Week 6 Writing Homework
- August 28, 2024
- 8:55 pm
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INTERVIEW QUESTION: Who is your role model, and why? Describe a time when you faced a moral or ethical dilemma and how you handled it. Choose a unique role model who contributed to the goodness of the world.
WRITING HOMEWORK : Imagine you are Zoe, after your experience in the eternal theatre. Write a narrative describing your interpretation of play about the American dream and your realisation that it was a lie and your internal conflict about the responsibility of a critic. Use at least 8 vocabulary words from the list in your entry. (400 words)
WK5 – Y5 – SCHOL ZOOM – The Critic’s Crucible Rewriting the American Dream – Slide (2)_compressed (1)Download
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8 thoughts on “Week 6 Writing Homework”
16 year old Zoe Chen erupted on stage, as she stared at the man in front of him with blank eyes. She was normally considered a ghoul, or a ghost. However, once she could hear the shortened whispers of Willy, and as her silhouette bled with an aura of red, she was done with all this terrible acting.
” Willy’s movements, they’re all wrong, and his motivations!” she complained.
Then, as if in response, his moves got heftier and 100 kilometres away, Tom Cruise, had refused to play the lead role of a movie, and the meaning of the ‘American Dream’ was rippled.
After, she had a phone call from one of her colleagues, and eventually discussed the problems.
“You’re missing the points,” she said.
“No Willy, can be perf…” he said however, he was cut off.
“Not that point! It is the ‘American Dream’ itself!”
” Are you saying that wealth and being smart isn’t good?” he asks.
“Yes, it’s all about happiness and wellbeing!” she says.
While they were arguing, people started to fight and argue about what the meaning of success really was.
At that time, Marcus was walking in the park, and as he muttered under his breath, ohh the American Dream is wrong! All wrong! He caught his eye, 2 people bruised and laying on the floor still fighting. Quarrelling. Not about anything normal, but of success. Then, he noticed. He could change the American Dream forever.
He quickly phoned Zoe, as she was also cursing.
“What.”
“You wanted to change the American dream?”
“Yes”
“Say whatever you want”
“success is failure”
Surely enough, everyone wanted to rebel.
“No”
Yes”
“Noo”
“Yess”
This then turned all the people crazy, leaving everyone confused.
This was what Marcus wanted. Confused people were easier to choose for themselves. The argument went on, and as more people were confused about what to do, they stopped fighting, agreed and disagreed, and slowly, the American Dream was ripped up.
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_grace.creek
Who is your role model, and why? Describe a time when you faced a moral or ethical dilemma and how you handled it.
I have many people in my life who I find inspiring, but one of them is Malala Yousafzai. At the age of 15, she was shot in the head by the Taliban because she spoke up about girls going to school. But that didn’t stop her. She continuously demanded that girls have proper education, and she is truly inspiring because even though she was gravely wounded, she refused to stay silent. She voiced what she thought was right and gave many, many girls their freedom, and is a symbol of bravery and courage throughout the entire world. Malala’s persistence to let her dream become a reality led to the Malala Fund, which has helped millions of girls access education in countries like Pakistan, Afghanistan, and Nigeria. When she won the Nobel Peace Prize, she stated, “This award is not just for me. It is for those forgotten children who want education. It is for those frightened children who want peace. It is for those voiceless children who want change.” She inspires me to keep going, and never let my voice go silent.
A dilemma I faced once was one that happened at school, and it wasn’t an easy choice to make.It may seem insignificant now, it felt monumental when I was younger. I had a friend who used to be really mean to me, she would often tease me and mock me. Back then, we had an unsturdy relationship and she was really popular, so I desperately wanted to be her friend, and telling someone would mean that she wouldn’t want anything to do with me after that. I knew what was the right thing to do, and I told someone. I didn’t end up regretting it, because even though we didn’t speak for a while, she stopped teasing me.
