VCE · Creative Response
Creative Response: Write a speech about protest, with the…
VCE Creative Response essay scoring 72.5%: Namaste! Welcome to the Himalayas, home to the highest summit in the world. Enjoy our unparalleled views…
Namaste! Welcome to the Himalayas, home to the highest summit in the world. Enjoy our unparalleled views above the skies that will take your breath away! Tick off your bucket lists and complete a one-in-a-lifetime expedition!
But watch your step, you wouldn’t want to step on our skiddy slopes!
Or maybe the countless bodies buried by the snow. By our footsteps. Our selfishness.
By our determination! Take on our gruelling challenge and reach our 29035ft peak! Be one of the few to complete the mission and take the familiar routes guided by our own experienced and successful climbers! Your prize?
Bragging rights.
“But it’s worth it right?”
Wrong.
Every year, tourists and climbers trample on our beloved land. They pollute Sagarmatha and leave behind corpses, marking their territory and taking over out mountains. Our peaks. Paths are naturally formed from eroding footsteps. Trails of blood follow those who summit, clouded by no remorse. We stand above the world, yet we have never been lower. We look down from the peak of Sagarmatha, breathing through oxygen tanks, while the mountain holding us up suffocates under the weight of our pride.
Today, I am not here to celebrate a feat of human endurance, I am here to protest a massacre of our sacred land. I am here to demand that we stop treating out most prized natural wonder as a pathetic landfill.
It’s image is often painted as a white, pristine, pure wilderness, yet the truth is far from that. According to National Geographic, Mount Everest has become the “worlds highest garbage dump.” Since the first successful ascent in 1953, the surge in climbers has left behind a trail of wreckage. Tonnes of discarded oxygen tanks, tents, plastic, and even worse, human waste.
VCE · Creative Response
Creative Response: "shadows of self"
VCE Creative Response essay scoring 87.5%: The shovel was never meant to feel like this. Its handle pressed into my palms, rough and splintered, as if…
The shovel was never meant to feel like this.
Its handle pressed into my palms, rough and splintered, as if it resisted being held. Each morning, I wrapped my fingers around it anyway, lifting it from the same corner where it rested overnight—silent, waiting, certain.
Back home, my father used to say, “Tools tell stories.”
At the time, I thought he meant the work.
Now I wonder if he meant the people who are forced to carry them.
The sun does not rise here. It arrives—sudden, sharp, unforgiving. Light spills across the fields like something invasive, exposing everything: the dust, the cracks in the earth, the men bent over their labour.
Thud.
Lift.
Throw.
The rhythm is relentless. Mechanical. It strips thought from the mind until only movement remains. Dust coils into the air with every strike, settling on skin, in lungs, between words we no longer bother to say.
When was the last time someone said my name?
I try to remember how it sounded—full, deliberate, belonging to me.
Here, names dissolve. They are replaced by gestures, commands, expectations.
A single story, repeated until it becomes truth.
At night, when the field finally quiets, I think of home.
My mother used to call my name from the doorway, her voice cutting through everything else—sharp, certain, alive. I can still hear it sometimes, though it feels like it belongs to someone I used to be.
They told me she is gone now.
The words arrived without ceremony, carried across distance like something too heavy to hold properly. I did not cry then. There was no time for it, or perhaps no space left for it here.
Sometimes I wonder if I left before she did, or if grief simply arrives later, in places where there is finally room for it.
Here, even memory feels like a distraction.
Before I came, I was told a different story.
Work hard. Earn. Return.
Simple.
Certain.
But stories like that are easy to believe when they are told from a distance. They smooth over the edges, soften the weight of reality. No one tells you what is taken in exchange. No one tells you how quickly you become something smaller in the eyes of others.
Not a son.
Not a voice.
Not even a name.
Just a body that works.
Just a story that suits them.
The first time the shovel slippecad, I felt it before I heard it.
A break in the rhythm.
A crack in the pattern.
VCE · Text Response
Text Response: Question 10 (23 marks) ● Construct an…
VCE Text Response essay scoring 85%: Gregor Jordan's Two Hands (1999) is an Australian crime-comedy film that functions as a persuasive text. It follows…
Gregor Jordan's Two Hands (1999) is an Australian crime-comedy film that functions as a persuasive text. It follows Jimmy, a naive nineteen-year-old who gets embroiled in the Sydney criminal underworld after losing money belonging to a local crime boss, Pando. Through its unique blend of dark humour, gritty realism, and supernatural elements, the film persuades its audience that the Australian criminal lifestyle is not glamorous or powerful, but rather a pathetic, brutal, and ultimately futile path that offers no real reward.
Representation is the process by which a media work constructs and presents a version of reality. It is not reality itself but a "re-presentation," a mediated portrayal shaped by the producer's choices. Media creators use media languages, including technical codes (like camera angles and editing) and symbolic codes (like mise-en-scène and character archetypes), to shape how people, places, ideas, and events are portrayed to an audience. These constructions often rely on, challenge, or subvert common stereotypes to convey a particular meaning or value. For instance, Two Hands subverts the sophisticated "Hollywood gangster" stereotype by representing its criminals as ordinary, flawed, and suburban, thereby changing their meaning for the audience.
VCE · Creative Response
Creative Response: 'Shakespeare presents marriage as…
VCE Creative Response essay scoring 75%: I used to believe belonging would arrive easily — as inevitable as the promises that carried us here. That it…
I used to believe belonging would arrive easily — as inevitable as the promises that carried us here. That it would unfold in wider streets, brighter classrooms, futures stretching beyond what my parents had known. They spoke of this country as generous, waiting — its vastness absorbing whoever arrived with enough determination.
