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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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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_drradhikabhatla@gmail.com
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.
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Diana D
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
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B H
Today, in the surreal realm of the eternal theatre, I foraged into Marcus’s attainment, I consummated that Willy Loman is much more than just a tragic hero; he’s a superstition for the American Dream itself, alluring in its requisites but deeply preposterous in its implementation. The expressionistic nature of the play took on new meaning as I watched the Loman house physically metamorphose with each shift in Willy’s intellectual state. The walls seemed too close in as Willy’s aberration grew, a powerful symbol of the excruciating nature of conventional inevitability. As I enunciated this exegesis, I felt the ripple effect in the world beyond the theatre; multitudinous individuals suddenly aware of the corrals they’d built around themselves. My scrutinisation of Willy’s hamartia proved eminently puissant. I argued that his pernicious flaw wasn’t just his inadequacy to achieve success, but his demurral to respecify it. As I uttered these words, Willy’s character began to permeate on stage. The moment of anagnorisis I had slated for him; an apprehension that genuine human connection leverages rudimental success: evinced in a virulent soliloquy that hadn’t prevailed before. The catharsis was palpable, not just for Willy, but for the latent audience in the real world.
However, with this competence came an indomitable sense of enterprise. Each word of comment reshaped not just the play, but the textile of American society. As I advocated that Marcus’s dissension of the conventional American Dream was genuinely an instant of augmentation rather than fiasco, I had watched in veneration as a breaker of peripeteia lamented through the apparition audience. Outside the theatre, I intuited millions reevaluating their life paths. The acquaintance compelled me to grapple with the true purpose of disparagement. I wonder if everyone is just simply onlookers, or is everyone co-organisers of elucidation. The line between disquisition and formulation distincted as my words verbatimly amended the narrative of American avidity. After consideration, I chose to foreground the intimation of human unification and self-acceptance in my commentary. Just as the curtain prostrated on this ever-evolving entertainment, I saw Willy Loman, who still confronted failure, but who found solemnity in understanding his own valuation and expense beyond societal standards of accomplishment. The vicissitude remained, but it was strengthened with nostalgic hope, an emendation of the American Dream that acknowledged its imperfection while defending its interior buoyancy.
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Han Mu
As the curtains closed on my final performance in the eternal theatre, I couldn’t help but feel a sense of disillusionment wash over me. The play I had witnessed had left me haunted by its chilling depiction of the American dream and the harsh reality that awaited those who pursued it blindly.
The narrative unfolded like a delicate web of symbolism, weaving together the lives of the characters in a tapestry of hope, ambition, and ultimately, tragedy. The protagonist, a young immigrant named Maria, represented the embodiment of the American dream. Her journey served as a catharsis for the audience, exposing the flaws in the pursuit of success and happiness in a land where dreams were supposed to come true.
It was during the denouement of the play that my own anagnorisis occurred. As Maria’s life unravelled and her dreams slipped away like sand through her fingertips, I too realized that the American dream was nothing but an illusion. The metatheatre aspect of the play became apparent, as it held up a mirror to our society and forced us to confront the uncomfortable truth: that the promise of success and prosperity was a sham drenched in the blood, sweat, and tears of countless individuals.
My internal conflict as a critic intensified after this revelation. I was torn between the responsibility to unveil the truth to the public and the weight of knowing that my words had the power to shatter dreams. The hamartia of my role as a critic lay in the realization that my own pursuit of artistic truth came at the expense of the hopes and aspirations of others.
The verisimilitude of the play was both its strength and its downfall. It depicted the harsh realities of the American dream with such rawness and authenticity that it left little room for interpretation. This unflinching portrayal pushed the audience to experience their own catharsis, forcing them to confront the systemic flaws ingrained in our society.
The peripetia of the play was a cruel awakening, as the characters’ lives were turned upside down, and their dreams shattered before their very eyes. Each twist and turn served as a reminder that beneath the glimmering facade of the American dream, there lay a darker truth.
As I sat in the silence of the empty theatre, my mind echoed with questions. Should I use my platform as a critic to expose the lie of the American dream? Or was it my duty to simply observe and reflect, allowing the audience to draw their own conclusions? As I grappled with this internal conflict, I realized that my hamartia as a critic lay not in taking a stance but in failing to ask these questions in the first place.
And so, as I stepped out of the eternal theatre and into the real world, I carried with me the weight of responsibility and the realization that my role as a critic was not one to be taken lightly. In this moment of anagnorisis, I vowed to use my voice to shed light on the deceptions that lay beneath the surface, to challenge the verisimilitude of the American dream, and to create a space where the truth could be seen, felt, and understood by all.
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huashang66
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.
