VCE · Creative Response
Creative Response: Title: life is a game Stimulus: we are…
VCE Creative Response essay scoring 97.5%: Life is a Game Press play to start [play] The vivid pixels on the screen illuminate as I press play on my…
Life is a Game
Press play to start
[play]
The vivid pixels on the screen illuminate as I press play on my gaming console. I am entering my safe zone, the world of Minecraft, where I am truly free, and truly myself. No stress here. No due dates, and no Truman Burbank smiling on cue for a director he never knew existed. In this game I submerse myself; there is no façade. There is no audience mocking my every action, just the NPC (Non-Playable Character) villagers who wander this blocky world. My actions are free and my cortisol levels at an all-time low. I build kingdoms unconstrained by regulation. I sail seas and battle monsters unthreatened by consequences. I am not performing life, but rather living it. To press play on the game is to press pause on everything else.
[pause game]
VCE · Creative Response
Creative Response: Title: life is a game Stimulus: we are…
VCE Creative Response essay scoring 95%: Life is a Game Press play to start [play] The vivid pixels on the screen illuminate as I press play on my…
Life is a Game
Press play to start
[play]
The vivid pixels on the screen illuminate as I press play on my gaming console. I am entering my safe zone, the world of Minecraft, where I am truly free, and truly myself. No stress here. No due dates, and no Truman Burbank smiling on cue for a director he never knew existed. In this game I submerse myself; there is no façade. There is no audience mocking my every action, just the NPC (Non-Playable Character) villagers who wander this blocky world. My actions are free and my cortisol levels at an all-time low. I build kingdoms unconstrained by regulation. I sail seas and battle monsters unthreatened by consequences. I am not performing life, but rather living it. To press play on the game is to press pause on everything else.
[pause game]
VCE · Creative Response
Creative Response: personal journeys
VCE Creative Response essay scoring 67.5%: The bell doesn’t ring the same. [personal reflective essay published in The Age Weekend Magazine by a recent…
The bell doesn’t ring the same.
[personal reflective essay published in The Age Weekend Magazine by a recent Year 12 graduate transitioning into university life]
The bell doesn’t ring the same. It still echoes through the corridors, sharp and familiar, yet something about it feels misaligned – like it has lost its sense of purpose now that there’s nothing left to count down to.
The classroom feels louder than usual. Chairs scraping, pens tapping, someone laughing too hard at something that isn’t even funny. I try to take it all in - the sharp scent of whiteboard markers, sunlight stretching lazily across the desks, and the rough edges pressing beneath my hands.
I ask myself to remember it, because this is it.
It all feels clearer now. Like I’m seeing everything from a higher place than before. It should feel like I’ve made it. Like I’ve climbed something and finally reached the top…
Yet it only feels like the first peak I’ve actually noticed. There’s more ahead, higher ones, lingering quietly in the distance. Peaks I haven’t seen yet, but already feel expected to reach.
Someone says, "Last class ever", and it lands heavier than I expected. I thought I’d feel relieved.
Free.
But no one really talks about how freedom can feel like being unheld, as if there’s nothing left to push against - nothing shaping me anymore. Instead it feels like standing at the highest point… and realising I don’t know how to come down from it.
The final bell rings, no one moves straight away.
S i l e n c e.
I linger at the doorway, looking back at empty chairs, the half-clean whiteboard, the life I got used to. As I step out, the lights switch off all at once.
Not like an ending. More like something being put away gently, like a book at the end of a chapter.
Somewhere between then and next
No one talks about this part, the in-between.
The days blur together. Late mornings, quiet afternoons, the light sitting too still against the walls. No voices, no movement, just time passing. I keep waiting for something to begin, but it doesn’t.
It isn't peaceful. It’s the absence of movement, like coming down from something
No clear direction…
No clear next step to hold onto…
Just movement.
Like running downhill too fast, your body leaning forward before you decide it. At first it feels freeing, until you realise you’re out of control, and stopping isn’t as easy as it sounds.
VCE · Creative Response
Creative Response: Are the pieces supposed to be about…
VCE Creative Response essay scoring 87.5%: For me K-Pop music has been a source of healing and strength. I know that this would be true for many fans…
For me K-Pop music has been a source of healing and strength. I know that this would be true for many fans who feel the same. Unlike other genres of music, the world of K-Pop has driven itself on this idea of connection and how it can foster into a global community that transcends borders, languages and cultures.
So I'm sure it came as a shock to everyone when HYBE released the statement on March 10th. The former K-Pop idol and member of Enhypen, Heeseung, would be departing the group to pursue solo activities, while still being under the label.
In the statement HYBE expressed that Heeseung’s departure was made due to his future aspirations not aligning with the group’s and that he had his own distinct musical vision.
