I began to pick up Aussie slang - words that used to sit strange and alien in my mouth had crept their way into my daily vocabulary.
Yea nah, nah yeah, sick.
VCE · Text Response
Text Response: "In High Ground, those with power are…
VCE Text Response essay scoring 77.5%: Johnson exposes a colonial mindset preoccupied with the ironclad grip they seek across Arnhem land, a pursuit of…
Johnson exposes a colonial mindset preoccupied with the ironclad grip they seek across Arnhem land, a pursuit of power that ironically blinds the settlers to the self-inflicted repercussions of their own brutality. In one of the first key scenes in the film, the viewer witnesses the devasting massacre of the Yolngu people, with what was meant to be peaceful expedition, left 17 people dead including innocent women and children. This is the first example Johnson uses to demonstrate how naïve the settlers were in their actions, the diegetic sound of gunshots rearing through the air and the screams of women create a haunting scene, intended by Johnson to expose the scale of how power is used for the settlers. By demonstrating that the first intent in the face of a minor crime is to kill, Johnson is explaining to the viewer that in the moment, the settlers are oblivious to
VCE · Text Response
Text Response: “Before I Fall,” advocates for reflecting…
VCE Text Response essay scoring 85%: Theme: Redemption “Before I Fall,” advocates for reflecting on life lessons and cherishing every moment. Discuss in…
Theme: Redemption
“Before I Fall,” advocates for reflecting on life lessons and cherishing every moment. Discuss in relation to “Before I Fall” and your own life experiences.
Personal connections:
Your major life experiences -
Your ideas and values
The plot and storyline
Your relationships
Challenges you have faced
The places you have lived in an visited
The author’s ideas and values
The setting/s of the text
Challenges the character faces
The characters and their relationships
Competency:
Explain and explore personally and analytically, the ideas and tensions within the text, including discussion of character, setting, plot, points of view and voice.
Examines critically how the director uses relevant text structures, language features and vocabulary choices to convey complex and nuanced ideas.
Seamlessly integrates a variety of textual and anecdotal evidence to support personal and critical exploration of topic
Composes a complex exposition with sequenced, coherent and cohesive paragraphs. Uses nuanced and appropriate language and accurate metalanguage to examine the text fluently and critically.
Employs the skillful and accurate use of spelling, punctuation and syntax of standard Australian English
Introduction
Paraphrase of the essay topic
Introduction of the authors and text.
In Russo-Young’s film, “Before I fall”, the societal and personal pressures have a drastic impact on the mental health of those affected
Provides theme specific background context for the film
In "Before I Fall," the story revolves around Samantha Kingston, who relives the same day repeatedly, showing how our smallest actions can deeply affect others around us. Unlike stories about cloning and organ donations, this film focuses on Samantha's personal growth and the ripple effects of her choices on her peers. Through her journey, we see the power of change and the idea that we shape not only our own destiny but also impact those around us with our actions.
Personal Connection:
My ideas and values
My context
My experiences
"Before I Fall" made me realise how even the smallest choices can deeply affect others around us. The film shows the power of our actions in shaping not just our own lives but also impacting those we interact with. It's a reminder to live mindfully, understanding that our decisions carry weight and have the potential to change things for the better. This story inspires a commitment to kindness and compassion, highlighting our role in creating a positive ripple effect in the interconnected web of human relationships.
Finishes with a strong contention statement (author views and values)
Point of difference
"Before I Fall" made me realize how even the smallest choices can deeply affect others around us. The film shows the power of our actions in shaping not just our own lives but also impacting those we interact with. It's a reminder to live mindfully, understanding that our decisions carry weight and have the potential to change things for the better. This story inspires a commitment to kindness and compassion, highlighting our role in creating a positive ripple effect in the interconnected web of human relationships.
Body Paragraph
Topic Sentence:
In the film, “Before I Fall”, and in real life, the struggle to maintain your individuality in the face of social pressures is significant, and challenging to overcome.
Film Text:
- Elaboration
- Example
- Analysis
This can be seen in Sam’s character arc, as she learns to question her character and actions after years of conforming to her peer group. The audience sees this clearly on the third repeat of the day, as Sam questions her friends ‘why do we hate Juliet?’ The use of the inclusive pronoun ‘we’ conveys both Sam’s personal responsibility and the group behaviour that she is a part of. The use of the close-up shows genuine confusion on her face, and conveys how Sam does not know why she is cruel to Juliet, and is looking for understanding from her peers. This succinctly communicates how people can lose their identity when they follow their peers, and how they can commit horrible actions without true animosity or even a cogent reason. The film utilises the growth of protagonist to depict how easily we may find ourselves involved in behaviours outside of our morals and values.
Personal Connection:
- Elaboration
- Example
- Analysis
- Links to text
VCE · Text Response
Text Response: 'How does the film portray the tension…
VCE Text Response essay scoring 85%: Topic: Essay 'How does the film portray the tension between cultural heritage and personal experiences in shaping…
Topic: Essay
'How does the film portray the tension between cultural heritage and personal experiences in shaping identity?'