There are many inspiring people in life, but my biggest role model is Simone Biles. She is an Olympic Gymnast and has won over 7 gold medals. Her childhood was hard spending time in foster care due to her mothers poor and weak condition. In her gymnastics career, she was also teased and bullied due to her body and her skills. Although some of these obstacles often threw her off track, she still found time to pursue her dream of doing gymnastics. She never gave up because something was too hard and was undeterred, pushing through paving her way to become an Olympian. Simone was brave all along and never gave up. That was the true spirit if anyone wanted to achieve someone. A dilemma I faced was at my gym. I kept repeatedly failing a skill and my coach was also getting really mad at me. This wasn’t the first time, and it happened merely every week. My friends weren’t being supportive either and were just laughing at their own talk. I just wanted to give up and just stop. This feeling really weighed me down. But, I remembered what my dream was. I wanted to become an Olympian Gymnast just like Simone. I remembered what she had gone through yet she never gave up to achieve her dream. Although this didn’t work everytime, at least I knew the importance of never giving up.
Sixteen-year-old Zoe Chen erupted into the shadowy theatre, the air thick with the enigmatic scent of the deceased. On stage, Willy Loman struggled through his monologue, his voice rough with despair. Zoe’s critic’s instincts snapped to attention. Something was wrong. Willy’s motivations, his very core, felt twisted, as if the character’s heart had been warped and frayed by the countless retellings of his tragic tale.
As she absorbed the scene, Zoe realised the play was more than a portrayal of individual failure; it was a critique of the American Dream itself. The ideal that had promised prosperity and happiness now appeared as a cruel deception, leading its followers to endless dissatisfaction. Zoe felt a pang of regret, understanding that her previous critiques might have unintentionally reinforced this flawed vision.
Nearby, Marcus, an emerging African American theatre critic, watched Linda Loman’s desperate plea for her sons. “Attention must be paid,” Linda’s voice rang out, but her emotional depth seemed lacking. Marcus whispered, “The emotional core is missing,” and immediately, Linda’s performance intensified, her pain becoming piercingly real. Across the nation, those who felt unacknowledged began to feel a surge of recognition.
In another corner of the theatre, Aisha, a perceptive drama student, observed Biff’s confrontation with Willy. “The tension is misplaced,” she noted. “It’s not just about disappointment; it’s about shattered illusions!” As her critique took effect, the scene crackled with a new, electric intensity. Families around the country began engaging in difficult, overdue conversations about expectations and reality.
In the ethereal green room, Zoe and Marcus debated passionately. “Miller’s use of expressionism isn’t just a stylistic choice,” Zoe argued. “It’s essential for understanding Willy’s tragic flaws!” Marcus retorted, “You’re missing the point. The real tragedy is the American Dream itself!” As their argument unfolded, the stage behind them transformed, Willy’s home shifting from a symbol of hope to a prison of societal expectations. Families began to question their own definitions of success, seeing parallels in Willy’s struggle.
Aisha paced the phantom fly floor, her hands gesturing animatedly. “The play’s structure mirrors Willy’s fragmented mind!” she asserted. Below, the stage fractured into a kaleidoscope of past and present, reflecting the disjointed nature of modern life. In classrooms across the country, students began drawing parallels between Willy’s mental state and their own experiences of fragmentation.
From above, Eli, perched on a spectral lighting rig, called out, “The recurring flute motif isn’t just about Willy’s father; it’s the haunting promise of a false dream!” As the theatre filled with the melancholy melody, Americans everywhere paused, suddenly aware of the bittersweet undertone of their own quests for happiness. For Zoe, this revelation underscored her role as a critic—not just to analyse art but to challenge the deep-seated myths it reflects.
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Ella Yang
Who is your role model, and why? Describe a time when you faced a moral or ethical dilemma and how you handled it.
My role model is my mother because she always tries to be positive even in hard situations. For example, one time we were driving to the airport and only had ten minutes to spare. I was very worried but my mother was smiling, telling me that it would be fine even though I could tell that she was stressed. That is why she is my role model and I want to try to be more like her whenever I feel under pressure . There are many ways that I could do this. For example, remaining calm would be useful in a test situation as it would allow me to think more clearly. One time that I faced a moral dilemma was when I heard someone in my class asking another classmate for an answer in a competition. I then heard the other classmate telling him an answer but I knew that the one he said was wrong. I then had to make a decision. Either I could keep the answer to myself and he would get it wrong which would give me a higher chance to beat him in his marks or I could tell him the correct answer. In the end my moral conscience told me that it was the right thing to do to tell him the correct answer. This was because not doing so would be unfair to him and I had never really helped him in any way before so if I did it now then he might feel more friendly towards me. So I told him and when the answers were handed out he thanked me and I felt quite proud of my actions.
America’s play
A bleaching shadow fell across the solid wooden floor. A strange girl named Zoe Chen emerged from the palpable grappling claws of darkness. Her skin was so pale white, it also seemed as if her whole body was translucent. Then there were her eyes which were so grey they seemed to be completely faded, and around the edges her figure seemed to seep into nothingness. Zoe observed the area around her carefully. Everywhere she looked a cloud of insoluble mist covered her sight. Suddenly the mist started to clear, it was as if something had blown it away. When the mist was completely removed, Zoe could see a spacious stage. On it was the world famous character John Deech who was currently playing the part in the movie ‘Railway Deaths’. It was the movie that Zoe had watched hundreds of times before.