Week 6 Writing
16-year-old Zoe Chen bled on stage; the air filled with an enigmatic mist of the departed. Tangible nightmares lurked in the shadows, flickering light from the lanterns above casting an eerie glow over the beasts. Morbid choirs sung requiems of the dead and Zoe stepped forward, illuminating her appearance. Her face, once the beauty of youth, was pale and ghastly, a translucent chalkiness coating every feature. Zoe’s hair, once sable ebony locks, flowed like water, coalescing with the shadows. Her eyes focused on a sorrowful man in a dishevelled suit on stage, his hair wilting and his shoes scuffed. Willy Loman, the tragic hero, forever trapped in the hamster wheel of mortgages, tax, and unfair choices. As he recited his lines, Zoe’s critic’s instincts flared as she blurted, “No! Willy’s motivation is all wrong! And his plans are all going on the wrong track!” As soon as the words escaped her mouth, Willy faltered, his character shifting before Zoe’s very eyes. Across the states, another trapped salesman declined the soul-crushing job, and the American dream rippled.
Immediately, Zoe’s breath caught in her throat as she was sucked into a different realm. Her colleague, Marcus, an African American, was sitting in a chair, opposite to her, his breathing ragged and his eyes wide in discombobulation. “Zoe? Where did you just go?” Zoe, being the smarter one, got out of her seat with a refreshed feeling from seeing how her words affected Willy. “We travelled to different parts of the play. I don’t know how… I almost looked like a ghost in the backstage mirror. Which part did you get trapped in?” Marcus paused, his brows furrowing in disbelief. “Linda Loman’s speech. The emotional core was missing, her words seemed to fall on deaf ears! But then I spoke the words, and… her pain was palpable, people listened.” Zoe’s thoughts raced as she told Marcus, “This is the start to changing the American Dream.”
Marcus stared at Zoe as if she had sprouted another head. “Change the American Dream? But.. how?” He glanced down at his hands, the very hands that had gripped his seat in the theatre as he spoke the words to change Linda Loman. He looked up at Zoe, his expression a mix of terror and awe. “But we all have different views on the Dream. The fabric of it could tear, we could be guilty of shattering so many people’s lives.”
Zoe nodded slowly, and whispered, “Every small success is grand, family matters most, fairness and equality are essential.” They both paused and waited for some sign that it worked. Then slowly, painfully, the air rippled, and the American Dream was altered, the rips in the broken tapestry of America slowly mending. Marcus glanced at Zoe and nodded. “We could change the entirety of America for the better.” Marcus whispered. “Starting now.”
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The critique’s crucible: shaping the American dream
16-year-old, Zoe Chen materialised into a dim theatre. As soon as she arrived, a thread of light wound past the curtains which swept open with a large gust. The characters were already mid-monologue, eternally presenting their play. Zoe Chen watched as Willy Loman began a conversation. Critic instincts flaring, Zoe immediately burst out.
“Wait, that’s not right. Your supposed to be…”
Before the words had fully exited her mouth, Willy Loman’s voice suddenly faltered. On the other side of the globe, hundreds of people took a turn for the worse, refusing a promising job that would keep them secure. The fabric of the American dream began to tear.
Zoe’s eyes widened in realisation, shouting out in surprise, “It’s the American dream. It’s all gone wrong. It’s meant to be…”
As she spoke, the stage of Willy’s house transformed into a hamster wheel of crippling student debt, insurmountable paperwork, and plummeting stocks. Meanwhile, thousands of others were traumatised by insoluble nightmares of being on the precipice of bankruptcy and broken term deposits. Once again, the American dream began to tear, the essence tinged with false promises that were slowly flooding the air with the truth of reality which began to work its way into even the most complacent minds.
Suddenly, Zoe rematerialized in a room. Willy Loman sat in front of her, weighed down by the daily expectations. Zoe knew what she had to do. Willy Loman had to recognize that the American dream, though perhaps not true, didn’t define him.
Zoe approached him, gently whispering, “Willy, you are the pillar of your family. Don’t let expectations define you!”