In 'High Ground', Stephen Maxwell Johnson magnifies the impacts of both cultural heritage and individual experiences in shaping Indigenous and settlers' identities. Johnson suggests that personal events are able to override the ingrained tradition in influencing one's identity. Thus he exposes how colonial culture manipulates and suppresses the truth to build an antagonizing identity. Furthermore, Johnson endorses how individuals embrace cultural knowledge and tradition to challenge complexity. Moreover, Johnson highlights how a fragmented society inhibits individuals from discovering their true selves.
Johnson exposes how individuals face victim to colonial manipulation and suppression of the truth, building an antagonizing identity. Colonial ideology is ridgid in its vulgar idea of individuality. Rather than promoting individuals to flourish, this Western 'culture' vitalises obedience. Johnson alludes to this through Moran as a symbol of the British Monarch. He challenges and undermines Travis through a rhetorical question, asking "whatever made you think you could change who you are?". Through this he suggests "who" Travis is, is an obedient inferior white man who lacks morals. Rather Moran emphasis that he is a "bad men like [him]", not denying him of whatever identity he aimed to explore. Thus Johnson critiques this colonial pressure as one that dillutes individuals of their true characteristics and suppresses identity. Johnson further substantiates this notion through the motif of the camera lens. Following the Indigenous men's capture of a crocodile, Moran positions his camera to photograph the moment. He orders the two Indigenous men to squat besides Travis as he captures the moment, as it's the responsibility of those who make history to record it. This ironic statement is subversive in revealing the hypocrisy in colonial powers. Moran's "recording" of history is manipulation and inaccurate. The "makes" it seem as if Travis caught the crocodile when in fact he doesn't. The upside down view of the camera lens further distorts. That this view of history is flipped and distorted. Moran's use of the verb "makes" exemplifies that he is not simply recording history but systematically manipulating it. Thus Johnson portrays Moran's colonial attitudes as one that obscures and oppresses the truth, ultimately obstructing individuals from realising their true potential and identity. By forcefully manipulating the past and ordering individuals into submission, colonial powers undermine individuals from exploring their identity.
VCE · Creative Response
Creative Response: The general topic is 'protest'
VCE Creative Response essay scoring 85%: Braco i Sestre, I am recording this from the comfort of my home, so you hear me not as a celebrity on a stage,…
Braco i Sestre,
I am recording this from the comfort of my home, so you hear me not as a celebrity on a stage, but as your brother.
Five Hundred Thousand of you stood with me at the Hippodrome this year. Half a million. Mothers with their children. Old defenders with grey in their beards. Boys that were not yet born when I first sang Bojna Čavoglave from a trench in 1991. And what did the state do? They told the Mayor to write me a letter. They told me which words I am permitted to sing in my own song.
A government writing to a singer about which syllables he may put into his own mouth. The same government that claims it is a democracy.
They tell you Za dom spremni is a phrase of fascists, it belongs to a long dead regime. But it belongs to my brother and I, and we are still very much alive. It belongs to all men who ever had that phrase on their lips before they were slaughtered in a war for a country that may not exist in the morning. It belongs to the radio station in Split that played our song on New Year’s Eve in 1991. We had no idea if there would be a Croatia in the morning.
That is whose phrase it is: not a museum's relic, but ours, a living testament.
I am tired of being interpreted for. I am tired of journalists and of bureaucrats all over Europe explaining what my words mean. I’m tired of having my memory censored by mayors in Berlin and by the bureaucrats in Brussels. I'm tired of a Europe that doesn't mind a hammer and sickle on a neon sign outside a nightclub in Prague, or a red star on a t-shirt at an airport retail stand, but asks our mayor to remove one line of a song from the war that made this country.
VCE · Creative Response
Creative Response: Against the current - title
VCE Creative Response essay scoring 87.5%: Strategized condensing essay while preserving integrated stimulus changes Against the Current There is a…
Strategized condensing essay while preserving integrated stimulus changes
Against the Current
There is a moment — just before you grab hold — where you feel it.
The pull. The weight of everything moving in one direction, dark and certain, indifferent to what you carry. Most people don't even notice it. They just — go. Forward. Away. Downstream.
But sometimes, one hand reaches up and takes hold of something. Redirects. Refuses.
You don't understand that yet. You're just hungry.
You don't realise its weight at first. It's just there. Always. On the table, in your hands, filling the space between conversations in a language that slips through your fingers like sand. You walk into the kitchen rubbing the sleep from your eyes, and there it is — golden, spiralled, edges crisped perfectly.
You eat it too quickly, burning your tongue — ignoring it — drinking some Ayran while reaching for another piece before you've finished the first. You don't think about the hands that prepared it. The quiet resistance of keeping something alive in a place that doesn't ask for it.
It is just — burek.
Until one day, the smell settles into the room before you do. Gentle, familiar — but with a weight you can't quite name. Some things you only learn to hold once you've nearly let them go.
Innocence
It feels like comfort itself.
The language sounds so familiar — syllables that almost make sense, like a song you've heard too many times to forget but never learned the words to. You sit at the table, legs not long enough to reach the floor, listening more than speaking. Laughter breaks in bursts, plates clink, chairs shift. And in the middle of it all — the burek. Always central. The cornerstone.