“We came here for you,” my father would say, his voice firm with purpose, as though sacrifice could be justified by what followed. I believed him. When we arrived, I stepped onto the ground as if it might recognise me — as if movement alone was enough to claim a place within it.
But even before this country, there had already been a leaving. My parents rarely spoke about it, yet it lingered in fragments — a village surrendered for a city, red earth replaced by concrete, intimacy traded for survival. Opportunity had come once before, and they had taken it. By the time we left Bharat, the unravelling had already begun — migration unfolding long before we boarded the plane, each shift loosening another thread until the fabric no longer held
In my grandmother’s village, the earth was never passive. It rose to meet me, warm and insistent, pressing back against my weight as though it recognised me. I remember the way it clung beneath my fingernails, dark and stubborn, the smell of rain-soaked mitti rising thick in the air, intimate and inescapable.
“Feel the land,” my grandmother would say. And I did — not learned passively, but known. Anchorage was never sought, it lived within me, unquestioned. Here, nothing takes root.
The ground cracks beneath my shoes, pale and brittle, dust lifting too easily with each step. The air smells faintly of eucalyptus — sharp, sterile, unfamiliar — refusing to soften into memory. Magpies call in the distance, their song clean and foreign against streets too wide, too empty. I tell myself this is what we came for — space, possibility, a future unbound by limitation — but the words feel rehearsed, worn thin by repetition.
VCE · Creative Response
Creative Response: Give a mark /40 creative and /20 for…
VCE Creative Response essay scoring 75%: Narrative: Unearthed #2 Red dirt kicked up from underneath my tires, coating not only my ute but my forearm…
Narrative: Unearthed #2
Red dirt kicked up from underneath my tires, coating not only my ute but my forearm resting out the window in the red dust I had known too well. The gum trees along the road appeared as they always had withered, thirsty yet sturdy and resilient. The road was almost identical to the last time I had been on it. Lost behind years of the opening of train doors and the scurry of commuters, the distant memory of the property I was pulling into flooded back. Pushing the gate open, the squeak that filled my childhood years was just the same. However that seemed about it. The patio had caved in. Gone. The cricket pitch Dad and I had worn into the ground and yet adored so much was now overgrown with invasive wild shrubbery. The makeshift cricket bat my Dad made out of a plank of wood was nowhere to be seen. The times where we had to hand make our toys came flooding back; Makeshift balls, bats, stumps.All gone. Windows were boarded and the door falling off the hinges almost as if it had nothing left to protect. No sign of life. Nothing. Just still, stale air.
VCE · Creative Response
Creative Response: Give a mark /40 creative and /20 for…
VCE Creative Response essay scoring 77.5%: Narrative: Unearthed #2 Red dirt kicked up from underneath my tires, coating not only my ute but my forearm…
Narrative: Unearthed #2
Red dirt kicked up from underneath my tires, coating not only my ute but my forearm resting out the window in the red dust I had known too well. The gum trees along the road appeared as they always had withered, thirsty yet sturdy and resilient. The road was almost identical to the last time I had been on it. Lost behind years of the opening of train doors and the scurry of commuters, the distant memory of the property I was pulling into flooded back. Pushing the gate open, the squeak that filled my childhood years was just the same. However that seemed about it. The patio had caved in. Gone. The cricket pitch Dad and I had worn into the ground and yet adored so much was now overgrown with invasive wild shrubbery. The makeshift cricket bat my Dad made out of a plank of wood was nowhere to be seen. The times where we had to hand make our toys came flooding back; Makeshift balls, bats, stumps. All gone. We lived off the land as Dad would say “why buy something when we could make it!”
Windows were boarded and the door falling off the hinges almost as if it had nothing left to protect. No sign of life. Nothing. Just still, stale air.
Swinging the door open with a single shove I peered inside. What was once an energetic house was now overrun with an emptiness. Moving through the house, I found in each doorway a different memory. Suddenly I stopped. I looked at the doorframe taking off my hat, I read the wall. There were marks, followed by initials and ages. Towards the bottom of the wall I saw my initials JF, Age: 6, Date 26/03/92, my sixth birthday. That day we had been in a heatwave which had destroyed all the crops. Blissfully unaware, my brother and I ran around the property with water guns shooting each other. I had shot my Father whilst he was sitting at the dinner table with my Mother both staring at papers of which were of no relevance to six year old me. I stood there waiting for my consequence, yet it never came. Instead the dreary look on my Father’s face had vanished that day. Looking back I could remember his smile, optimistic and comforting, as he chased me and my brother around seeking playful revenge.
VCE · Text Response
Text Response: q: To what extent does Sunset Boulevard…
VCE Text Response essay scoring 72.5%: The Hollywood film industry presents itself as a romanticised place of glamour and success, yet Sunset Boulevard…
The Hollywood film industry presents itself as a romanticised place of glamour and success, yet Sunset Boulevard directed by Billy Wilder reveals it to be a place where identity is manufactured and survival depends on illusion. This is illustrated by the power dynamic is between the system dictators and those desperate to achieve their american dream, those discarded and exploited are lead to live in a manufactured reality in order to cope. however Wilder suggests some can transcend the vicious cycles of the star system and still succeed in their endevours. To a large extent the Hollywood film industry is shown as a controlling place but it does not ensure survival or success.
in Sunset Boulevard, the dictators of the system are those who manipulate others. However, their actions lead to success and survival. Wilder suggests that survival requires control over narratives and opportunities. He illustrates this by the mid shot scene of Cecil B Demille choosing to maintain control by endorsing Norma's perception of her relevance rather than pushing her aside 'like the million of people' who have to refer to Norma as a 'young fellow'. Additionally the lighting and director's upward camera angle as they move the spot light to get a better look at [Norma] highlights the power imbalance of the manipulator and the manipulated. These forms showcase that control is necessary to maintain stability and status within the industry, otherwise they are subject to the game. In contrast, Norma's decline shows the consequences of losing control over her image and career. Norma's dialogue 'I am big. It's the pictures that got small?' shows how despite her desperate attempt to reclaim lost control and talent. It is Hollywood manipulator 'pictures' that determine perception and lead to Norma's discard.