As Zoe watched in astonished perplexment she found a few flaws that she criticised bitterly. “The actions don’t match how he should be feeling, he needs to be more sceptical of what people tell him!”Suddenly as the looming sly woman in the corner left he soliloquized,”I don’t believe a word she said!”On the other side of Earth, fiction and reality, children in America started to question what their parents told them about the American Dream. “Wow”Zoe thought,”did I just do that?”Ten metres away a young boy named Marcus with hazel brown hair stepped into the serpentine lime light. Marcus’ body seemed to be slightly more solid than Zoe’s and he seemed to be completely normal apart from the slight translucency. He frowned at John Deech’s slim looming friend who was approaching him. “He seems too at ease”thought Marcus,”someone has just died”. Once more the friend’s contently tranquil face changed into a gasp of terror. A great distance away in America men and women who had been trying to hold in the absolute terrors of life felt themselves lose control of their body. Suddenly beside Marcus a girl materialised, witnessing the change, she smiled slightly in surprise. Marcus was frozen for a few seconds in sublime astonishment until he realised the figure beside him.
“Who are you?”Marcus asked cautiously. The girl answered saying that her name was Aisha. Then she pointed at the girl who was staring at John Deech. As they approached the girl she noticed the two of them. As Marcus spotted the tag on her shirt saying ‘Zoe Chen’ she said,”don’t think or say anything about what the actors are doing, it can actually affect what they do!” Marcus decided to tell her that he had already done so and when he did she told him not to do it again. Except every time he looked at one of the actors he was almost completely taken over by a flood of temptation. It took his whole concentration to not think about how they could improve their act. Both of the others were also feeling the same as Marcus but somehow they managed to keep the thoughts out of their heads. Together the three of them keenly discussed what they could do to get out of the erie nightmare.
It had already occurred to both Zoe and Aisha that they might not be in the real world but it took some time to explain this to Marcus. After he understood this he felt quite frightened by the idea that he was not in the absolute reality. While they discussed how they could escape this half reality, the play continued. By now it was up to its most breathtaking point in the story. Suddenly in the corner of Marcus’ right eye he saw one of the actors talking to the suspect. Without thinking he soliloquised,”if John suspects this man then he should just ask it already!”Instantly John Deech asked the man if he was the murderer and all the way in America children started to ask long suspectful questions to their friends and family. Zoe spotted first what had happened and turned on Marcus. “Didn’t I tell you no-”just as Zoe shouted at Marcus, Aisha said something loudly which was inaudible over Zoe’s loud yell. She had pulled out her phone and was about to message her parents when she read,’all over America the American Dream is starting to die for unknown reasons’. Her mind whirring fast from nightmarish trepidation she understood what it meant,”when we say or think something about the play it does that in America too!”Marcus, Zoe and Aisha all knew how bad this was.
A whirlwind of regret fell over all three of them, they wished that they could take back every last word they had thought or said about the play. Who knew how many people they had changed. What could they do now? Marcus, Zoe and Aisha stared at the movie, it was at the resolution of the play where the murderer was captured. They all wished that they could find a resolution to their problem. At that moment, as the curtains closed over the actors, they felt the air change. All around them the air was glowing like a great neon light, and then they were pulled into reality. In all three of their minds all the thoughts and words they had said and thought were flashing in their mind. Then they faded away as if they had been forgotten. As all three of them woke up in their own bedrooms they each felt the light weight of a news paper on their bed. On it read,’everything has somehow returned to normal’. Marcus, Zoe, and Aisha would never forget how they had been brought together by their criticism of a play they all knew so well.
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maggiesmchan
16-year-old Zoe Chen materialised in the dim, alabaster theatre, the air adulterated with the morbid souls of performances past that lurked in the caliginous shadows as an elegy of sorrow convoluted with the atmosphere around them. A man clad in a rumpled and dull tuxedo was speaking mid-monologue, eternally relaying his unfortunate end. Zoe Chen turned pale white as her critic’s instincts ignited – “Willy Loman’s death is not meant to be like this! He’s meant to wreck his car in pursuit of insurance gains!” – suddenly, the stage transmogrified as millions of residents on the other face of the globe rethought their ways of earning money. Zoe’s hair – once luscious sable locks – cascaded down across her nonchalant shirt as she slowly blended with the shadows. Yet still, after her financial incantations, she remained dissatisfied as her ebony eyebrows furrowed in profound distaste.
Without warning, the stage transubstantiated into Linda Loman’s heartrending speech. Intrigued by this absurd phenomenon, Zoe Chen began to listen and interpret the play as her scholiast psyche was reinvigorated. “Attention must be paid,” she insisted but her robotic voice fell upon deaf ears. Her colorless face was in complete contrast compared to the true undertones of Miller’s play. “This isn’t right, Linda’s speech is meant to tug at our heartstrings; the emotional core is missing!” Suddenly, Linda Loman erupted into a assortationt of melancholy and sorrow, evoking emotion across all of America as mothers and wives discovered a newfound determination. And as the stage shifted once more, a budding African American emerged from the recesses of the stage. Marcus – after just graduating from the Julliard School – arose from the darkness just as the stage bifurcated into the Loman family’s unwavering dilemma.