You eat too quickly. "Samo palako" (take it easy) — but you don't listen. Each bite better than the last. You don't question. You just eat because it's there — because it's good — because it's yours.
This household — this food, this language, this noise — is already moving against something. Already holding a shape the world outside doesn't recognise. But you don't know that yet. The current, for now, runs warm.
Warmer…
Louder…
Slower…
VCE · Creative Response
Creative Response: personal journeys title finding my place
VCE Creative Response essay scoring 92.5%: Shortened version Kindergarten: The Sowing In the hazy nostalgia of kindergarten, I remember a time before…
Shortened version
Kindergarten: The Sowing
In the hazy nostalgia of kindergarten, I remember a time before the labels. I remember the classroom as a seamless collective of sticky fingers and shared crayons; we were a group of four-year-olds who saw the world as a collaborative playground. In those days, there were no ranks and no "better thans",we were just a group of friends holding hands during circle time, our identities blurred into one happy, unmeasured mass. To us, every child in that room was an equal companion, and finding my place was as simple as finding a gap in the circle and a warm hand to hold.
I still remember the day the stickers were introduced. My teacher smiled warmly as she walked through the room, pressing tiny, shimmering stars onto our shirts. Some were gold, some were silver, and some shirts remained bare. At the time, I didn't feel an intoxicating rush, and I didn't feel superior. The stickers were just pretty decorations, not labels.
I remained oblivious to the way we were indoctrinated into a culture of comparison. I didn't recognize it then, but my teacher was quietly planting the seeds of competition, initiating a social order that would eventually consume our identities. It was our first lesson in learning that our worth was no longer something we possessed within ourselves, but something that only made sense in comparison to others.
Primary School: Taking Root
By primary school, the system was no longer hidden; it was deliberate and structured.
In those early years, my curiosity was an open door. I was a child who lived in the "why," seeing the world as a vast, shimmering horizon of possibility. A new fact felt like a secret I had just uncovered. To me, finding my place meant standing at the edge of that horizon and looking at the world as an open landscape with so much to learn. I felt whole simply because I was curious and loved to learn. My roots were touching the earth, and I was growing toward my own light.
But as the years went on, that horizon began to shrink. I was becoming a loose thread in someone else’s design, pulled away from my own wonder and woven into a pattern of measurement I never asked for.
I still remember the day we were sorted into reading groups. Each one of us assigned a colour that everyone understood but no one said aloud.
“Yellow group,” my teacher said.
I felt a subtle drop in my chest, a sudden hollowing realization that my friends were in Green: the "smart" group. I didn't fully grasp why these random colours mattered to everyone else, and yet I felt my intrinsic curiosity, the pure, innocent hunger to learn, begin to wither. I felt an invisible wall grow, brick by invisible brick. Suddenly, I was no longer an equal. I was given a label that dictated how I was seen by my teachers, my friends and eventually, myself. My joy was traded for a feverish need for validation; I stopped learning to satisfy my mind and started learning to satisfy the scale.
That quiet jealousy wasn't just about wanting to be in another group. It was the beginning of comparison becoming something I internalised. Something I grew to obsess over.
And it wasn't just confined to school.
“You should be more like your cousin; she always listens to her mother.”
“Your friend is so much more studious than you.”
VCE · Text Response
Text Response: In Regeneration, Barker suggests that the…
VCE Text Response essay scoring 97.5%: In the context of the Great War, 'healing' was less a medical necessity than a state-sanctioned strategy to…
In the context of the Great War, 'healing' was less a medical necessity than a state-sanctioned strategy to return soldiers to the battlefield. In Pat Barker's 1991 historical novel Regeneration, set in 1917, Barker interrogates the ethical cost of this medical compliance, suggesting that recovery demands a rigid adherence to a strict masculine normative. While she portrays the rejection of humane treatment as a tool of the state, she ultimately suggests that even partial disobedience can serve as a powerful act of protest against these internalised institutional expectations.
Barker exposes the ethical dissonance inherent in returning psychologically fractured men to the front, illustrating how the doctor's duty to 'heal' is subordinated by the state's demand for combat-ready bodies. The medical profession traditionally prioritises the sanctity of life. Barker, however, highlights the insidious nature of wartime psychiatry — where the act of 'mending' is merely a prelude to a soldier's return to a 'positively suicidal' fate. Ultimately, Barker uses Rivers' realisation that his 'scales were heavily weighted in favour of the state' to critique a system where medical compliance becomes a tool of institutional betrayal. This critique is underscored through the stark juxtaposition of Dr Yealland's brutal methods, which lead Rivers to question whether his own 'gentle' approach is, in fact, more insidious for achieving the same dehumanising end. Despite the 'tenderness' of Rivers' methods, both he and Yealland function as cogs in a war machine; both are tasked with returning empty souls to the battlefield. Thus, Barker suggests that within the internalised panopticon of Craiglockhart, the process of recovery is not one of healing, but rather the restoration of an individual's capacity for 'unquestioning allegiance.'