VCE · Creative Response
Creative Response: Title: life is a game Stimulus: we are…
VCE Creative Response essay scoring 90%: Life is a Game Press play to start [play] The vivid pixels on the screen illuminate as I press play on my…
Life is a Game
Press play to start
[play]
The vivid pixels on the screen illuminate as I press play on my gaming console. I am entering my safe zone, the world of Minecraft, where I am truly free, and truly myself. No stress here. No due dates, and no Truman Burbank smiling on cue for a director he never knew existed. In this game I submerse myself; there is no façade. There is no audience mocking my every action, just the NPC (Non-Playable Character) villagers who wander this blocky world. My actions are free and my cortisol levels at an all-time low. I build kingdoms unconstrained by regulation. I sail seas and battle monsters unthreatened by consequences. I am not performing life, but rather living it. To press play on the game is to press pause on everything else.
[pause game]
The screen goes dark as my game pauses. Reality resumes its uninvited broadcast. My English essay is tomorrow. I must discuss Truman Burbank: his manufactured existence, his gradual awakening, and his desperate bid for something real. The irony is not lost on me. Truman lived thirty years inside a performance he never auditioned for, his every move choreographed for an audience he didn’t know existed, his entire identity constructed by Christof before he could construct one himself. And yet, the education system I play along with has done precisely the same thing to me. A 90 ATAR. The right prerequisites. Four years of lectures I will endure rather than enjoy, feeding into a career chosen not by passion but by the quiet terror of choosing wrong. My dreams, ones that felt real when I was young enough to play without apology, have been slowly, administratively, edited out. In their place lie a junior partnership at a prestigious law firm, a résumé dressed in accolades, and a mental framework built entirely for an audience I never auditioned for. Truman performed for Christof. I perform for a rubric. The difference, I am beginning to suspect, is mostly cosmetic. Life is not a game; it is a bittersweet asylum and a perpetual cycle of self-doubt, introspection and regret. When play is taken from us, we grow away from ourselves. One compromise at a time, until the person staring back in the mirror is a stranger wearing our face.
[resume game]
VCE · Creative Response
Creative Response: Escape- theme country
VCE Creative Response essay scoring 67.5%: Amelie-B Framework 1: Writing about country - Write a text that explores ideas about country - You must use…
Amelie-B
Framework 1: Writing about country
- Write a text that explores ideas about country
- You must use the title provided
- You must use at least one of the stimuli
Title: 'Escape'
Stimulus 1
'Not all those who wander are lost.'
- JRR Tolkien
Stimulus 2
women are in the box
Stimulus 3
'I am sitting in my dingy little office where a stingy
Ray of sunlight struggled feebly down between the houses tall;
And the foetid air and gritty of the dusty dirty city
Through the open window falling spread its foulness over all.'
- Banjo Patterson
Amelie-B
Framework 1: Writing about country
* Write a text that explores ideas about country
* You must use the title provided
* You must use at least one of the stimuli
Title: 'Escape'
Stimulus 1
'Not all those who wander are lost.'
- JRR Tolkien
Stimulus 2
women are in the box
Stimulus 3
'I am sitting in my dingy little office where a stingy
Ray of sunlight struggled feebly down between the houses tall;
And the foetid air and gritty of the dusty dirty city
Through the open window falling spread its foulness over all.'
- Banjo Patterson
Escape
Dear young women and men of society who is struggling to find an equal place in society. My name is Janet Carter and I am a women. Today, I would like to address something I belive can be regonised and adressed across society, the experience of young women, at the hands of some of you. Women quite frankly do not have a place, whether intentionally or not. Sacrilege, suffering, sacrifice. Is that the reality of womens lives - or are you refuse to confront? for women in 2026 country cannot be considered a landscape, it is a permission. It is a territory of the mind that is being colonized by a global, creeping regression. So join me in advocating for the rights of women, to create a society where equality is no longer a lie. Where is the light of girls who haven't yet learned to be small?
I have been told "you play like a girl". It was a jagged sentence, designed as a malevolent muzzle, a verbal line I was never meant to cross. They wanted my strength to be a costume and my speed to be an accident. But I felt the global echo of that restriction, the same systematic shushing that dictates the lives of women oversea, However I chose to burn that man made script. I chose the iron taste of breath in my throat, and the rythmic heavy thud of a heart that refuses to be quiet. If playing like a girl is a transgression, then let me be the riot. This is why it is important that we act now! The new generation will not be subjected to this retoric.
VCE · Creative Response
Creative Response: Title: Finding The Way Stimulus: An…
VCE Creative Response essay scoring 72.5%: Finding the way North The little girl stumbled over her own feet, dragging her father along as butter and…
Finding the way
North
The little girl stumbled over her own feet, dragging her father along as butter and sugar filled her senses. Her legs still shaking in anticipation as she sunk into the red cushioned seats of the theatre. The silence was deafening as the movie flashed across the screen.
Frozen 2
The little girl nearly squelled out in excitement as though she’s been waiting for this her whole life. eyes wide, ears perked, eagerly absorbing every score.
‘Some things never change’, ‘into the unknown’.
The vibrant colours of Elsa and her kingdom stained on the little girl’s eyes. She never wanted it to end.