“William’s motivation is completely wrong!” Marcus remarked, and consequently forcing the United States to redefine their interpretation of success.
“But then that’s contradictory!” Zoe answered snidely as society shifted back into a hamster wheel of excruciating work and ordeals, insurmountable paperwork and plummeting stocks.
As they argued, the world churned in confusion as opposing viewpoints were forced to merge together. Finally, the world came to a standstill as the endless play reached it’s climax. And being the more mature of the two, Zoe arose – her knees trembling for one minute mistake could result in the downfall of the American Dream and the downfall of modern society – to end this ethereal predicament once and for all.
“Willy, it’s not money and wealth that builds the foundation of a meaningful life – it’s the good things you have done on the way and the people that matter to you. That’s what a meaningful life is.” Zoey chanted – and across all of America a determination and family love was brought to light. And as if the supernatural play had finally thought they had done the right thing, everything faded into black as Zoe Chen woke upin her bedroom; in reality once more.
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Benjamin Yang
Week 6 Homework
Zoe Chen, the profound theatre critic, bleeded into a dim theatre, nearly consumed by the enigmatic smoke. Tangible nightmares lurked sneakily in the dark shadows, the shabby chandeliers from above producing a flickering light over the dim theatre, causing an eerie atmosphere. Morbid choirs sang requiems of the deceased as the dead recited eulogies to other dead relatives. Her pale alabaster face of the living dead squinted at the stage, the translucent chalkiness of a face dripping into the wings. The strands on her head, barely resembling her once ebony black locks, covered part of her ghoulish facial features. Upon the mahogany stage, a crumpled figure in a creased checkered shirt recited his lines, a craggy, bed raged expression lingering in his face. It was Willy Loman, embodying the typical traits of the corporate slave- hamster wheel of taxes, social expectations and increasing living costs.
“No,” she muttered to herself, bloodless face scrunching up, “This simply isn’t right. This actor’s motivations are incorrect!”
Almost as if Willy had heard Zoe’s criticism, he abated, personality attributes converting right in front Zoe’s eyes. Right that instant, a worker labouring on the opposite side of America refused to accept another occupation, and the definition of the American Dream rippled in uncertainty.
As her phantasm like frame erupted back out of the theatre, she transported to the colleague’s discussion room. In the diaphanous room, Zoe raised her voice, repeating her opinions once again to a fellow critic by the name of Marcus.
“I’m not being wilful. I know that Willy’s tragic flaw is understood through Miller’s use of expressions and feeling. The tragedy is the play! It’s all wrong!” She vociferated, agitated. Marcus intensely shook is head, crossing his slender arms.
“No, Zoe. You don’t get what I’m saying. You see, the tragedy is the American Dream itself!” He bellowed, a rubato of emotionality expression crossing his face. Zoe scoffed.
“No way. I know exactly that Willy is- and plus, university and jobs and family is good!” she blurted, not finishing her sentence.
“I’m not implying that. I’m just saying that the American Dream is faulty. You can’t just set a Dream applied for, what, over three hundred million people! Let them choose for themselves!”
As the two debated over the American Dream, Willy’s house changed into a wild mess of mortgages, deadlines, crippling debts and failed investments. In numerous homes all around America, families and households quizzically began to challenge the definition of success.
As Marcus left the debate with Zoe, he decided to go for a leisurely stroll. On his way, he met two men gradually becoming more physically and verbally violent towards each other as they yelled. Marcus faded closer to them. They were both quarrelling of the meaning of fulfilment and happiness. It was then when Marcus realised his power to change America his way.
He evaporated from the streets, appearing again in the discussion room. Zoe was pacing up and down the room.
“Yes?” She asked, almost commanding Marcus to answer.
“What are your thoughts upon the American Dream?”
“Oh, now you want to hear my opinions? Thanks.”
“Please, Zoe. My opinions are that success should be failure, and the American Dream is wrong. All wrong, and it shouldn’t be-“
“No! That is all wrong. The American Dream is all about having and living a good life, and that’s good, and that’s what everyone wants to achieve.”
Marcus smirked. If Zoe went on with her perspective of the American Dream, it would cause great controversy between the people of America, perplexing them. It would muddle up their clear desire and definition of the American Dream, so that they would choose for themselves. Americans argued and discussed this almost everyday and everywhere, agreeing with others and disagreeing with another set of people, causing more confusion.
Over time, the American Dream, was completely rippled up. Just a cloudy memory of every American’s former life.