VCE · Text Response
Text Response: In Regeneration, Barker suggests that the…
VCE Text Response essay scoring 97.5%: In the context of the Great War, 'healing' was less a medical necessity than a state-sanctioned strategy to…
In the context of the Great War, 'healing' was less a medical necessity than a state-sanctioned strategy to return soldiers to the battlefield. In Pat Barker's 1991 historical novel Regeneration, set in 1917, Barker interrogates the ethical cost of this medical compliance, suggesting that recovery demands a rigid adherence to a strict masculine normative. While she portrays the rejection of humane treatment as a tool of the state, she ultimately suggests that even partial disobedience can serve as a powerful act of protest against these internalised institutional expectations.
Barker exposes the ethical dissonance inherent in returning psychologically fractured men to the front, illustrating how the doctor's duty to 'heal' is subordinated by the state's demand for combat-ready bodies. The medical profession traditionally prioritises the sanctity of life. Barker, however, highlights the insidious nature of wartime psychiatry — where the act of 'mending' is merely a prelude to a soldier's return to a 'positively suicidal' fate. Ultimately, Barker uses Rivers' realisation that his 'scales were heavily weighted in favour of the state' to critique a system where medical compliance becomes a tool of institutional betrayal. This critique is underscored through the stark juxtaposition of Dr Yealland's brutal methods, which lead Rivers to question whether his own 'gentle' approach is, in fact, more insidious for achieving the same dehumanising end. Despite the 'tenderness' of Rivers' methods, both he and Yealland function as cogs in a war machine. Both are tasked with returning empty souls to the battlefield. Thus, Barker suggests that within the internalised panopticon of Craiglockhart, the process of recovery is not one of healing, but rather the restoration of an individual's capacity for 'unquestioning allegiance.'
VCE · Text Response
Text Response: How does Pat Barker compel her readers to…
VCE Text Response essay scoring 82.5%: Additionally, Barker challenges the readers to recognise the extent of the war's influence by illustrating how…
Additionally, Barker challenges the readers to recognise the extent of the war's influence by illustrating how the civilian society is regulated and controlled to perpetuate the war's continuance. She presents the primary instrument of control as faith, by framing the war's slaughter within the frameworks of religious tradition. While observing a church service, Rivers' acknowledgement that "God moves in mysterious ways" as the "nations favourite hymn after the Somme", promotes the idea that suffering and sacrifices of death is required by the divinity, hence beyond questioning. Furthermore, through River's critical analysis, Barker portrays the "Abraham's sacrifice of his son" and Christ's crucifixion as the "two bloody bargains" which all "patriarchal societies are based on". This justifies the fundamental horrors of the war, where the "young and strong are required to offer total obedience to the old and weak", as outlined in River's explanation. By doing so, Barker
VCE · Text Response
Text Response: 2. "I can't help it when people are…
VCE Text Response essay scoring 87.5%: Revolting against radical, patriarchal, social movements in 1950s America, Shirley Jacksons explores the vehicle…
Revolting against radical, patriarchal, social movements in 1950s America, Shirley Jacksons explores the vehicle of control and power in the gothic novel 'We Have Always lived in the castle;' as a tool of oppression and agency. Condemning the hostility and domineering Jackson exposes the worst in society and how they use control to oppress others that don't conform to societal expectations. Merricat illustrates the assertion of lost agency by reclaiming power and using it as a weapon to frighten and cause irreversible damage evidently to those who condemn and attempt to control her. Merricat's lack of remorse and human emotions also establish that power, as she has no limits to her actions. Furthermore, Cousin Charles represents the cult of personality men held within the 1950s, viewing himself superior and asserting dominance over the Blackwood house which he believed was owed to him as a man, yet he held ulterior motives of seeking power through the greed of wealth and financial gain. Jackson also underscores the power possessed with the townspeople, through isolating and condemning the Blackwoods; forcing them into the refuge of isolation, due to the hostility and rampaging nature of the town. Overall, Jackson establishes the different roles and structures of power within the novel as a tool to reclaim agency, and oppress others that don't fit into the confined societal structures and expectations.
VCE · Creative Response
Creative Response: personal jouneys
VCE Creative Response essay scoring 65%: I didn’t want to move schools. When my parents first told me, I thought they were joking. It didn’t feel like…
I didn’t want to move schools.
When my parents first told me, I thought they were joking. It didn’t feel like something that should just be decided like that. “We’re not moving that far,” my mum said. “It’s just a different school.” I didn’t understand how that made it better. “Why can’t I just stay?” I asked. My dad paused before answering. “It’ll be better for you. You’ll see.” I didn’t argue after that, but I didn’t agree either.
I had been at my old school for years. I knew where everything was, who everyone was, and how everything worked. I didn’t have to think about it. I just fit. Starting somewhere new felt like losing that without getting anything back.
On my last day, everyone kept saying the same things. “You’ll be fine.” “It’s not a big deal.” “You’ll make new friends.” I nodded every time, even though none of it helped. It made it sound easy, like there was nothing to worry about. But I wasn’t worried about meeting people. I was worried about not knowing who I was without everything I was used to.
The first day at my new school felt exactly like that.