Moreover Sheldrake's controls access to opportunity. Sheldrake tells Joe [he likes] the idea of his script, intentionally keeping Joe interested and hope full even though he has no real intention of taking it further. consequently Sheldrake maintains authority and avoids accountability by directing someone else to tell [Joe] 'the script was no good'. Through this Wilder suggests manipulation in Hollywood is often subtle and bureaucratic, rather than overt. Ultimately Sheldrake's behaviour shows that survival while in power position requires controlling others' ambition while protecting one's own position. Overall Wilder reveals the exploitation of Hollywood dictators in order to maintain their position.
VCE · Text Response
Text Response: "Fame in Sunset Boulevard is a trap. Discuss"
VCE Text Response essay scoring 87.5%: Through it's tragic exploration of delusion and faded glory, Sunset Boulevard reveals the dark underbelly of the…
Through it's tragic exploration of delusion and faded glory, Sunset Boulevard reveals the dark underbelly of the American dream, where the boundary between prominence and bait ultimately dissolves. Within, the film critiques Hollywood's enticement and reveals it's treatment towards forgotten stars. Moreover, Billy Wilder presents the quest for stardom which allures aspiring stars to lose their moral integrity. Despite condemning eminence, Wilder acknowledges how fame is necessary for survival. Ultimately, Billy Wilder presents Sunset Boulevard as an exploration of reputation and the corruption of the American Dream.
Throughout the course of Sunset Boulevard, Billy Wilder denounces notoriety after obsolescence. Wilder's initial exposure of Norma Desmond pictures her obscured by the blinds which signifies her disconnect from reality. Through this portrayal, Wilder suggests that the Hollywood system treats people as disposable commodities. This is exemplified once the audience understands her previous prominence with Joe revealing she "used to be big", to which she responds "I am big. It's the pictures that got small". This dialogue between Norma and Joe underscores the facade of superiority which Norma maintains to protect her ego from the brutal reality of her own professional obsolescence. Futhermore, Wilder draws attention to Norma's mansion to further illuminate the neglect
she experienced from the film industry. Joe describes Norma's mansion as "out of beat with the rest of the world", Wilder implies that her mansion is a mausoleum of the past which represents Norma's refusal to acknowledge reality. The film suggests through Norma that her vanity and self-absorption are the products of Hollywood deceit. Wilder challenges the audience to consider Norma's decline as a product of Hollywood by critiquing a system that builds people up to be 'Gods' only to abandon them when they are no longer profitable. Futhermore, Wilder's use of meta-casting through the 'waxworks' further symbolise the industry's cruelty. This is demonstrated within Wilder's ability to blur the lines between fiction and reality by utilizing real-life stars of the silent film era playing themselves. In the film, they are depicted as "dim figures" who gather in the shadows of Norma's claustraphobic mansion. In contrast, they represent the 'expiry date' the studio system places on stars. Through this characterization, Wilder denounces the 'trap' of immortality which Hollywood gaurantees. Thus, the pursuit of fame is shown to be inherently shallow.
VCE · Language Analysis
Language Analysis: Play to win
VCE Language Analysis essay scoring 82.5%: The clock’s ticking blares like a siren in my head. I sit hovering over the board, fingers wavering above the…
The clock’s ticking blares like a siren in my head. I sit hovering over the board, fingers wavering above the knight, my hand trembling as if one wrong move may break something far more fragile than just the game. Across from me, my opponent sits still, giving nothing away, as though the clock bends in his favour. I remind myself I’m here to win, that’s the rule, that’s the whole point. Isn’t it?
From the moment I was shown how to move a piece, from the moment my old man would hover over our game board telling me to “think ahead, Eli. Always think ahead,” everything has been about winning. Win pieces. Win the position. Win the game. Win the respect. Win. Win. Win.
Now I’m here in the final game for the title that everyone has told me will define my future. My fingers inch closer to the knight. I pull them back. I’m winning, and I know I am. I’ve played this position hundreds of times, drilled into me by my coach with a single mantra: ‘Control the centre, calculate deeper than your opponent, build pressure’. I can already see it; the knight takes the pawn, the bishop forced back, the queen slides across, check, check, then checkmate. Clean. Precise. Inevitable. So why am I freezing up now?
I glance at my opponent, his grin reminiscent of my father’s smile. I’m young, sitting at the kitchen table across from Dad. The board is raggedy, a missing pawn replaced by a coin, and the rook is chipped. He smiles, glaring at me. “You’re thinking too hard”. But I want to win, I need to win. “Is that why you play? To win?” Back then, the question didn’t make sense. Of course, that’s why I played; everyone wants to win. But is that the goal?
The clock continues hammering its rhythm into my head. My opponent shifts slightly, still saying nothing. I force myself to calculate again, dive deeper, apply more pressure. The variations branch out in my mind, each one leading somewhere sharper, more decisive. Somewhere final.