The car ride home was filled with the little girl’s dreams and plans. to be a princess, to speak to nature, to wear pretty dresses all the time.
Her father, following the directions on the map, nodded slightly, not wanting to interrupt what was brewing in the mind of his imaginative daughter.
South
The young woman grabbed tightly onto the shirt of her father, black cap slipping off. The contrast of her gown and his tropical shirt tugged at the heart of the woman, hinting towards the decision she had been putting off.
The ceremony was like every other. graduates shifting in their seats, parents weeping for their children, and a teacher who never stops talking.
Courage. Bravery. Taking the next step in the journey. The speech resurfaced any anxiety about which path to choose.
The young woman’s mind scrambled to find the way in which she was meant to go.
University?
Travel?
Full-time work?
There was no printed blueprint she could follow, she had to make her own.
West.
blankly staring at her computer, the young woman was frozen in fear. the biggest decision of her life, all up to her.
VCE · Creative Response
Creative Response: Tittle: 'moving forward' Prompt: I…
VCE Creative Response essay scoring 75%: I thought this moment would feel different. Instead, it felt ordinary. I felt ordinary. The scoreboard…
I thought this moment would feel different.
Instead, it felt ordinary.
I felt ordinary.
The scoreboard flickered in the background, as the sun set slowly across the horizon. The pitch was dusty and cracked like the depths of the Sahara Desert. This was the same ground we had played consistently throughout the season. It was our home ground. We hadn’t lost a game here all season. Nothing had changed... Yet everything was different. This time we were on the brink of defeat. In these last moments the crowd had hushed, and a hint of adrenaline rushed through my body.
And then...
The world Halted to silence and a depth of emptiness spread across the ground. For a few seconds... Nobody moved... Nobody talked... But then it all came crashing down.
The opposition gathered in celebration, their voices full of joy, laughter and excitement, whilst we stood in silence staring at the cracks that enveloped the pitch. ‘Thud’... ‘Thud’... My heart was falling out of my chest, my breath hitched and a cold rush of wind felt like ice across my skin. I couldn’t keep up. My breath heavy, my feet grounded. That ordinary feeling Shattered. In the bottom of my heart, I couldn’t get over this. I couldn’t help but think, what have we done? Was this all worth it? The season had just come to an end, and we didn’t win.
Who are we if not winners?
And what is living if not winning?
Can we smile in the face of loss?
It wasn’t just another loss. It was the end. How could I move forward?
This feeling; I couldn’t grasp it.
This wasn’t the first time; we had competed against the opposition once before but at their home ground. That previous game, we walked in with our heads up, full of confidence from our unbroken win streak.
So, we couldn’t possibly lose (I had thought)
Yet before we could think, it had begun collapsing; the confidence, the hope, the vision. Our captain had been caught early to an unlucky dismissal, but we still had the rest of the team (I hoped)
but no...
The wickets fell in a sudden chain reaction. We couldn’t do anything. In the end we were all out for 115 runs. It wasn’t bad, we still had a chance. Our confidence had dropped but the idea of victory was still in our minds.
And then... Came all the mistakes.
A dropped catch.
A misfield.
An overthrow.
A boundary we should have not conceded.
Slowly, the game slipped from our hands.
VCE · Text Response
Text Response: Oedipus the King reveals how finding out…
VCE Text Response essay scoring 72.5%: Originally performed in the fledgling democracy of ancient Athens, Sophocles’ Greek tragedy ‘Oedipus the King’…
Originally performed in the fledgling democracy of ancient Athens, Sophocles’ Greek tragedy ‘Oedipus the King’ explores the tensions between human intellect and the omnipotence of the gods. As the truth reveals itself, Sophocles presents the manner in a harsh yet painful turn of events overall contending how the revelation of the truth is necessary in order to suffice the needs of humanity. Sophocles initially highlights how ignorance of the truth is dangerous as individuals are bound to suffer. As such, Sophocles suggests the truth should be revealed as one's pre-ordained fate cannot be challenged. Although ignoring the truth may be painful, Sophocles reaffirms how the acceptance and pursuit of truth is necessary in order for society to thrive.
Sophocles initially highlights how ignorance of the truth is dangerous as individuals are bound to suffer. Oedipus is initially presented as irrationally ignorant of the truth “order[ing] him to reveal the whole truth to [Oedipus]”, signifying irony through his self-blindness. Although regarded as the “saviour” and the man who can lift the “curse [himself]”, Oedipus seeks for the truth in a hope to lift the curse from Thebes and “grant [their] prayers”. Sophocles overall presents Oedipus as a noble king, with a positive view of Oedipus held by the people of Athens, however disregards and ignores the direct warnings of the prophet Tiresias. As each revelation draws Oedipus closer to the truth, it simultaneously tightens the noose of prophecy he seeks to escape. Tiresias desperately suggests the pursuit of truth “is only pain to him who sees”. In this way, Sophocles attempts to transform the pursuit of knowledge as a double edged force: the brighter Oedipus’ insight burns, the more merciless it illuminates the ruin awaiting him, exposing human reason as blinding yet tragically insufficient. Warned “this day will bring your birth and destruction” did not phase Oedipus', however only invited him to inquire and seek the truth. Thus, the playwright suggests it is human nature to pursue the truth in order to fulfil a sense of fear and self-preservation. As such, in the midst of the revelation, Oedipus is seen to feel “guilty” claiming “[he] is wrong”. As the desire for self-preservation emerges, he is seen to be in extreme sorrow and grief as “[he] stands revealed at last”. Sophocles highlights this key moment as Oedipus discovers his anagnorisis, in order to reveal to the Hellenic spectators and Ephebes, the dangers in pursuing the truth.