Willy looked up; his eyes filled with a melancholic understanding that slowly escalated into a pillar of hope. Across America, people began to have a tinge of hope that built up. The American dream was completely ripped, but it began to mend with the truth within it.
Now, Zoe had to define it. The weight of the task ahead was encumbersome. If one mistake was made, the whole world could collapse. The few effected would create a domino effect, knocking down the spirits one by one, transcending oceans and seas, eradicating hope from the world. Zoe took a deep breath. She felt as if the world was hanging on her shoulders, as it indeed was. She lifted her pen, tracing several letters, before scribbling it out. Once again, she did so. Her mind swirled with consequences and the depressed people if it were not shaped properly. It was like a song; one wrong note would feel abrupt and disrupt the whole piece, no matter how well played after.
With her final decision embedded in her head, Zoe began to rewrite the American Dream. It held truth, not false promises of guaranteed success. It gave a lesson, educated people about consequences of every action. And across the world, people knew what she meant. Yet, she could feel hope dwindling slightly. Zoe admitted to herself that it was a necessary task. People deserved to know the truth of the American Dream now that it had been rewound.
As Zoe left the theatre, her actions playing in her mind, she prayed the truth would help people for the better by not presenting false promises that were constantly denied, but by telling people the steps of how to do so. And with that, Zoe disappeared into vapour, but her choice still lived on eternally like the theatre, shaping the world to be ready for improvement and renewal.
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tli.sydney
Sixteen-year-old Zoe Chen emerged in a dim theatre engulfed by overwhelming darkness, the air damp and sticky with the ghouls of past performances. On stage, a man in a rumpled, vibrant tuxedo was mid-monologue: Jack, Turner, eternally trying to relive his downfall. ‘This isn’t right,’ Zoe muttered with a tinge of frustration, her critic’s instincts flaring and her twitching fingers curling up into a forced fist. ‘Willy’s motivations are all wrong!’ As if on cue, Willy faltered, stopping in place, his moves becoming even more absurd and clumsy as his character flashed in front of his eyes. However, in the real world, thousands of kilometers away, Sylvester Stallone decided not to take that bone-crunching job, and the fabric of the American Dream tore into millions of microscopic pieces.
Afterwards a million phone calls bombarded Zoe as one by one she answered them with the same answer. Suddenly the head of the production crew had called her perplexed on what was going wrong.
“You’re missing the point, it’s as if you’re staring at something behind a barrier,” she said. “Willy has potential to be something ama…,” he replied but was cut off abruptly by the impatience of Zoe. “It’s the American Dream itself,” she sighed with exasperation recalling Jack’s clumsy moves. ” Are you saying that wealth and power isn’t the key to life,” he questioned with a curious hint hidden in his voice. “No, it’s love, joy and happiness,” Zoe replied quickly. As they continued arguing people started quarrelling and debating about what the true meaning of success was.
At that exact moment, Drake was taking a stroll through the serpentine- like track at the park muttering under his breath the American dream is wrong! A hoax! Up ahead on his route he saw two people bodies lifeless sprawled across the floor as they still urged themselves to scream at each other and continue the fight. Not about anything of the ordinary. About success. Suddenly, the cure was right in front of him urging to be used. To be shown to the real world.
Drake quickly dialed Zoe’s phone number, and he listened to the monotonous ring of his phone waiting for her to answer. Zoe answered cursing and angry. “What do you want,” she barked like a feral animal. ” Didn’t you want to know how to change the American dream?” Drake inquired urging her. “Yes,” she replied now her ears pricked with curiosity. ” Say anything you want,” Drake replied simply. ” Success is failure,” she replied with no sort of reluctance. Surely, enough everyone was spewing and rebelling. Shouts of agreement and disagreement rung through the crowds leaving all the people crazy. Confused.
This was exactly what Macus had intended for. Confused people made it easier for them to choose for themselves. The raging debate urged on lit with the decreasing fire of the desire of all the American people. Now as more people were baffled, they stopped fighting and agreed. Slowly the old hoax of an American dream was into smithereens and the fire was smothered by the water of the new intention of the Americans.