VCE · Language Analysis
Language Analysis: Play to win
VCE Language Analysis essay scoring 80%: The clock’s ticking blares like a siren in my head. I sit hovering over the board, fingers wavering above the…
The clock’s ticking blares like a siren in my head. I sit hovering over the board, fingers wavering above the knight, my hand trembling as if one wrong move may break something far more fragile than just the game. Across from me, my opponent sits still, giving nothing away, as though the clock bends in his favour. I remind myself I’m here to win, that’s the rule, that’s the whole point. Isn’t it?
From the moment I was shown how to move a piece, from the moment my old man would hover over our game board telling me to “think ahead, Eli. Always think ahead,” everything has been about winning. Win pieces. Win the position. Win the game. Win the respect. Win. Win. Win.
Now I’m here in the final game for the title that everyone has told me will define my future. My fingers inch closer to the knight. I pull them back. I’m winning, and I know I am. I’ve played this position hundreds of times, drilled into me by my coach with a single mantra: ‘Control the centre, calculate deeper than your opponent, build pressure’. I can already see it; the knight takes the pawn, the bishop forced back, the queen slides across, check, check, then checkmate. Clean. Precise. Inevitable. So why am I freezing up now?
A memory forces its way in. I’m young, sitting at the kitchen table across from Dad. The board is raggedy, a missing pawn replaced by a coin, and the rook is chipped. He smiles, glaring at me. “You’re thinking too hard”. But I want to win, I need to win. “Is that why you play? To win?” Back then, the question didn’t make sense. Of course, that’s why I played; everyone wants to win. But is that the goal?
The clock continues hammering its rhythm into my head. My opponent shifts slightly, still saying nothing. I force myself to calculate again, dive deeper, apply more pressure. The variations branch out in my mind, each one leading somewhere sharper, more decisive. Somewhere final.
VCE · Text Response
Text Response: In Sophocles’ Oedipus the King, the hero’s…
VCE Text Response essay scoring 70%: Backdropped during the theorist and aesthetic zenith of Ancient Greek civilization in the 5th Century BCE,…
Backdropped during the theorist and aesthetic zenith of Ancient Greek civilization in the 5th Century BCE, Sophocles’ infamous tragedy ‘Oedipus the King’ serves as a profound meditation on the tragic culmination of human condition. Stemming from the intertwining forces of fate, subconscious drive and moral decisions, Sophocles’ thought-provoking play advocates for the idea that although mortals live with a predetermined resolution, the choices made by individuals inherently catalyse the inevitable. Initially, Sophocles affirms how deities are all-powerful entities able to exercise divine authority, accentuating the unassuming power of prophetic decree in sculpting one’s downfall. However ultimately, ‘Oedipus the King’ serves as both a contemporary caution against the inevitability of forces beyond mortal control as they do not escalate from moral decisions, as well as the consequential effect of moral decisions that may mould one's path to their destiny. |
VCE · Creative Response
Creative Response: Title: 'All aboard a path to..."…
VCE Creative Response essay scoring 65%: All aboard a path to… Recovery. My father once told me that finding joy within a hobby is the only way to get…
All aboard a path to…
Recovery.
My father once told me that finding joy within a hobby is the only way to get by in life. Without a hobby, you are quite frankly nothing in this world.
He said that your hobby sticks with you for the rest of your life. Whether that be writing, playing a sport, or becoming part of a band. No matter what you chose to take pride in and find joy in, it will stick with you forever.
Just like mine did. It is hiking.
Good afternoon all, my name is Sophie, Sophie Foster, and I am a 21 year old girl from Traralgon, Victoria.
Today I have been given the pleasure to share my story with the world, and hopefully touch someone’s heart who needs it.
Growing up I was strictly a family girl through and through.
My siblings and I were all home schooled, so we only really had each other and our cousins who we would see occasionally.
My family was my only love. The only ones I knew. The only ones I had.
Considering we grew up and had lived in quite a rural area with nothing much around us, my family had always loved doing anything really adventurous and extravegent.
We loved to go hiking up in the tallest mountains possible, exploring new land, and bonding in a place I’d like to call my second home.
My father, at age 52, got diagnosed with cancer. I was a little bit too young to really understand what that meant.
Until I turned 14. Unfortunately, he passed away when I was 14.
I didn’t know how to feel. I didn’t know what grief was. I didn’t know what to do with myself.
It was like I had lost the second half of me when it happened.
VCE · Creative Response
Creative Response: protest and engagement
VCE Creative Response essay scoring 90%: Death is the only certainty that connects every human being, yet it is the one choice that no human should ever…
Death is the only certainty that connects every human being, yet it is the one choice that no human should ever have inflicted upon them. Yet some governments claim that ending a life early is a form of justice. Should we accept this as moral or fair? The death penalty strips away something that no human can ever reclaim, their life, an irreversible action that leaves no room for correction or redemption. Life imprisonment already confines offenders, which protects society, yet execution exterminates the possibility for reflection, change, or eventual reconciliation. Taking a life in the name of justice isn’t justice at all, it simply sustains violence and demonstrates that the state values punishment over humanity. Execution in the name of justice is neither fair nor just, it is irreversible and denies the possibility of personal growth or redemption. It signals a disturbing lack of faith in humanity’s capacity to improve and transform. When a government decides that a person is beyond repair, it makes a definitive statement not only about that individual, but about its own belief in human potential and the kind of justice it chooses to uphold. A society’s response to wrongdoing reveals its values, if it answers violence with violence, it risks diminishing the very humanity it seeks to defend.