VCE · Creative Response
Creative Response: 1. Michael beats George even though he…
VCE Creative Response essay scoring 72.5%: Prompt #1 The delicious aroma of Mum’s meatballs wafted across the kitchen into my room. I stood up from my…
Prompt #1
The delicious aroma of Mum’s meatballs wafted across the kitchen into my room. I stood up from my bed, blood rushing to my ears.
Tonight is the night, I reinforced in me.
Tonight’s the night I talk to Dad openly.
As I timidly walked into the dining room, my family was already seated, waiting for me. Dad sat on one side of the rectangular mahogany dining table, still in his suit. Seated next to him was Mum, tired but mellow. On the opposite side sat my little brother, engaged unusually in a book - one of those stunts to avoid his least favourite food.
My designated seat for tonight was directly opposite to Dad.
Great. I had to do this face to face with him.
“Ah, Luca, take a seat son”, said my dad, peering at me through his thick rimmed glasses. It was strange how the most gorgeous looking hazel eyes could be so terrifying.
I attempted to get my thoughts in order as Mum served a generous amount of dinner on my plate. As each minute passed by excruciatingly, my every movement felt robotic, every breath got heavier by the second.
I finally broke the eerie silence.
“Dad, I got accepted into an arts degree at the uni”, I managed.
For the next minute, my parents squirmed as if they were suspended in some sort of dense fluid. Mum’s eyes bulged out of her sockets, her jaw hanging in disbelief. Dad abandoned the fork with the bite of food he was about to take. He lifted his face, his deliberate gaze boring through me. Heat rose in my face and neck, making me look flustered.
“What did you say?”, Dad asked, in the most gravely voice.
“I, uh… Yeah Dad. I want to pursue painting. After graduation. So I applied for the arts degree. And I got their reply today.”, I replied.
What Mum said next shocked me. I thought she’d warm up to the idea.
“But Luca, are you really sure? I mean, your application for Commerce was solid, I have no doubt you’ll get accepted”, Mum said, and in the corner of my eye, I saw Dad nodding curtly, his eyes still on me.
“Yes. I know Mum. But that’s not what I want. That is not going to give me peace and happiness”, I retorted, finally sharing a piece of truth with my parents in an eternity.
Dad put his fork down, straightening in his seat a little and clearing his throat. A typical sign of an incoming philosophical speech.
VCE · Creative Response
Creative Response: people holding hands
VCE Creative Response essay scoring 87.5%: Dear mama and baba I am okay I didn’t run away from home, They took me mama, they are making me sew clothes,…
Dear mama and baba
I am okay
I didn’t run away from home,
They took me mama, they are making me sew clothes, they hit me when I make mistakes.
I made a friend, an uncle who said he will take this letter to you.
Please know that I will be home soon. The man’s friend is helping me escape while the bad people are asleep.
Everything will be okay, I have hope.
I love you mama, baba.
“This was the note which my 7 year old daughter sent me!” I cry out hesitantly in pain, waving a stack of brochures I made with my sweet girl’s last note. “This was the last I heard from her.” I stepped forward, my presence feeling almost insufficient amongst the bustling city of Islamabad. The tuktuk drivers drove past me, snarling to their side. The working men who had bigger priorities than my daughter. But my priority was my daughter.
“My little girl’s name is Jafna Yassim and she is dead! And it is your fault! My Jafna, had hope…my innocent girl, had hope…that amongst her torture there was still good in her. They abused that, and killed my baby! They killed her and sold her for money and it's your fault!” My heart beat became louder than my words and I almost felt at the edge of insanity, swaying from side to side unable to maintain my balance. The people on the street slowed down. “My baby is dead and it's your fault!” I yell, hand on my chest. “Oi woman, what do you think you are doing, where is your husband?” a young man in the crowd said, he looked clean, he was wearing a dress shirt and was holding his phone away from his face with a look of disgust as it was my fault for inconveniencing him. I felt scared, I could get in trouble, my husband doesn't know I am here. My hands shake and I notice myself backing away one step, then two. Stutters of apology leave my shaking lips.
But then I remember the beautiful golden face of my daughter, my daughter who always flashed her right dimple as she smiled. She is brave. I also must be brave.