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Olivia Chen
Malala Yousafzai is my role model due to her unwavering belief in the power of education and her incredible courage in the face of adversity. One of the most notable moral and ethical dilemmas she faced was when the Taliban targeted her for advocating for girls’ education. After surviving a gunshot to the head, Malala had to make a difficult choice: retreat in fear or continue her fight for education against all odds. Her decision to stand firm and amplify her voice despite the risks demonstrated her profound moral conviction and dedication to justice. Despite the immense danger, Malala persisted in advocating for education and women’s rights, making her my role model because of her unwavering commitment to her beliefs and her determination to create positive change in the world.
An example of when I experienced something like her was when I was doing a group project with people who weren’t exactly my best friends. They argued about the backgrounds of our slideshow and the teacher was very angry at us for not getting any work done. I quickly managed to get them to agree on one thing and when we presented, it turned out very good.
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_huashang66
16 year old Zoe Chen materialised onto the stage, as she stared at an actor with her deathly, blank eyes. She was usually considered a ghost or a ghoul or “it” due to her pail skin. She watched the actors as they reenacted the American dream in the external theatre where anything could happen. But every word she wrote on the old, jaundice parchment, she felt something was going wrong. The impact of her writing must have affected the American dream. Soon she realised thought the play that the American dream wasn’t what the government had promised. So Zoe changed the script. No one liked the American dream anymore. At least not in the theatre. They all scolded and admonished at the people that played as the government.
“This is perfect” Zoe said with a miscellaneous grin.
The American dream was broken. At least inside the theatre. But that was just what she thought. Eventually half of America was going trotting up in front of the government building with the old fashioned pitchforks and torches, ready to burn it down. Everyone was rebelling, including some of the government people that didn’t like the idea in the first place.
It was perfect, perfect way to break the American dream. She watched as her work went to plan. Still writing on her parchment, she made everyone in a place 50 miles away in America rebelled against it too.
“So far so good” she whispered wickedly in a dark, unpleasant voice. The American dream was broken. Just like any person writing a story, Zoe would end the conflict in a violent manner. She quickly scribbled down a paragraph full of words which made the government use cannons and rifles.
“Open fire!” Shouted the leader of the American army.
Many people were shot as the government building collapsed into dust. In the end there were only the rebellious, some of the government and a very worn down, grounded government building. As they all recovered from the dust there were many whispers of confusion, regret and vengeance to the soulless bodies. Zoe had done her work. She decided to let the rest of them go from her chaotic hands of twisted, brutal insanity. Then she left the external theatre, free of suspicion and guilt on what she had done, happily going on with the rest of her day. And that was when she was 16 years old.
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_Jessica Xie
HW
Scholarly W6 T3 writing homework
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Ting Zhang
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.
ANSWER:
My role model is Malala Yousafzai. She is inspirational because she stood up for girls to have the right to be educated and have the same opportunities as boys. At the age of 15, Malala got shot by the Taliban’s because she stood up to them. Although that didn’t stop her. She kept on trying and never gave up, even though she was wounded she still fought for what she believed in and what she though was right. After that she became an international symbol of the fight for girls’ education. She stood up to the Taliban’s as they restricted girls to be educated in her home country of Pakistan. Since then, she has become a voice for education and equality for all around the world. A moral or ethical dilemma I’ve faced is when I’ve had to choose between some of my friends in a lot of things. For example, when we’re choosing teams for a sport, say soccer for example. I can’t decide between my friends because there all good, but I don’t want to pick favourites because they are all my friends.
WEEK 5 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)
Sixteen-year-old Zoe Chen emerged from the shadows in the caliginous nightmarish theatre, the ghastly mist of the departed. On stage, a man in a rumpled suit was mid-monologue: Willy Loman, acting like the cog in the wheel of corporate America. ‘This isn’t right, ‘ Zoe muttered, her critic’s instincts flaring. ‘Willy’s motivations are all wrong!’ As if in response, Willy faltered, his character shifting before her eyes. In the real world, a thousand miles away, a salesman decided not to take that soul-crushing job, and the fabric of the American Dream rippled.” On the side of the stage, Marcus, a budding African American theatre critic, found himself watching Linda Loman intensely like he was watching a movie. Linda Loman dreadfully pled to her sons. ‘Attention must be paid, ‘ she insisted, but it was like a blank monotone that fell straight to the floor – not quite reaching the audience. ‘The emotional core is missing, ‘ Marcus whispered, and suddenly, Linda’s performance intensified, her pain palpable. Across America, countless overlooked spouses felt a sudden surge of validation. A few minutes later, when the next scene came, they discovered something big, huge that would change their life. In the back corner of the stage Aisha, the biggest theatre critic of all muttered something to herself. ‘The tension is all wrong, ‘ she mused. ‘It’s not just about disappointment, it’s about shattered illusions!’ As she spoke, the scene before her transformed, the air crackling with a new, electric hostility. In living rooms nationwide, parents and children began difficult, long-overdue conversations about expectations and truth. “Woah, what is happening in here?”