Everything was unfamiliar. The buildings, the classrooms, even the way people moved through the space like they already knew where they were going. I walked around with my timetable in my hand, checking it more than I needed to, just so I had something to focus on. In my first class, the teacher smiled and said, “You must be new.” I nodded. “Yeah.” She gestured to the room. “Take a seat anywhere.” I stood there for a second before choosing a desk near the back. Anywhere didn’t really feel like anywhere. It felt like being noticed for the wrong reason.
At lunch, I didn’t know where to go. I walked around longer than I needed to, then sat on a bench by myself. I took my phone out, even though there was nothing to check, just so it looked like I had something to do. Everyone else seemed settled, like they already had their place. I realised then that belonging isn’t something you think about until you don’t have it.
The next few days were the same. I went to class, did my work, and went home. No one was unkind, but no one really spoke to me either. I kept comparing everything to my old school without meaning to. It made this one feel even more unfamiliar.
One afternoon, my mum asked, “How’s the new school going?” I said, “It’s fine,” without thinking. She looked at me for a second. “Just fine?” I hesitated, then said, “I don’t really know anyone.” She nodded. “You will. It just takes time.” I didn’t like that answer. Time felt like something I had to wait through, not something that would actually change anything.
VCE · Creative Response
Creative Response: personal jouneys
VCE Creative Response essay scoring 65%: I didn’t want to move schools. When my parents first told me, I thought they were joking. It came out of…
I didn’t want to move schools. When my parents first told me, I thought they were joking. It came out of nowhere, like a decision that had already been made without me. “We’re not moving that far,” my mum said. “It’s just a different school.” I didn’t understand how that made it better. “Why can’t I just stay?” I asked. My dad looked at me for a second before answering. “It’ll be better for you. You’ll see.” I didn’t see it. I had been at my old school for years. I knew where everything was, who everyone was, and how everything worked. I had my group, my routine, my place. Starting somewhere new felt like losing all of that at once.
On my last day, everyone kept saying the same thing. “You’ll be fine.” “It’s not a big deal.” “You’ll make new friends.” I nodded every time, but it didn’t make me feel better. It just made me feel like I was overreacting. I didn’t want new friends. I didn’t want a new routine. I just wanted things to stay the same.
The first day at my new school was worse than I expected. Everything felt unfamiliar. The buildings looked different, the classrooms were laid out in ways that didn’t make sense to me, and even the noise felt different. I walked around with my timetable in my hand, checking it every few seconds so I didn’t go to the wrong place. In my first class, the teacher smiled and said, “You must be new.” I nodded. “Yeah.” She pointed to the room. “Alright, take a seat anywhere.” That was the problem. Anywhere meant choosing, and choosing meant people noticing. I hesitated for a moment before sitting at an empty table near the back. No one said anything to me.
At lunch, I didn’t know where to go. I walked around for a bit, pretending I had somewhere to be, before sitting down at a bench by myself. I took my phone out just to look busy, even though there was nothing to check. It felt like everyone already belonged somewhere, like they had their own groups and routines, and I was just outside of all of it. The next few days followed the same pattern. I went to class, did my work, and went home. No one was rude, but no one really spoke to me either. I started thinking about my old school more than I wanted to, remembering how easy everything felt there.
One afternoon, my mum asked, “How’s the new school going?” I didn’t really think before answering. “It’s fine.” She looked at me for a second. “Just fine?” I hesitated, then said, “I don’t really know anyone.” She nodded like she expected that. “You will. It just takes time.” I didn’t want it to take time. I wanted it to be easy, like before.
VCE · Text Response
Text Response: The novel argues that true regeneration is…
VCE Text Response essay scoring 70%: In her anti-war novel Regeneration, Pat Barker contends that the experience of the trenches fundamentally destroys…
In her anti-war novel Regeneration, Pat Barker contends that the experience of the trenches fundamentally destroys any possibility for true regeneration. Through illustrating the brutal realities of warfare, Barker reveals the depth of physical and psychological harm. The profound harms are framed as lifelong through Barker’s exploration of the ineffectiveness of psychotherapeutic healing. This is amplified by her depiction of early 20th century British society as one hell-bent on internally-damaging ostracisation.
By illustrating the brutal harm inflicted by warfare on combatants, Barker portrays the trauma imbued upon them as profound. Barker’s presentation of the trenches as akin to ‘Armageddon’ and ‘Golgotha’ serves as the basis for her discussion on its impact on combatants, encapsulating the ‘place of desolation’ and reinforcing the idea of its power to create profoundly damaging experiences. War leaves neither the physical nor the mental unscathed, with the use of bodies and wounds as a motif emphasising this. Their recurrence symbolises both physical destruction by an institution built to inflict harm, as well as their embeddedness in one’s psyche. Barker uses dehumanising language to describe the wounded, such as ‘creatures’, ‘figure’, and ‘deformed pseudo-dwarf’, a lexical decision emphasising the depth of their injuries to mirror the dehumanising nature of their trauma. Barker utilises sardonic humour in her description of bodies, such as ‘gob-stopper’, implying their desensitising prevalence in the trenches. Nonetheless, they have a parasitic psychological effect, with Prior’s internal repetition of ‘gob-stopper’ a constant reminder of graphic imagery encountered in the trenches. Throughout the novel, the mental and physical aftermath of war remains intertwined, emphasising Barker’s portrayal of war as an institution that destroys all aspects of oneself. Burns’s physical wastage is a product of his trauma leaving him unable to eat, turning him into a ‘scarecrow’, demonstrating the physical destruction experienced by the character in response to his trauma. The ‘totally blank stare’ of the wounded witnessed by Prior, as well as the ‘sombre and malevolent’ face of the injured seen by Rivers, are representatives of the opposite, where physical destruction leads to hopelessness and mental collapse. Through exploring the interplay between the physical and mental destruction of war, Barker presents the nature of wartime experiences as total and all-consuming to the individual. In Regeneration, the trenches are portrayed as synthesisers of deeply destructive experiences, leading to profound effects to the entire being.