Some claim that the death penalty deters crime by permanently removing offenders from society. However, this argument fails to engage with the deeper meaning of human behaviour. The flaw lies in assuming all violent acts are deliberate and rational, when many crimes occur impulsively or under extreme stress. In moments of anger, trauma, desperation, or mental instability, individuals aren’t considering consequences, they are reacting. Emotional overwhelm can override logical reasoning, and in such moments the fear of punishment becomes secondary to immediate impulse. The idea that a potential offender calmly pauses to weigh the fear of execution before committing a crime oversimplifies the complexity of human psychology. If the true purpose of justice is to protect society, then life imprisonment already achieves this without needing to resort to irreversible punishment. It removes dangerous people from the public while still allowing space for accountability and reflection. Execution doesn’t enhance protection, it merely changes the severity of the response. It shifts the focus from prevention to retaliation. Therefore, if capital punishment genuinely functioned as an effective deterrent, regions that enforce it would consistently show lower crime rates. However, evidence does not consistently support this claim. Violence exists in societies with and without the death penalty, suggesting that punishment alone does not address the roots of criminal behaviour. The death penalty doesn’t eliminate violence, it simply replaces one form of violence with another. Rather than engaging with the deeper causes of crime such as poverty, inequality, generational trauma, and untreated mental illness, execution can act as a shortcut. It allows society to disengage from the difficult responsibility of reform and instead rely on permanent punishment. Addressing systemic issues requires sustained effort, social investment, and uncomfortable self-examination. Execution, by contrast, offers an immediate and dramatic solution that avoids long-term engagement with structural problems. In doing so, it creates the illusion of control while leaving the underlying causes of crime unresolved.
VCE · Creative Response
Creative Response: An exposition on growing up.
VCE Creative Response essay scoring 90%: There is a harrowing disparity between a baby’s boot and the heavy-set, weather-beaten leather of an adult’s…
There is a harrowing disparity between a baby’s boot and the heavy-set, weather-beaten leather of an adult’s shoe; the visual representation of time—the inevitable expansion of self and the transition from infancy to adulthood. However, it is rarely as seamless as a change of footwear—instead, a treacherous process of looking back while being unavoidably propelled forward.
Those who desperately claw at the past often stumble at the hurdle of the present, which barrels towards them unacknowledged. That is not to say that their efforts are futile. Oftentimes, it is easier to dwell on the past—to reminisce and ruminate on that which can no longer be. What can no longer hurt you. Good or bad, painful or pleasant, familiarity and predictability are the most comforting states to exist within. We inherently avoid uncomfortable truths, and, for some people, that uncomfortable truth is their reality. They would prefer to force their feet into their old, battered, yet beautifully constructed baby boots rather than accept that they have outgrown them for larger, newer, and less familiar ones.
VCE · Creative Response
Creative Response: country framework
VCE Creative Response essay scoring 72.5%: Unsettled ‘The loss of innocence portrayed in the American identity within Don McLean’s ‘American Pie’ 1950s…
Unsettled
‘The loss of innocence portrayed in the American identity within Don McLean’s ‘American Pie’
1950s idyllic utopia:
Don McLean curates a nostalgic setting through the commencing line “a long, long time ago”, which reveals the idealised and almost romanticised longing for the past. McLean discusses how the 1950s rock n roll “used to make [him] smile” symbolising the intense connection and attachment McLean felt towards the ‘old’ version of innocent rock n roll. The extratextual references to the “bible” and “god” underscore the conservative version of the American dream, that McLean felt connected to. This simultaneously gave McLean a sense of spiritual meaning in an uncertain world. The symbolic allusion to the “book of love” refering to the monotunes hit song, which represents the youthful and golden age of America where generations were unified, the nation was politically stable and moral. The significance of McLean placing the romanticised version of America at the commencement of the lyrics is to highlight the inherited national innocence (in 1950s America) to foreshadow the decline of national innocence and connection to National identity.
The loss of Buddy Holly in 1959:
The death of Buddy Holly symbolised through the motif “the day the music died” serves to underscore the major cultural influence Holly had on the idyllic and innocent version of the American identity. Holly’s passing reflects the death of the golden, youthful age of America in which McLean emphasises his emotional attachment to. The chorus exemplifies McLean’s growing disconnection to America’s national identity through the motif of the “dry levee” which highlights how the new generation of Americans will be inheriting shallow and lifeless art rather than the pure nature of Holly’s legacy. McLean suggests that the lack of innocence in forms of art will ultimately strip the beauty and idealisation of the American dream, leading to intensified tension and disconnection in one's identity and ambitions.
The significance of new forms of art:
VCE · Text Response
Text Response: How does Wilder illustrate that power can…
VCE Text Response essay scoring 80%: Set against the decaying grandeur of a forgotten Hollywood era, Billy Wilder’s acerbic 1950 film noir, Sunset…
Set against the decaying grandeur of a forgotten Hollywood era, Billy Wilder’s acerbic 1950 film noir, Sunset Boulevard, functions as a piercing reflection of the cinematic dream, where obtaining the spotlight operates as an addictive drug that leads to moral disintegration. Wilder’s central thesis posits power as a fleeting hallucination, granting an intoxicating but ultimately destructive sense of self-importance. The film demonstrates, through affluence and vestigial fame, how desire for power allows ego to fester, feeding into the loss of psychological control. Wilder portrays Joe’s growing closeness to the tyrannical matriarch Norma as the erosion of his integrity, exposing power as a mirage when delusions are confronted by reality.