VCE · Creative Response
Creative Response: no prompt, but we are doing the…
VCE Creative Response essay scoring 77.5%: To the country I now call home, I once believed that belonging was something that could be earned — that if I…
To the country I now call home,
I once believed that belonging was something that could be earned — that if I adapted enough, spoke clearly enough, and worked hard enough, I would eventually find my place within you. However, I have come to understand that country is not simply a place one inhabits, but a space where acceptance is unevenly granted, shaped by forces far beyond individual effort.
When my family first arrived, we carried with us the hope that this new country would offer opportunity and stability. Yet, despite their qualifications and experience, my parents found themselves struggling to secure work, often overlooked and underestimated. This revealed that access to opportunity within a country is not determined solely by ability, but by how individuals are perceived and valued within society. In this way, belonging is not freely given, but mediated by systems of power that determine who is recognised and who remains invisible.
VCE · Creative Response
Creative Response: ‘Split’ depicts nature reclaiming the…
VCE Creative Response essay scoring 85%: As Jane walked across the pavement, weeds tore through the fractures, transforming the road into a thin,…
As Jane walked across the pavement, weeds tore through the fractures, transforming the road into a thin, green-streaked ribbon of grey. Even now, after all this time, ash still drifted through the streets. With each gust of dusty wind that whipped around her, she buried her head and mouth deeper into the thin, cotton embrace of her scarf.
Far ahead, stood the old market that used to be the heart of the town; despite the sun being suffocated by black smoke, the big FM sign stood out, with a single light flickering in the car park above. This time ten years ago, these very streets would be bustling with people of all backgrounds enjoying the area's culinary delights; most sat alone, but they still smiled at those around them. The Vietnamese uncles and aunties would stand outside, discussing everything from the lack of food to the disasters back home. Hundreds of feet created a dull patter against the concrete, interweaving with the conversations to create the sound that defined the once vibrant streets of Footscray.
The oppressive heat distracted her, plastering her hair to her back as the sun shone down on the market. She pushed forward, clinging to the pouch her mother gave her, arms throbbing from the weight. Her legs seemed to keep moving onwards, aching for the sanctuary from the harsh heat inside. A restaurant had a storefront sign hanging above. It was a faded red, cracked and crumbling at the edges, yet the golden foreign characters remained visible. They were in a language she had long forgotten, yet their unfamiliarity beckoned her inside. Within the store, the right-hand corner of the roof had caved in, allowing the contents of the store above to pile down. On the opposite side, a baby sapling emerged from the tiles. It was still thin and lacking leaves, fragile as a glass pane in a storm.
VCE · Creative Response
Creative Response: This is a section B personal journeys…
VCE Creative Response essay scoring 87.5%: Often, the prevailing misconception is that navigating a personal journey is about "finding" yourself, but…
Often, the prevailing misconception is that navigating a personal journey is about "finding" yourself, but rather the way an individual chooses to respond to challenges moulds their identity. In this sense, personal identity is not simply 'found' but actually constructed through moments of adversity. Yet, this can only be obtained once an individual adopts multiple perspectives, as one narrow perspective can act as a barrier to one's path of constructing their identity. One bold example could be the character of Scrooge from Charles Dickens's A Christmas Carol, who, through many pains of the past, present, and future, constructs a new identity, changing from a grumpy, greedy, isolated man to a more joyful, generous, and kind-hearted soul. Dickens shows how a response to adversity
VCE · Creative Response
Creative Response: Protest piece on title "Making…
VCE Creative Response essay scoring 80%: Making History You are walking home from your local train station after a long day of work. You are exhausted.…
Making History
You are walking home from your local train station after a long day of work. You are exhausted. Yet still, when you hear a car door slam, you jolt and your heart rate spikes. With no police officers and very few people around, subconsciously, you find yourself listening out for the rhythm of footsteps, you grip your keys like a weapon, you quicken your pace hoping to not become another statistic. Whether you realise it or not, it is because of the now brutal reality that safety is no longer a guarantee like it was historically, but rather a lottery, and your luck may have just run out.
Speaker, the issue we discuss today is the Youth Justice Amendment Bill. This is the bill that is marketed as the saviour to our problems. But how can we trust them when they are the very architects of it? While some people are able to see how safety has become a luxury and are protesting for change, too many are oblivious, until it hits them or someone they love. The status quo signals that this inaction and exponential growth of youth crime will lead to a future with the same problems, unless action is taken and we set our priorities straight. This is a future we need to make a distant thought in the past. It's no longer a policy, but a human rights issue, and it’s our time to change this, starting by making sure this bill is history. But let me lambast why:
Well, first let’s address the elephant in the room: the "machete bins." Is there anything more ironically representative of the opposition’s failure than a $325,000 high-tech rubbish bin? They are literally asking criminals to "recycle" their violence.
