Whitlam Institute Competition
Earlier this year a number of our students entered the Whitlam Institute’s annual writing competition, writing a creative or critical piece on the topic of “What Matters?” With tens of thousands of entries around the country, students were encouraged to reflect and think about what matters in their life, to our society, to our future, or from our past.
Our school was well represented by the dozens of entries coming from all year levels, and two of our students were shortlisted on the finalist’s list!
One of our finalists, Ayanna A of Year 9, describes her experience writing and entering the competition:
“The Whitlam competition was my first time entering in a writing competition, and it was an odd feeling. It was rare that I would write for my own enjoyment but I wanted to try something new. Honestly the hardest part was getting words on the paper. I sat there for probably hours with a document, writing down ideas no matter how cringy, trialling them before eventually dropping them with my head in my hands. For a topic that was so open ended, I couldn’t for the life of me pick something that matters.
“Finally my inspiration came from just a conversation about my childhood, just a mention that I used to frantically look for the moon on the ground. It was such an absurd thing to imagine, it felt insignificant but I started wondering about how funny it would be if the toddler me was right. What if the moon was on the ground? What other things would the younger version of me like to see in the world? I kept continuing with the weird imaginations, and my criticisms of those imaginations. I felt it was important to show my different thoughts because in the end, all my feelings matter.”
The quality of writing produce was astounding, and we are extremely proud of the efforts made to enter the competition. Meha M of Year 10’s piece titled Once, can be read below.
Mr. James Desmond, Humanities Domain Leader
“Once”, by Meha M
Bliss
The world was so much kinder when I was younger. I was happier.
...Or maybe just more ignorant.
I remember dreaming about being rich and famous (unaware of the bodies littering the floor), owning a huge house (underpaid workers toiling for the top 1%) and living happily ever after (forgetting the wars).
There were so many things I didn't know (pensioners live on only $17) and I didn't realise how different starting lines could be or how I talked the language of people who took so much (the British museum hasn't returned anything).
I didn't realise that the diversity I saw was like the surface of the iceberg (Unemployment rate for Indigenous Australians [13%] is three times the rate for non-Indigenous people [4%]).
I remember the sunlight on my face (there are homeless on the streets), holding hands with my friends and complaining about the food (people are starving).
The world was kinder when I was younger, I was happier (I didn't know anything).
Layers
I was 15 last year, worrying about my new school - and the looming Ukrainian and Russian war.
Before that, I was 11 - popular, and the world was getting hotter every year.
I read something, once. That the years are like layers, like an onion. You're 20, but you're also every year before that. It's not as if you wake up on your birthday and suddenly you feel older.
You feel the same as you've always felt - only that time is setting in. Drawing bags under your eyes and folding wrinkles around your smile.
There's a part of me that wants to focus on the small things. I love the way the birds sing, the sun in my room, the sound of the ocean. I love the way candles smell, how my friend laughs and shiny stickers.
But I'm also worried about the detention camps offshore, the greenhouse gases in the air, the fact that billionaires have so much money and do nothing with it, the fact that women can't walk outside without the very real possibility of being raped or assaulted and that your background plays a big part on how much you get paid.
Which side of me do I listen to?
Blink
I feel as if my life is passing out of my hands.
Yesterday I was celebrating my 5th birthday, today I'm worrying about my future and tomorrow I'll be 40 with half of my life already gone.
I'm standing on a train and my life is whizzing past outside.
I was just studying in the library and now I've blinked and an earthquake has taken lives in Turkey and Northern Syria.
The problems have multiplied. The adults are forcing their mistakes on us. You'll fix it. It's up to your generation. It'll change with you.
It's never, we're trying to fix it. Don't worry, we're taking responsibility. Change starts with us.
We are tired, so tired. Of being told of so many issues in our world and not being able to fix it. Do we prioritise our wellbeing or the future of the world?
Adults always ask us why we look so tired.
Of course we're tired. What's the proper response to a reality which makes you choose between your own happiness and those of others? Where caring for yourself makes you a bad person? Where you have to learn to carry pepper spray with you? Where talking about periods is gross, but drawing dicks on walls is normal?
Of course we're tired.