VCE · Creative Response
Creative Response: “Home is where we return to, wherever…
VCE Creative Response essay scoring 92.5%: Elsewhere “Home is where we return to, wherever we are and wherever we’ve been.” My feet moved forward…
Elsewhere
“Home is where we return to, wherever we are and wherever we’ve been.”
My feet moved forward without me, each step heavy as if the ground had stopped recognising who I was. I drifted past rows of numbered seats, each one pulling me further into a reality I wasn’t ready to accept. My chest tightened—not in panic, but in something quieter, heavier, like understanding arriving too late.
What I had once imagined with excitement now stood in front of me, solid and irreversible.
We had crossed oceans to end up here. I couldn’t understand why we had been uprooted, pulled from everything familiar and placed into this sunlit foreignness. Around me, my siblings glowed with ease. They posed, laughed, leaned into each other as my mother captured moments that already felt like they belonged to someone else’s life.
Something in me recoiled. I didn’t know where to place myself in any of it.
Outside, I braced for cold air that never came. Heat rushed in instead, pressing against my skin, drying through my hair, uninvited and certain. I missed the sharpness of winter mornings—the sting in my fingers, the silence of frost, the way the world felt slower when it was cold enough to notice it.
This place didn’t slow down.
It didn’t wait.
It just continued.
A little further on, I saw him.
He stood with his arms open as if he had been waiting long before we arrived. It felt like years since I had last properly seen him—the stubble he called a beard, the light reflecting off his bare head, and those familiar honey-coloured eyes that always made everything feel temporarily safe.
Before I could think, I was already moving.
My body broke into a run, faster than thought, faster than hesitation, until I collided into him. His arms closed around me—steady, warm, anchoring. For a moment, everything else dissolved.
No airport. No unknown country. No pressure of becoming someone new.
Just him.
Just something that felt like it still belonged to me.
But even that moment didn’t last.
VCE · Creative Response
Creative Response: “Home is where we return to, wherever…
VCE Creative Response essay scoring 92.5%: Elsewhere “Home is where we return to, wherever we are and wherever we’ve been.” My feet dragged forward with…
Elsewhere
“Home is where we return to, wherever we are and wherever we’ve been.”
My feet dragged forward with each step, unresponsive, as though the ground beneath me no longer recognised where I belonged. I stumbled past the numbered seats, each one grounding me further into a reality I wasn’t ready for. My chest tightened with a quiet unfamiliar dread. What was once a dream had now morphed into a reality.
Why we had to pick up our lives and situate ourselves in this foreign land puzzled me. I looked up to see my siblings, with faces full of light, posing and smiling ear to ear as my mother took photographs of them. Anxiety spiralled through my mind, leaving me to ruminate on what my life would become.
As I stepped out, unaccustomed to the weather, I braced for a cold breeze. Instead, a rush of heat met me, the wind drying through my hair as it passed. I missed the sting of frosted fingers, numb toes, and quiet, chilly mornings.
It was different. I was in a different place.
As I looked further, I saw a man grinning, holding his hands out and radiating joy. It felt like years since I had seen the stubble that he called a beard, the light that bounced off his bald head and the kind honey eyes that assured you “that no one could take anything from you unless you let them”. Before I could even think about it, I was already moving. My feet lifted off the ground running and racing to climb into his arms. His embrace was warm, warmer than the sun that had hit me before.
For a second, the world faded. I wasn't in an airport surrounded by unrecognizable land; my worries were laid to rest, and my mind was at peace with something steady, something known, my father.
VCE · Creative Response
Creative Response: “Home is where we return to, wherever…
VCE Creative Response essay scoring 90%: Elsewhere “Home is where we return to, wherever we are and wherever we’ve been.” My feet dragged forward with…
Elsewhere
“Home is where we return to, wherever we are and wherever we’ve been.”
My feet dragged forward with each step, unresponsive, as though the ground beneath me no longer recognised where I belonged. I stumbled past the numbered seats, each one grounding me further into a reality I wasn’t ready for. My chest tightened with a quiet unfamiliar dread. What was once a dream had now morphed into a reality.