[Interjection - We have been seeing them work]
Speaker, do we honestly expect a youth offender, high on the adrenaline of a three-state car chase, to stop and politely dispose of his blade in a government-sanctioned litter box? It is not just naive; it is an insult to the intelligence of every Victorian.
VCE · Creative Response
Creative Response: “There is no greater high then…
VCE Creative Response essay scoring 87.5%: English timed practice SAC - part 1 Title: Victory The following emails were siezed and redacted by The…
English timed practice SAC - part 1
Title: Victory
The following emails were siezed and redacted by The former Russian intelligence agency; Sluzhba Vneshney Razvedki (SVR) under Putins rule. These emails written by whistleblower, Elza Kazanen from 2023 to 2024, have since been unredacted to convey how oppressive the previous government was, however, these redactions have been represented by outlines. These files were ordered to be released by Justice Minister, Alexander Svezheniye on the 11th of March, 2031.
To: AnnieJones@gmail.com.au
From: Elza.Kazanen@yahoo.com.au
Subject: (no subject)
Date: 16/07/2023
My dearest, Annie.
I hope this email doesn't come as a suprise, and your mother, my sister did indeed inform you, that this shall be my preferred form of communication for the forseeable future. I have been forced to swith, I was getting quite tiresome of constantly having my letters returned, with the seal tarnished. I mean, for goodness sake! All I have done, that is remotely 'anti government' is arrange and attend For Fair Elections in 2011! I do think that they have me on some form of list, it feels as though they are attempting to torture me to death, at this stage, they might as well given me a prison sentence! It would have been shorter and less painless than taking away my dear letters.
Anyways, enough of my complaining, how is Australia? I have heard that Melbourne is particularly freezing around this time of year. I do miss voting, the sound of tram bells, the salty air around the beach, and that beautiful Russian bakery in Bentleigh East. I dream one day of the warm, fiery freedoms of Australia being flown to Russia, melting the ice of oppression. When I last visted in 2019, all I could think about was challenging the oppressive government and tearing it down, to build the Russia I dream of.
Do you remember Alex? The handsome neighbor boy (who is your age), well he has very kindly set up a VPN on my computer so I can speak more freely to you than ever before! He also introduced me to a resistance, called "The Anti-corruption Foundation" or FBK, it wants to make an impact through reason, and not violence, it wants to convert the Russian people to fight peacefully for a free Russia! I found it quite intriguing, a nobody, like
Before you attempt to talk me out of it, I have not come to a decision about it yet, it may be the chance to craft the Russia I dream of.
A Russia where the people are able to publish what ever they so choose to, without fear of assassination from the SVR. I look back to eighteen year old poor me, who had to suffer the consequences of my Mother publishing anti government and corruption articles. I feel deeply saddened for my sister, who grew into her teenage years without a mother to guide her.
Speaking of my Mother, I recently went to visit her on the thirty-ninth anniversary of her death, and there happened to be a dead bird placed in front of her grave. Her grave is located around on two hours drive from St Petersburg along the Gulf of Finland, in a very small cemetery, and she just happened to be a notorious anti-government journalist. This was the SVR, I have a deep feeling.
VCE · Creative Response
Creative Response: 'A game of laughter, a dance of glee,…
VCE Creative Response essay scoring 72.5%: Some say that play is freeing, that it is when one can be truly at peace, but yet something so uplifting can…
Some say that play is freeing, that it is when one can be truly at peace, but yet something so uplifting can also be incredibly unforgiving, and can break people down more than build them up.
Anyone who has ever experienced a devastating sporting, academic or any other loss, knows that in that moment, play becomes anything but fun. It shifts itself into a pain that runs through you, one that cannot be explained or stopped. Tightening your chest and throat, mouth running dry, unable to speak, feeling nothing but helpless in those minutes after a crushing defeat. But yet coaches, parents, players and supporters alike all have the same motto, “have fun!”, and “don’t take it too seriously!” Yet when it comes down to crunch time, when it comes to winning and losing, I guarantee all would pick to win, and if you do lose, then you become scrutinized beyond belief. Take a look at elite sporting coaches for instance, their team loses a few games in a row, and every man and their dog comes for their job (and their neck). You have to concede that this would not be the ideal “fun” time for these individuals, with the thought of the walls around closing in on them. Doesn’t exactly sound free, does it?
VCE · Creative Response
Creative Response: Framework of idea protest
VCE Creative Response essay scoring 80%: Account: Fatemehpasandideh10 9.4 K followers following 189 69 Posts Sportsperson Daughter of Iran Footballer…
Account: Fatemehpasandideh10
9.4 K followers following 189
69 Posts
Sportsperson
Daughter of Iran
Footballer
Location: Australia AU
Instagram Post: Insert Title of SAC eg ‘Defiance’ ‘Loud Voices’ ‘Every Voice Matters’
Caption:
My heart is full of gratitude today, and I know deep down, for now, everything will be okay. Thank you to my new family, the Brisbane Roar soccer club, for accepting me into your team. When I first started playing women’s football for Bam Khatoon as a midfielder, nothing could have prepared me for the moment I received my first Australian jersey. Receiving that jersey coincided with something far greater, being granted refuge here in Australia under a humanitarian visa. But with that privilege comes responsibility. Sport is often imagined as existing outside of protest, a space of fair competition, respect and clear boundaries, yet it is also an embodiment of society itself, reflecting its values, tensions and injustices and therefore cannot be seen as untouched by the ongoing conflicts that affect the real people involved or untouched by the need to challenge these injustices.