Everyone huddled close towards the seats and sat down with a big bang. Suddenly they could see a whole view of outside, which they had never seen before. Conversations, fights, screaming, problems were encasing her in a big box, everything around them was starting to make sense. “Guys, this here,” Linda said as she pointed around the screen, “This is the REAL American Dream, and it is not a good one.”
“Everything we did, every move we made did this,” Linda said.
“No, that can’t be true,” Zoe said.
“Oh, it is real, remember when Willy said the wrong lines and did the wrong movements, there was a small rumble across the room and then that was when the glass broke, remember?” Linda replied. Willy heard his name and stared at us. “How could that have been a coincident.” Everyone looked at each other, and realised, they had all been fed a lie. “Guys I think we have to fix this,” said Zoe, “We’re responsible for this and we must fix it,” Zoe looked around and everyone nodded.
“Although, how do we fix this, we could just make things worse,” said Aisha.
“Well, maybe if we do the opposite of what caused this then everything will be fixed.” Zoe suggested.
“Yeah, it’s worth a shot.” Replied Willy, who finally came and joined the circle. “Maybe if we try doing all the scenes right for once because it started when we did the scenes wrong so doing it right would be the opposite of it.” Everyone nodded and grabbed their scripts and headed backstage. After a few moments everyone was ready to begin. It took a few tries but in the end they finally did it. They looked around, then they looked outside towards the cities. Everything looked the same, but suddenly the lights went out and everything outside was pitch black. “What happened, did it work?” Zoe asked
“I don’t know, but lets see.”
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Annabelle Tung
16 year old Zoe Chen walked in the enigmatic theater. She was considered as an apparition because her body was translucent. Her parents and other people that knew her called her a ghost because her parents were ghosts. If she listened closely, she could faintly hear the sounds of Willy whispering, as she finally got fed up with all of his incorrect movements. They were acting for the American Dream play which is that everyone has freedom and peace.‘ Willys movements are all wrong and he is not passionate about this play, you need to talk to him,’ she moaned. They continued as though she hadn’t said a word.
Willy, on the other hand, purposely made his moves weaker and heavier, which made Zoe even more furious. After some shouting and arguing, everything was back to normal. Willy was making his moves robust and energetic, and Zoe was happy.
‘What even is the American Dream,’ Willy asked.
‘It it where everyone has freedom and respects each other,’ Zoe replied.
‘So what about money and fame?’
‘That kind of stuff doesn’t matter in life, all you need is happiness and freedom.’
Zoe started to wonder if this American dream would actually become successful and if the world could finally be like it. But there are some places in the world where there are bad leaders of the country who control everyone. These places are obviously doing it for a reason, to make things fair. Not everyone can listen to America, and do what they want, even if it makes the world a better place.
An argument began to form with about five people. Zoe could hear phases such as ‘ The American Dream is real,’ and ‘No it isn’t.’ It gradually escalated and became more intense as people were getting shoved and pushed.
Protests began and a small amount of the population began to say that the American Dream will never come true, whereas some were saying that it will eventually come true.
Zoe was sitting on the fence, she couldn’t decide which side to pick. Sometimes she would fall to one side of the fence, and then fall to the other side. This was a life long decision that she couldn’t figure out which side to choose. 🙂
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Shane Chee
Hello, my writing homework for week 6.
Thank you.
Xiaoyuan Huang
Y5T3 Week 6 Zoom Scholarship Writing Homework_Xiaoyuan Huang
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pathuang@hotmail.com
Here is my homework 😊😊
America Dreams
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Prisha
As Zoe Chen sat in the dim, hauntingly lit theater during a particularly intense scene of Death of a Salesman, she felt an eerie shift in the atmosphere. The play had already drawn her deep into its tragic narrative, but now, something more profound seemed to be happening. It was as if the boundary between the stage and reality had begun to blur, and Willy Loman’s presence was transcending the confines of the performance.
Willy’s ghost appeared on stage—not in the literal sense of a spectral apparition, but as a powerful, almost palpable embodiment of his essence. As he grappled with the weight of his failures and the echoes of his unfulfilled dreams, Zoe felt an uncanny sense that Willy’s spirit was not confined to the world of the play. His struggles, his anguished pleas, and his poignant reflections seemed to transcend the boundaries of art, manifesting as a ghostly reminder of the broader disillusionment he represented.
The way Willy moved through the scenes, haunted by his own delusions and failures, created an atmosphere thick with a sense of otherworldly presence. Zoe watched as Willy’s desperate attempts to reconcile his idealistic dreams with his grim reality gave him an almost spectral quality. His dialogues, filled with regret and longing, reverberated beyond the stage, touching something deeply resonant in Zoe’s own experience.
In moments of intense confrontation, Willy seemed to interact with more than just the characters around him. His conversations, laden with a haunting mix of hope and despair, felt as if they were directed at the audience itself, confronting them with uncomfortable truths about the American Dream. The boundary between Willy’s internal struggle and the external world seemed to dissolve, making his plight feel like a universal lament.