Why we had to pick up our lives and situate ourselves in this foreign land, puzzled me. I looked up to see my siblings, with faces full of light, posing and smiling ear to ear as my mother took photographs of them. Anxiety spiralled through my mind, leaving me to ruminate on what my life would become.
As I stepped out, unaccustomed to the weather, I braced for a cold breeze. Instead, a rush of heat met me, the wind drying through my hair as it passed. I missed the sting of frosted fingers, numb toes, and quiet, chilly mornings.
It was different. I was in a different place.
As I looked further, I saw a man grinning, holding his hands out and radiating joy. It felt like years since I had seen the stubble that he called a beard, the light that bounced off his bald head and the kind honey eyes that assured you “that no one could take anything from you unless you let them”. Before I could even think about it, I was already moving. My feet lifted off the ground running and racing to climb into his arms. His embrace was warm, warmer than the sun that had hit me before.
For a second, the world faded. I wasn't in an airport surrounded by unrecognizable land; my worries were laid to rest, and my mind was at peace with something steady, something known, my father.
VCE · Creative Response
Creative Response: Title: Rewriting the Script Stimulus…
VCE Creative Response essay scoring 82.5%: Title: Rewriting the Script You’re sitting in front of a varnished table. The harshness from the costly…
Title: Rewriting the Script
You’re sitting in front of a varnished table. The harshness from the costly thirty-two inch monitor your parents invested in stings your eyes, the dull paper of a mathematics practice exam in front of you. You are ready, itching to ink “100%” in bright red on the cover. Before you begin you dim your monitor until your timer is still visible but the light no longer attacks you. Before you begin you remember you need to send an email to your teacher about a particular question. You check all your emails, you may as well while you’re there. You decide to warm up your brain with a game of chess. Then, the entire roster of word games from the New York Times. Oh, you suddenly feel a rush of inspiration fill you, and it demands to be written down immediately. Should you learn how to draw?
The urges come and go, cycling in your head like seasons, and before you begin you forget that you were going to begin. The paper is still there, mocking you. You promise yourself you will do it tomorrow and to you that’s good enough, because at some point it’d be done. It’s written in the script to be done.
You’re in the gym now, and you swivel your head. The scratching of graphite from the kid to your left reverberates in your ear. He seems furious, driven, the marks of his 2B pencil black like tar. To your right, a girl, relaxed but her pencil never leaves the page and her eyes flick on each purposeful letter she writes. Silence draws you back down. Your palms are sweaty, fingers trembling, wholly uncertain about the question in front of you. But now you push, your gaze laser focused. Everything else slides into the background until the clock hits zero and the invigilators’ command to “Drop your pencils,” scatters the silence like patterns of sand washed away by waves.
You close the test, breath wavering knowing three questions are blank and not knowing how many you full-marked. A hand grabs the paper, leaving emptiness in front of you.
You probably should have done that practice exam.
You swallow and leave. Tears beg to fall like raindrops, like the ones pattering against your window as you binge 200 chapters of your new favourite novel. Something needs to change, but you don’t know what's wrong with you.
Maybe nothing is.
Maybe this is who you are.
Did you remember to send that email?
VCE · Creative Response
Creative Response: “Home is where we return to, wherever…
VCE Creative Response essay scoring 80%: Elsewhere “Home is where we return to, wherever we are and wherever we’ve been.” My feet dragged forward with…
Elsewhere
“Home is where we return to, wherever we are and wherever we’ve been.”
My feet dragged forward with each step, unresponsive, as though the ground beneath me no longer recognised where I belonged. I stumbled past the numbered seats, each one grounding me further into a reality I wasn’t ready for. My chest tightened with a quiet unfamiliar dread. What was once a dream had now morphed into a reality.
Why we had to pick up our lives and situate ourselves in this foreign land, puzzled me. I looked up to see my siblings, with faces full of light, posing and smiling ear to ear as my mother took photographs of them. Anxiety spiralled through my mind, leaving me to ruminate on what my life would become.
As I stepped out, the heat slapped me, sizzling, and the hot wind dried my hair. Unaccustomed, I missed the feeling of frosted fingers, numb toes and chilly mornings.
It was different, I was in a different place.
As I looked further, I saw a man grinning, holding his hands out and radiating joy. It felt like years since I had seen the stubble that he called a beard, the light that bounced off his bald head and the kind honey eyes that assured you “that no one could take anything from you unless you let them”. Before I could even think about it, I was already moving. My feet lifted off the ground running and racing to climb into his arms. His embrace was warm, warmer than the sun that had hit me before.
For a second, the world faded. I wasn't in an airport surrounded by unrecognizable land; my worries were laid to rest, and my mind was at peace with something steady, something known, my father.
VCE · Creative Response
Creative Response: “Home is where we return to, wherever…
VCE Creative Response essay scoring 77.5%: Elsewhere My feet dragged forward with each step, unresponsive, as though the ground beneath me no longer…
Elsewhere
My feet dragged forward with each step, unresponsive, as though the ground beneath me no longer recognised where I belonged. I stumbled past the numbered seats, each one grounding me further into a reality I wasn’t ready for. My chest tightened with a quiet unfamiliar dread. What was once a dream had now morphed into a reality.