I feel it is important to explain my decision, and the decision of my teammates, to abstain from singing the Iranian national anthem before our match at the Asia Cup earlier this year. This was not spontaneous. It was not emotional. It was not careless. It was a predetermined decision, made together, with full awareness of the risks. We understood what silence might cost us, contracts, careers, and the safety of those we love. We were inspired by those who came before us, those who protested not with violence, but with sacrifice. Women like Emmeline Pankhurst, who endured hunger strikes to demand a voice. Afghan refugees in Woomera who sewed their lips together to expose injustice. The German national team who covered their mouths to protest being silenced on the world stage. Each act was different. Each act was criticised. Each act was questioned. But each act forced the world to look.
We have been silenced. So our response was to reclaim some control and ironically choose silence ourselves. Silence over violence all the while recognising that silence taken too far, can be akin to being a bystander. To be complacent is to be complicit. Some may ask what is the point, what does this achieve? We stood on that field as athletes, but the real battle was not the game. It was happening beyond the stadium, in our homes, our streets, our country. Our silence was not absence. It was presence. A refusal to remain silent when faced by our country’s dehumanising regime. Protest is not always loud. It does not always block roads or fill streets. Sometimes it is quiet. Sometimes it is restrained. Sometimes it is a moment that passes quickly but lingers far longer in the minds of those who witnessed it. We used the only thing we had at that moment, visibility. Not to solve everything. But to refuse to pretend. I have used my body, like others before me, on the sporting field, like others before me, to send a message.
#WomanLifeFreedom #SilenceSpeaks #StandForIran
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VCE · Text Response
Text Response: How does Shirley Jackson explore isolation…
VCE Text Response essay scoring 85%: In We Have Always Lived in the Castle, Shirley Jackson explores the destructive relationship between individuals…
In We Have Always Lived in the Castle, Shirley Jackson explores the destructive relationship between individuals and society through the extreme isolation of the Blackwood family. The novel suggests that while isolation can provide safety and control, it also leads to psychological instability and disconnection from reality. Through the characters of Merricat, Constance, and the hostile villagers, Jackson shows that both society and isolation can be equally damaging.
Merricat Blackwood represents the comfort and danger of isolation. She feels safe within the boundaries of her home and village routines, often relying on rituals and superstitions to maintain control over her world. For example, she buries objects and repeats routines to “protect” the house, showing her need for stability. This suggests that isolation has caused her to create her own version of reality, separate from the outside world. Merricat’s famous line about wanting to live on the moon highlights her desire to completely escape society. While this isolation protects her from the cruelty of others, it also prevents her from developing emotionally, trapping her in a childlike and obsessive mindset.
VCE · Text Response
Text Response: There is no justice in "Antigone." Do you…
VCE Text Response essay scoring 85%: There is no Justice in Antigone. Do you agree? No 'I will suffer nothing as great as death without glory' 'denied…
There is no Justice in Antigone. Do you agree?
No
'I will suffer nothing as great as death without glory'
'denied all joys of marriage'
Justice was served in Antigone as Pride was rewarded with
creon suffered
mighty words of the proud are 'paid in full'
'riped out, looks and all'
'Splendid king', 'desert island'
No there is Justice
Yes
fairness
equality
unfair burden
declaration
proclamation
realisation
exclamation
view
suggests
emphasises
reveals
demonstrates
highlights
explores
Yes there is no justice
the inequality for women
The Sexism served as a barrier to equality
- for women
- light bit / proud rebelious horse
- 'underlings' 'strong hands'
Intro
Sophocles play Antigone suggests that Justice is not always consistent. Whilst Some characters recieve fair punishments, others are not treated equally due to gender. In addition, Some characters are not rewarded for their noble choices. Ultimately, Antigone has both fairness and inequality within the play.
VCE · Creative Response
Creative Response: Folio 1: Joy in the natural world / ,…
VCE Creative Response essay scoring 80%: Sam’s world was a construction of fluorescent hums and the rhythmic pulse of New York traffic far below. As he…
Sam’s world was a construction of fluorescent hums and the rhythmic pulse of New York traffic far below. As he gripped his reflective suitcase, his Italian loafers moved silently across the office carpet; a surface as manicured as his reputation. A brief, curated nod to the intern was all that was required to spark a familiar flame of envy. After all, it was a normality Sam had come to accept. To the world, he was the blueprint for success; a penthouse overlooking Manhattan and a face that seemed carved for the silver screen. It was hard to believe ‘perfection’ didn't exist, yet as the elevator doors slid shut, the reflection staring back at him felt like a hollow shell of a man he no longer recognised.