Wilder illustrates how power manifested as material wealth creates a stagnant environment where the ego flourishes unchecked by reality. Within the decaying mansion, the mise-en-scène is a cluttered mausoleum of self-referential artifacts: the thousands of photographs of Norma Desmond that dominate every surface. These photos serve as a symbol of a self-imposed prison, where the past is constantly reflected back to the inhabitant to drown out the silence of the present. When Norma views her old silent films, Wilder utilizes low-key lighting and heavy shadows to cast her in a spectral glow, where the flickering light of the projector acts as a metaphorical drug that sustains her denial. Norma’s declaration that "I am big! It’s the pictures that got small" reveals a fundamental disconnect between her perceived status and the objective reality of the industry's evolution. Wilder captures Norma’s rigid, theatrical gestures, highlighting how she has become a caricature of her own power, proving that wealth has not bought her immortality in the film industry, but has instead created a hermetic seal that shields her from the pain of her own irrelevance. By trapping Norma in this cycle of vanity, Wilder underscores that the intoxication of power eventually leads to a total severance from the living world, turning fame into a figurative ambition that blinds Norma.
VCE · Text Response
Text Response: Pat Barker’s Regeneration is an anti-war…
VCE Text Response essay scoring 90%: In an epoch defined by brutality, the Great War serves as an uprooter, drastically changing the societal fabric and…
In an epoch defined by brutality, the Great War serves as an uprooter, drastically changing the societal fabric and millions of lives. In Pat Barker’s novel Regeneration, the author condemns the institution of war by illustrating the physical destruction experienced by soldiers, in addition to underscoring the corrosive effects of PTSD. Furthermore, Barker frames shame as an inevitable product of a judgemental society motivated by conflict.
Through the exploration of the physical harm inflicted on soldiers, Barker forces the readers to confront the vast ills of war. Throughout the novel, the physical devastation of war is foregrounded through Barker’s use of damaged bodies and corpses as a recurring motif forcing the reader to confront the horrifying imagery of war. Barker utilises detached, impersonal descriptions of those physically affected by war, reducing the injured to ‘creatures’, a lexical decision which serves as a mechanism of dehumanisation. This forces the reader to acknowledge the imagery as a perverse ‘normal’, where war has a lasting physical impact on the youth that are sent to fight. This is reinforced by her use of sardonic humour, seen through the description of an eye as a ‘gob-stopper’ and describing wounds as ‘neat little holes’; the trivialising phrasing creating a jarring tonal resonance, allowing the lightness of the expression to clash with the brutal subject matter. Thereby, the reader is compelled to confront the violence more acutely through its minimisation. Barker explores the effects of physical trauma on the psyche, with a sense of hopelessness profound among the severely injured. The ‘totally blank stare’ and ‘sombre and malevolent’ look by ‘figures…no longer the size and shape of adult men’ depicted throughout the novel evokes the mechanism for which physical trauma affects the mental lives of those affected; the inability to partake in daily life caused by war triggering overpowering anguish. All these elements are used by Barker to bring to life ‘horrors from the abyss’ found in war, forcing the reader to question the moral justifiability of conflict. Through a vivid evocation of the physical trauma on soldiers, Regeneration serves as an endorsement of the idea of war as a physical evil.
VCE · Text Response
Text Response: Pat Barker’s Regeneration is an anti-war…
VCE Text Response essay scoring 92.5%: In an epoch defined by brutality, the Great War serves as an uprooter, drastically changing the societal fabric…
In an epoch defined by brutality, the Great War serves as an uprooter, drastically changing the societal fabric and millions of lives. In Pat Barker’s novel Regeneration, the author condemns the institution of war by illustrating the physical destruction experienced by soldiers, in addition to underscoring the corrosive effects of PTSD. Furthermore, Barker frames shame as an inevitable product of a judgemental society motivated by conflict.
Through the exploration of the physical harm inflicted on soldiers, Barker forces the readers to confront the vast ills of war. Throughout the novel, the physical devastation of war is foregrounded through Barker’s use of damaged bodies and corpses as a recurring motif forcing the reader to confront the horrifying imagery of war. Barker utilises detached, impersonal descriptions of those physically affected by war, reducing the injured to ‘creatures’, a lexical decision which serves as a mechanism of dehumanisation. This forces the reader to acknowledge the imagery as a perverse ‘normal’, where war has a lasting physical impact on the youth that are sent to fight. This is reinforced by her use of sardonic humour, seen through the description of an eye as a ‘gob-stopper’ and describing wounds as ‘neat little holes’; the trivialising phrasing creating a jarring tonal resonance, allowing the lightness of the expression to clash with the brutal subject matter. Thereby, the reader is compelled to confront the violence more acutely through its minimisation. Barker explores the effects of physical trauma on the psyche, with a sense of hopelessness profound among the severely injured. The ‘totally blank stare’ of the ‘figures…no longer the size and shape of adult men’, and the ‘sombre and malevolent’ look of the ‘bent’ and ‘deformed’ man seen by Rivers evokes the way in which physical trauma affects the mental lives of those affected; the inability to partake in daily life caused by war triggering overpowering anguish. All these elements are used by Barker to bring to life ‘horrors from the abyss’ found in war, forcing the reader to question the moral justifiability of conflict. Through a vivid evocation of the physical trauma on soldiers, Regeneration serves as an endorsement of the idea of war as a physical evil.