Why we had to pick up our lives and situate ourselves in this foreign land “down under” puzzled me. I looked up to see my siblings, with faces full of light, posing and smiling ear to ear as my mother took photographs of them. Anxiety spiralled through my mind, leaving me to ruminate on what my life would become.
As I stepped out, the heat slapped me, sizzling, and the hot wind rushed through my hair as if I were in a desert. Unaccustomed, I missed the feeling of frosted fingers, numb toes and chilly mornings.
It was different, I was in a different place.
As I looked further, I saw a man grinning, holding his hands out and radiating joy. It felt like years since I had seen the stubble that he called a beard, the light that bounced off his bald head and the kind honey eyes that assured you “that no one could take anything from you unless you let them”. Before I could even think about it, I was already moving. My feet lifted off the ground running and racing to climb into his arms. His embrace was warm, warmer than the sun that had hit me before.
For a second, the world faded. I wasn't in an airport surrounded by unrecognizable land; my worries were laid to rest, and my mind was at peace with something steady, something known, my father.
VCE · Creative Response
Creative Response: “Home is where we return to, wherever…
VCE Creative Response essay scoring 77.5%: Elsewhere “Home is where we return to, wherever we are and wherever we’ve been.” My feet felt heavier with…
Elsewhere
“Home is where we return to, wherever we are and wherever we’ve been.”
My feet felt heavier with each step, as if fear had settled into them. I stumbled past the numbered seats, each one grounding me further into a reality I wasn’t ready for. My chest tightened with a quiet unfamiliar dread. What was once a dream had now morphed into a reality.
Why we had to pick up our lives and situate ourselves in this foreign land “down under” puzzled me. I looked up to see my siblings, with faces full of light, posing and smiling ear to ear as my mother took photographs of them. Anxiety spiralled through my mind, leaving me to ruminate on what my life would become.
As I stepped out, the heat slapped me, sizzling, and the hot wind rushed through my hair as if I were in a desert. Unaccustomed, I missed the feeling of frosted fingers, numb toes and chilly mornings.
It was different, I was in a different place.
As I looked further, I saw a man grinning, holding his hands out and radiating joy. It felt like years since I had seen the stubble that he called a beard, the light that bounced off his bald head and the kind honey eyes that assured you “that no one could take anything from you unless you let them”. Before I could even think about it, I was already moving. My feet lifted off the ground running and racing to climb into his arms. His embrace was warm, warmer than the sun that had hit me before.
For a second, the world faded. I wasn't in an airport surrounded by unrecognizable land; my worries were laid to rest, and my mind was at peace with something steady, something known, my father.
VCE · Creative Response
Creative Response: Theme: Play Title: The time of our…
VCE Creative Response essay scoring 90%: Eyes on the conductor. Lips pressed against the mouthpiece. He raises his hands, signalling to the ensemble…
Eyes on the conductor. Lips pressed against the mouthpiece. He raises his hands, signalling to the ensemble that play was imminent. Up. The moment, although it must have only been a second or two, stretches on eternally. Down. Time warps to 128 bpm, the speed of the piece “A Night in Tunisia”. First the piano, then the trombones, then the cello and finally my fellow trumpeters and I join the cacophony. We play, barreling toward the grotesque, nightmarish and feared numeral … bar 28. My solo. Time takes no heed of my terror and continues rushing toward that bar of despair. Like that, it is upon us.
I rise and begin to play. Staccato. Characterised by quick short notes. Rising higher. Louder. Quick Fingers. Reaching Peak. The tension is released with a decrescendo, the brief quavers are replaced with long minims and semi-breves. Legato. Each long note is carried to the extremities of the ornate theatre, bathing the audience in the rich, resonant, brass sound. Although slower, this section requires much greater focus, every phrase must be meticulously placed and- there, an unavoidable break in the monotony of the music stave miraculously materializes, annotations, Mark’s annotations.
VCE · Creative Response
Creative Response: Theme: Play Title: The time of our…
VCE Creative Response essay scoring 90%: Eyes on the conductor. Lips pressed against the mouthpiece. He raises his hands, signalling to the ensemble…
Eyes on the conductor. Lips pressed against the mouthpiece. He raises his hands, signalling to the ensemble that play was imminent. Up. The moment, although it must have only been a second or two, stretches on eternally. Down. Time warps to 128 bpm, the speed of the piece “A Night in Tunisia”. First the piano, then the trombones, then the cello and finally my fellow trumpeters and I join the cacophony. We play, barreling toward the grotesque, nightmarish and feared numeral … bar 28. My solo. Time takes no heed of my terror and continues rushing toward that bar of despair. Like that, it is upon us.
I rise and begin to play. Staccato. Characterised by quick short notes. Rising higher. Louder. Quick Fingers. Reaching Peak. The tension is released with a decrescendo, the brief quavers are replaced with long minims and semi-breves. Legato. Each long note is carried to the extremities of the ornate theatre, bathing the audience in the rich, resonant, brass sound. Although slower, this section requires much greater focus, every phrase must be meticulously placed and- there, an unavoidable break in the monotony of the music stave miraculously materializes, annotations, Mark’s annotations.