Zoe could almost see his ghostly form wandering through the remnants of his shattered dreams. The set, with its fading colors and crumbling edges, seemed to echo Willy’s disillusionment. The flickering lights and somber tones of the stage amplified this spectral presence, making it clear that Willy was more than just a character; he was a symbol of every broken promise and every shattered ideal.
Zoe tried to communicate with the ghost knowing the American dream had collapsed. This ghostly figure of Willy Loman extended beyond the stage, impacting Zoe’s own understanding of his character. She began to see his story as a haunting allegory of the American Dream itself—a dream that promised so much but ultimately left many in despair. Willy’s spectral presence served as a powerful reminder of the dream’s failures, its illusions, and its impact on those who chased it with hope and fervor.
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danhongsun2005@gmail.com
The Critic’s Crucible: Recreating the American Dream
Zoe Chen materialised on the stage, darkness surrounding her like aura. She was translucent, her skin was pallid, her eyes were hollow and her clothes ragged. The air was clammy with hints of eeriness. The shattered lights above blinked rapidly. The curtains with paranormal patterns fluttered constantly. Other mysterious figures were on the stage, performing. In the corner of the theatre, Zoe Chen discovered a melancholy man. He wore a lustrous tuxedo. His hair was smooth and smelt like cherry blossoms. Tears trickled down his cheeks. He was bawling and tucked his head into his arms.
Suddenly, he started to recite Willy Loman’s lines. Zoe Chen was filled with loathe. Her sturdy teeth were grinding each other. Zoe Chen’s critic instincts kicked in. She proclaimed that Willy Loman’s motivations are absolutely erroneous. The man scrubbed his tears and stared at Zoe Chen. The departed Willy Loman emerged from the shadows of the curtains. Her body illuminated light, which was peculiar in a place of sorrow. Zoe Chen was petrified. She ambled away. She had just showered in shock. Thousands and thousands of miles away, a salesman refused a soul crushing job, and so the American Dream faded.
Zoe Chen and Marcus were starting a debate against each other about the American Dream in a vast, ethereal, glistening emerald green room. “This is the key to interpret Willy Loman’s inaccuracies about the American Dream”! explained Zoe Chen. “The whole American Dream itself is wrong”! exclaimed Marcus. The two blurted statements at each other promptly. People form all over the developed country started to question the American Dream. Was it true or a false accusation. This thought ran through their minds like how legs run on a track.
WHOOSH! Zoe Chen found herself with the ghost Lee Strasberg. He wore a brown top hat, polished shoes that glimmered in the stage lights, a durable black jacket and an one eye spectacle. He told Zoe Chen that Willy Loman’s definition of the American Dream was not incorrect but he needed to redefine it. A jolly grin spread across Lee Strasberg’s face. He was gleeful that Zoe Chen had understood the truth about the American Dream. This nation’s dream was being hefted by Zoe Chen. She cropped up back with Marcus but this time a lot of America’s population was with them.
“We cannot tell these people that happiness and health is the only essential thing or else we would have a country with no ambitions or goals” said Zoe Chen. Lurking in the shadows, someone suggested “Why choose, when you could just rewrite the American Dream from the beginning”. Out of the gloom, came the astonishing Playwright. He had hair, blanketed by gel, his eyes were a vibrant blue and his smile was out of the world. Zoe stepped upon the stage, all the people’s eyes were glued to her.
A creepy chill was sent down her spine. Zoe Chen knew she had to be bold. She took a deep breath. Zoe Chen felt like an insignificant pebble but then a thought occurred to her mind that insignificant pebbles can change the world. Every word she spoke reshaped American history. “Willy Loman’s American Dream is true but there is more to it. Americans need happiness because money can only buy you stuff but it cannot purchase happiness. Secondly, Americans need to care about health as well. With bad health, we would be in agony.” People cheered and agreed with the new American Dream. Zoe Chen was filled with delight and a sense of recognition.
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Bhupender _
Role Model:
My role model is someone who served and contributed to the world not only with great achievements he reached by himself, but for the good of others around him. This man is Louis Pasteur. Under an immense burden of societal expectations, Louis Pasteur strived to be one of the people who would be a gamechanger for the entire world, saving countless lives. Now here’s some backstory. Since Edward Jenner had figured out most of the smallpox situation and created a vaccine, no one cared about anything anymore. While there were still dangerous sicknesses like rabies, polio and cholera, no one cared. That’s when Louis Pasteur stood his chance against viruses, creating many beneficial vaccinations. Some of them include anthrax and fowl cholera, but most importantly his rabies vaccine. How did he get all of this. Through determination. When critics mocked his ‘idiotic’ experiments, Louie Pasteur did not give up, instead he left the good, comfy zone, and went for the great. And I think that this sheer determination and maybe even stubbornness concluded in this life-saving vaccination that would benefit mankind for centuries to come. That’s what I believe I can achieve as well and Louie Pasteur is a great example.