VCE · Text Response
Text Response: Pat Barker’s Regeneration is an anti-war…
VCE Text Response essay scoring 90%: In an epoch defined by brutality, the Great War serves as an uprooter, drastically changing the societal fabric and…
In an epoch defined by brutality, the Great War serves as an uprooter, drastically changing the societal fabric and millions of lives. In Pat Barker’s novel Regeneration, the author condemns the institution of war by illustrating the physical destruction experienced by soldiers, in addition to underscoring the corrosive effects of PTSD. Furthermore, Barker frames shame as an inevitable product of a judgemental society motivated by conflict.
Through the exploration of the physical harm inflicted on soldiers, Barker forces the readers to confront the vast ills of war. Throughout the novel, the physical devastation of war is foregrounded through Barker’s use of damaged bodies and corpses as a recurring motif forcing the reader to confront the horrifying imagery of war. Barker utilises detached, impersonal descriptions of those physically affected by war, reducing the injured to ‘creatures’, a lexical decision which serves as a mechanism of dehumanisation. This forces the reader to acknowledge the imagery as a perverse ‘normal’, where war has a lasting physical impact on the youth that are sent to fight. This is reinforced by her use of sardonic humour, seen through the description of an eye as a ‘gob-stopper’ and describing wounds as ‘neat little holes’; the trivialising phrasing creating a jarring tonal resonance, allowing the lightness of the expression to clash with the brutal subject matter. Thereby, the reader is compelled to confront the violence more acutely through its minimisation. Barker explores the effects of physical trauma on the psyche, with a sense of hopelessness profound among the severely injured. The ‘totally blank stare’ of the ‘figures…no longer the size and shape of adult men’, and the ‘sombre and malevolent’ look of the ‘bent’ and ‘deformed’ man seen by Rivers evokes the way in which physical trauma affects the mental lives of those affected; the inability to partake in daily life caused by war triggering overpowering anguish. All these elements are used by Barker to bring to life ‘horrors from the abyss’ found in war, forcing the reader to question the moral justifiability of conflict. Through a vivid evocation of the physical trauma on soldiers, Regeneration serves as an endorsement of the idea of war as a physical evil.
VCE · Text Response
Text Response: Pat Barker’s Regeneration is an anti-war…
VCE Text Response essay scoring 87.5%: In an epoch defined by brutality, the Great War serves as an uprooter, drastically changing the societal fabric…
In an epoch defined by brutality, the Great War serves as an uprooter, drastically changing the societal fabric and millions of lives. In Pat Barker’s novel Regeneration, the notion of war’s evil is endorsed, through an evocation of the physical destruction experienced by soldiers, in addition to an exploration of the corrosive effects of PTSD. Furthermore, Barker frames shame as an inevitable product of a judgemental society motivated by conflict.
Through the exploration of the physical harm inflicted on soldiers, Barker forces the readers to confront the vast ills of war. Throughout the novel, the physical devastation of war is foregrounded through Barker’s use of damaged bodies and corpses as a recurring motif forcing the reader to confront the horrifying imagery of war. Barker utilises detached, impersonal descriptions of those physically affected by war, reducing the injured to ‘creatures’, a lexical decision which serves as a mechanism of dehumanisation. This forces the reader to acknowledge the imagery as a perverse ‘normal’, where war has a lasting physical impact on the youth that are sent to fight. This is reinforced by her use of sardonic humour, seen through the description of an eye as a ‘gob-stopper’ and describing wounds as ‘neat little holes’; the trivialising phrasing creating a jarring tonal resonance, allowing the lightness of the expression to clash with the brutal subject matter. Thereby, the reader is compelled to confront the violence more acutely through its minimisation. Barker explores the effects of physical trauma on the psyche, with a sense of hopelessness profound among the severely injured. The ‘totally blank stare’ of the ‘figures…no longer the size and shape of adult men’, and the ‘sombre and malevolent’ look of the ‘bent’ and ‘deformed’ man seen by Rivers evokes the way in which physical trauma affects the mental lives of those affected; the inability to partake in daily life caused by war triggering overpowering anguish. All these elements are used by Barker to bring to life ‘horrors from the abyss’ found in war, forcing the reader to question the moral justifiability of conflict. Through a vivid evocation of the physical trauma on soldiers, Regeneration serves as an endorsement of the idea of war as a physical evil.
VCE · Creative Response
Creative Response: In the future, medical advancements…
VCE Creative Response essay scoring 100%: Everyone said I was lucky. Rejuvenation took me back to 22. No mishaps nor side-effects, just a smooth…
Everyone said I was lucky. Rejuvenation took me back to 22. No mishaps nor side-effects, just a smooth procedure. But no-one tells you what 100-year-old bones smell like when trapped in 22-year-old skin.
At first it was the food. Steak tasted like wet cardboard. Coffee tasted like rotten milk, as if its proteins lost their structure. I thought it was a side-effect. “Your tastebuds are just young again!” the doctor laughed.
VCE · Creative Response
Creative Response: Stimulus attached
VCE Creative Response essay scoring 80%: Koa Thopre Indigenous Australian Wurunjderi Man Today, we stand at the crossroads of comfort and action. Where…
Koa Thopre
Indigenous Australian
Wurunjderi Man
Today, we stand at the crossroads of comfort and action. Where the necessity for everyone’s voice to be heard so that a win may finally come. A win will not sprout spontaneously, it requires people to speak out and demand change. Our ancestors have already begun, they planted the seeds of action, to ensure our Indigenous brothers and sisters do not just walk away with wins, but a life reclaimed from the wreckage of generational trauma.