The crisp office air was blurred with the strong scent of boiled sausages. City lights, generally blinding, dimmed a shade of grey. ‘The city that never sleeps’, a place yearned by those behind the screens in their comforted home. Yet, not even in sleep, or his bed did Sam find a moment of solace. With each step on his detour home, gravity had seemed to push him further into the concrete.
VCE · Creative Response
Creative Response: Folio 1: Joy in the natural world / ,…
VCE Creative Response essay scoring 72.5%: The unbillable hour Sam’s world was a construction of fluorescent hums and the rhythmic pulse of New York…
The unbillable hour
Sam’s world was a construction of fluorescent hums and the rhythmic pulse of New York traffic far below. As he gripped his reflective suitcase, his Italian loafers moved silently across the office carpet; a surface as manicured as his reputation. A brief, curated nod to the intern was all that was required to spark a familiar flame of envy. After all, it was a normality Sam had come to accept. To the world, he was the blueprint for success; a penthouse overlooking Manhattan and a face that seemed carved for the silver screen. It was hard to believe ‘perfection’ didn't exist, yet as the elevator doors slid shut, the reflection staring back at him felt like a hollow shell of a man he no longer recognised.
The crisp office air, blurred with the strong scent of boiled sausages. City lights, generally blinding, dimmed a shade of grey. ‘The city that never sleeps’, a place yearned by those behind the screens in their comforted home. Yet, not even in sleep, or his bed did Sam find a moment of solace. With each step on his detour home, gravity had seemed to push him further into the concrete.
VCE · Text Response
Text Response: The trick was to understand America, to…
VCE Text Response essay scoring 85%: Upon framing the social and familial expectations that often, “wrap itself around [the] neck” of individuals, “very…
Upon framing the social and familial expectations that often, “wrap itself around [the] neck” of individuals, “very nearly choking them,” from preserving their identity is a common motif explored by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie’s anthology, “The thing around your neck.”
In her now famous Ted Talk, “ The danger of a single story”, Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie frames the struggles to overturn a world history and process of understanding that, “making one story,” more than becoming “the only story.” Her anthology utilises different perspectives to establish the difficulties of cultural dislocation of migration and identity to shape one's sense of self. Adichie asserts the corrupt unforgiving social hierarchies and group pressure exacerbate the male-centered beliefs, a common struggle disempowering the voice and power of individuals, specifically women. Through the cultural alienation of Akunna, Chinaza and Ugunwa, Adichie suggests the influence of colonisation as oppressive to African minorities, demonstrating the struggles to assimilate in a country and culture that is, “give and take,” in disillusionment of the American dream, understanding the difficulties to, “[give] up a lot, but [to gain] a lot too.” Due to the patriarchal structures intimate relationships, Adichie conveys the detachments and sense of isolation developing due to the inability to cope. Despite this, Adichie does not relegate her characters to uncomplicated victimhood. Akunna, Ujunwa and others rebel to assert self-determination in the face of oppressive social and patriarchal structures, undoubtedly revolting to, “dictate to life.”
VCE · Creative Response
Creative Response: The title was independence and the…
VCE Creative Response essay scoring 72.5%: Independence Dear diary. Entry 184 3/6/25 I have been thinking a lot lately, thinking in ways that can only…
Independence
Dear diary. Entry 184 3/6/25
I have been thinking a lot lately, thinking in ways that can only be described as a rock being thrown out at sea. Would that rock ever be found again? I’ve been told to put my thoughts into words, but it seems there is no escape from my own mind. I’ve done it hundreds of times now, how are written words supposed to help when there feels to be a piece of me missing. I don’t know exactly where I lost it, but when I look around at the adults that surround me whether at work or on the bus ride home it seems that they are all also missing that piece. I don’t know what part is missing or if I’m at fault for taking it out, not that I remember when this part of me was actually lost. It’s probably my fault; everything has always felt a way to lean to be my fault. I hope one day it doesn’t feel like my fault, and I hope on that day I stop writing in this stupid dam diary.
I could be like the kid from the Diary of a Wimpy kid books, call it a journal instead of a diary. But I’m not a liar, it’s a diary like the way a branch is a big stick, you could argue it’s just a big stick and it could be considered a big stick but at the end of the day it’s just a branch. I think I’m envious of the kid from the Diary of a Wimpy kid books, not because he chooses to call his diary a journal but because he is allowed to. When you’re that young it’s okay to try and pretend to be who ever you want, it’s the little independence that you hold at that day. To imagine all the possibilities your imagination holds. I’m envious that I have lost that independence. I like to think I remember the days where I had no worries, but I worried a lot as a kid, it’s just those worries don’t amount to the stress I hold at my ground age. I shouldn’t be too harsh on myself, the big brown bear that was definitely in the frightening forest down faber lane was one hundred percent out to get me, even if I did live in Australia.