Writing:
The American Dream
My Dear Beloved Diary,
I, Zoe Chen, a budding sixteen-year-old teenager, metamorphosed into the sinister theatre, brimming with the lifeblood of America and glowering with heart-wrenching eeriness. Dancing silhouettes of ghoulish shadows petrified me, frozen, lost in time, as if I had stared into the snakes of Medusa. On the vast timber stage, there stood a man donned with an unkempt suit, called Willy Loman. There was something gravely wrong. “Don’t give up!” I cried, “You’ll find your fruits of labour only AFTER you labour!” Seconds later in California, a man lost all his focus on his American Dream, a situation I could feel in my ripping veins. Stirring with macabre intolerance, it ripped the roots of the ‘American Dream’ that had been planted inside the man’s thought. He became a hamster stuck in a roulette of mortgages, financial ruin and bankruptcies.
Marcus, a virtuoso theatre critic emerged into the room, materialising right beside me. “You’re Zoe right!” he exclaimed, “C’mon, help me fix this situation!” Bewildered of this nonsensical randomness, I babbled nonsense back to him. I still feel embarrassed by this today. There was one goal in our straightforward minds though, the American dream was not just success, money and authority, it should be spread across multiple aspects such as education, children, family, well-being and gratitude.
“We must need to understand Willy’s tragic flaw!” Marcus pointed.
“Lack of emotion?”
“No.”
“Neglecting his capabilities?”
“Obviously not, Zoe!”
“Well, what is your BRILLIANT idea?” I mused in irony.
“I get it!”
“Get WHAT?”
“The flaw is the American Dream itself!” Marcus screamed, loud enough for someone in China to hear, “We must fix the thinking of Willy and the whole of America!”
I sat there, traumatised while watching the looming, inevitable conclusion of the story. At the climax, me and Marcus stood up in somewhat kind of defence, exclaiming, “This has to be changed, Americans! A true dream is well-being, health, family and gratitude!” The crowd nodded in acknowledgement, then shifting their eyes to Willy. As I watched the crowd slowly turn into a mob, I left the scene, knowing that even though you may revolutionise a new era, there will still be chaos.
Thank you for checking all our writing
🙂 bye
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Damon Yuan
https://docs.google.com/document/d/1lPCi2Pl5S6W6RWcw377O3RKEniG3QKsdoEWcKFb7JDU/edit?usp=sharing
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Angus
I have finished:
16 year old Zoe Chen materialized into the dim
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tracyz0104@gmail.com
Writing Homework
Scholarly W6
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oliverzhang
The American Dream’s Fate
Zoe emerged from the misty entrance as her sunken, alabaster face materialised from the shadows. Her slim, black hair tightly pulled back in a ponytail, empty sockets and bloodless cheeks embraced in her face. Bony hands trembled as she reached for her precious book tucked in her coat. “Here, take this. It’s the original copy of the play.” She rasped. A hand reached out from the dark. “Thank you. You may sit here.” It replied.
The lights faded out and the show began. “That’s not how the play is supposed to begin. They aren’t supposed to have that motivation.” Muttered Zoe as she skimmed the first page of the book. And at the tip of the final word, as if they had affected the actor’s movement, he faltered on the stage. In another world, a billion lightyears away, a salesman rejected a soul crushing job, the life line of the American Dream crippled under his hands.
“Why did he do that?” Exclaimed Zoe.
“I’m not sure but the only way to truly know is to become him.”
Zoe let his body wrap around her’s, soul and heart replacing mine, one for one. She felt all the pain and burden that he had suffered all this time. She released the body. “What if his tragedy isn’t failure, but what if it’s his unfulfilled dreams, and his inability to redefine his success?” Zoe claimed. Across America, a billion light years away, bolted up teenagers who had recovered from their syndromes and started laughing.
“Did you see his expression as he fell? He had this grin on his face, like this whole thing was a fraud! Maybe that’s the key to why this happened. As if she spoke the truth, the actor’s house turned into a key of aspiration. In the world far beyond reach, countless people questioned the meaning of success.
“I’m sure that he shouldn’t have faltered on stage though.” Exclaimed Zoe as they both emerged from the exit. “Maybe this whole thing is tied to another whole world!” And with that word spoken, the universe rumbled with anger as the American Dream collapsed under its weight.” A scream of anguish shook the world. People realised that the American Dream was a fraud. Nothing of it was real. What really was success is getting what you want, and it could be as simple as trying to hit a ball with a bat. Success, man people thought, didn’t just have to be getting a job, children, etc. It was about filling what you want to fill. And that was the end of the American Dream.
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Tina205
A role model that I look up to is Medgar Evers. Evers was a civil rights activist and a soldier who was NAACP’s first field secretary in MIssissippi. I look up to him because even though he suffered a lot, he managed to make a great change in the enforcement of voting rights. He has been resilient in many times when he got discriminated against. He has been my role model because he has shown to be able to bounce back and be resilient and I have implemented his ways of bouncing back and it has worked well. For one instance, when I got teased when I was in year two by the year fives, I was able to bounce back resiliently and get on with the day. This is why Medgar Ever is my amazing role model.
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Tina205 (1)