Who is your role model, and why? Describe a time when you faced a moral or ethical dilemma and how you handled it. Choose a unique role model who contributed to the goodness of the world.
My role model is Rosa Parks because she performed a small act that started the whole civil rights movement. Rosa Parks was told to stand up for an European person because there were no seats left. She refused, which may have seemed like nothing at the time, but in the end, she changed the way we look at the world today. When faced with an ethical dilemma between my friends, such as when they were arguing over their personal relationships, I ensured impartiality by listening to everyone’s thoughts to guarantee an equitable verdict, which allowed me to resolve the issue fairly, similar to Rosa Parks’ campaigns against inequality.
Zoe’s Journal
Entry: 1237
I bled into the alabaster white walls of the theatre as ghoul-like figures danced in the gloomy shadows. The thick mist seemed to carry an elegy of the departed, singing a sorrow song of palpable nightmares and the ghosts of performances past. I slowly walked to a vermillion red velvet seat, glancing silently at the amateurish performance.
On the dusty wooden stage was a translucent figure wearing a depressing suit with a monotony of grey, mid-monologue. I watched until my mind was brimming with discontentment. “This isn’t right!” I muttered to myself, my critic instincts awakening. “Willy’s motivations are all wrong!” As if the Fourth Wall had evaporated, Willy faltered, his eyes illuminating with a new light, his character shifting before my eyes. Unknown to me, a thousand miles away, a salesman decided to not take a soul-crushing job. The fabric of the American Dream rippled.
Marcus, a budding African American theatre critic who had just emerged from the prestigious Juilliard School, found himself in the dusty wings, watching Linda Loman’s heartrending plea to her sons. Her bloodless face was expressionless, her tedious gaze had gone meandering and the hollow emptiness of her speech remained. ‘Attention must be paid, ‘ she insisted, but her blank monotone seemed to fall straight to the floor, not quite reaching the audience. ‘The emotional core is missing, we need more expressionism of her pain! ‘ Marcus whispered, and suddenly, Linda’s performance intensified. Desperate tears rolled down her pale cheeks, her eyes abounding with despair and her voice palpable with pain. Across America, countless overlooked spouses felt a sudden surge of validation.
In the ethereal serpentine room, I faced off against Marcus. ‘Miller’s use of expressionism isn’t just stylistic, ‘ I argued, ‘It’s the key to understanding Willy’s tragic flaw!’ Marcus scoffed, ‘You’re missing the point. The real tragedy is the American Dream itself!’ As we debated, the stage behind them shifted, Willy’s house transforming from a symbol of aspiration to a cage of societal expectations. In countless homes across America, families began to question their definition of success.
Soon after that, I found myself in an intense workshop with the ethereal ghost of Lee Strasberg. ‘To truly understand Willy, ‘ the Method Acting master intoned, ‘you must become Willy.’ As I immersed myself in Loman’s psyche, I felt the overwhelming weight of his deranged delusions, the ache of his unfulfilled dreams. ‘Wait, ‘ I gasped, emerging from the exercise, ‘what if Willy’s harmatia isn’t his failure, but his inability to redefine success?’ I was filled with anagnorisis. The revelation rippled through the theatre and beyond. Across America, middle-aged men stood up from their desks, finally ready to confront their own Happy Loman syndrome.
As the eternal performance of ‘Death of a Salesman’ reached its climax, I stepped onto the stage. I trembled with trepidation. If I made a single mistake, the American Dream would never be fixed. I inhaled the thick air of the desperate departed, willing to be freed of the lies. My words reshaped reality with every syllable. ‘Willy Loman isn’t just a salesman, ‘ I declared, ‘He’s the American everyman, and his tragedy is our own.’ The theatre trembled with glory, and beyond its frail walls, a nation awakened to a new understanding of success, failure, and the complex tapestry of the American Dream. We had done their job – not to judge, but to illuminate, to challenge, and to inspire change.
Yours,
Zoe