For too long, we have sat silenced, our actions ignored. Our government made it clear our voices do not matter, leaving us to continue to suffer. We carry the ghosts of 100,000 children torn from their mother’s arms. We walk on the soil that drank the blood of 60,000 ancestors, murdered on the very land, by the very people who claimed “terra nullius”.We feel that the ache of a population hollowed out by 90% by a breath of diseases we never invited. We have acted. We have marched. We cried out. Our attempts were made futile, the canopy of silence was so thick, our voices could not come through. The government trapped us in a bystander loop, drawing us in silence.
Ultimately, this has been the truth of the Indigenous experience since the 27th of April 1770.
Our leaders talk of “bridging the gap” as if it were a simple stroll across a creek. In reality, it is not a creek. It is a canyon. Our government’s continued suppression and ignoring of our actions has created cracks and breaks in society. Our government believes change will appear from sheer willpower. Our government believes society can do all the work while they sit and observe. Our actions will not turn into fruition without the validation of our government.
When our government refuses to acknowledge the importance of everyone’s voices, tension begins to widen the cracks formed. Picture a class of ten Indigenous children starting their education. By the time the final year 12 bell rings, three chairs sit empty. Where are they? Sidelined by the system that was made to raise them up.
Look at Juukan gorge. 46,000 years of sacred history, stories and dreams, redacted to dust in a heartbeat. Our government heard our shouts of protest, but they still put the match to the fuse. Our government completely ignored our voice, instead they weighed heritage against a profit margin and decided our history was worth less than ores. They choose money over culture, they choose comfort over action.
VCE · Creative Response
Creative Response: it is a VCE crafting texts folio, with…
VCE Creative Response essay scoring 87.5%: The bell didnt just ring, it shrieked. It was a jagged sound that tore through the stifling heat of the Amani…
The bell didnt just ring, it shrieked. It was a jagged sound that tore through the stifling heat of the Amani High School classroom, signalling the start of Ahmad Abdullah’s real work. As his classmates scrambled, Ahmad remained still. He waited for the teacher to leave before swiftly sliding his mathematics textbook under his waistband.
Since the summer of 2021, Kabul had changed drastically. The world had turned monochrome under the new flag. The US troops had vanished, resulting in the Taliban taking over the streets. Ahmad cautiously stepped out onto the gravel path. He didn’t just walk; he navigated a minefield of glances. To the men patrolling in the green heavy duty jeeps, he was a model citizen; a boy going to school. However, they were unaware that he was smuggler. Every textbook he carried home was a silent ammunition, a weapon intended to dismantel the silence imposed on the women in every Kabul home. Ahmad continued his journey, constantly looking over his shoulder. Every turn was a gamble with his life, however, that did not faze him. This was his protest; a silent but impactful war fought with ink and paper.
“I’m home”, he whispered, bolting the wooden door behind him. The house smelled of saffron and the weary scent of his mothers’ labour. In the kitchen, Lina and Maria had their hands busy cutting spinach; a perfect household in the eyes of the enemy. But as Ahmad’s shadow fell across the floor, the girls ignited with excitement.
“Did anyone see?” Lina asked concernedly. She was the eldest, old enough to remember the times she was allowed to attend school and go outside. Now, her world had shrunk to the four walls of this courtyard she called home.
Ahmad hesitated. “No, but Abdul’s father…. They took him. They found the texts he used to teach his daughters and their notebooks.” The air in the room turned cold. Their only source of defense against the oppressors now seemed to be uncertain. Ahmad looked at Maria, the youngest. She didn’t know or care about the nuances of Jihadist ideologies, or the Afghanistan War; she was simply hungry for knowledge. She didn’t want a revolution, she just wanted to know how numbers worked.
“Open the book.” urged Maria.
VCE · Creative Response
Creative Response: There wasn't a promot but it was meant…
VCE Creative Response essay scoring 85%: Dear the class of 2016 31/12/25 The thoughts over everyone else moving on apart for me stabs me in my heart,…
Dear the class of 2016 31/12/25
The thoughts over everyone else moving on apart for me stabs me in my heart, you’ve all probably forgotten who I am. However, I definitely haven’t forgotten any of you. It is kind of hypocritical to expect you to remember me when you didn’t even remember me all of those years ago. I have always been forgotten but I promise you now, you will never forget about me. My purpose was to make sure no one else was forgotten, to promote them for the shame I felt however everyone that was remember always failed to remember me in the end. It isn’t only one of you, but like how all drops of water create the ocean you were all interconnected. From the start of games in the playground, to the end of never being invited out, I was always left out of the game.
I remember the times I tried so hard, I changed the ways I acted; I bought all the right clothing with the little money I held. But like an animal at the zoo, I was trapped away only to be stared at with nothing in your eyes. I thought I did everything right, truly I did, but these moments I am reflecting on it’s clear you don’t even notice I was there, I mean how could you? I remember a time where for the first time I wasn’t chosen last in PE, it was the start of year 9. There was one new student in class and he chose me; it was a shame that he left the school 3 days later but that moment I will always hold deeply. The way we played together in PE as two people rather than a distance between us. A nice guy who was struggling himself with wondering where he belonged, a new school would have been scary, and I hope for him I gave some sort of comfort. However, this isn’t about him, how could it be about him? That was the only time I remember being seen and you’re reading this expecting it to be about him? I remember so vividly my first day of school, the day I didn’t even realise would shape my entire life and I can’t even blame you for not choosing me for any games because you were only five years old, just like me. A piece of paper can’t be blamed for cutting your finger if it didn’t even know it was sharp… right?