Week 6 Writing Homework
Writing Prompt:
Redo last week’s homework.
‘Classrooms should replace traditional desks with standing or “movement” stations.’
Craft arguments that demonstrate intricate causal relationships, compelling evidence, and rhetorical mastery.
Please upload your homework as a comment below:
- Due Date : September 2, 2025
- Feedback will be shared in 3-5 days
50 thoughts on “Week 6 Writing Homework”
The air in the terminal was a heavy, stale mix of coffee and nervous energy. Leo leaned against a polished stone pillar, his knuckles white where he gripped his bag’s strap. He watched the arrivals board, its bright, digital numbers a flicker of disquiet against the cavernous gloom. Seven years. A chasm measured not just in time but in silence. He hadn’t known what to expect from this moment, but the heavy knot of dread in his gut was a chillingly familiar feeling. The last passengers from the Boston flight began to trickle out, and Leo’s breath caught. Their hollow footsteps echoed on the tile floor like a slow drumbeat, growing closer. His gaze darted across the thinning crowd, searching. And then, he saw her.
Clara hadn’t changed as much as he’d thought. A few more lines were etched around her eyes, but her smile was the same—a little tired, but genuine. The rattle of her suitcase handle against the tile was a familiar sound he hadn’t realized he’d missed. She stopped a few feet away, her eyes scanning the crowd before locking on his.
“Leo?” she said, her voice a little breathy, like she was holding back a sob.
“Mom,” he managed. The word felt foreign, too big for the small space between them.
A silence stretched, filled only by the distant announcements. He wanted to say, “I missed you,” but all he could manage was a foolish observation. “Your hair,” he blurted out.
A small, genuine laugh escaped her. “Yours is longer. It used to be a little boy’s bowl cut. Things definitely change.”
The laughter faded, replaced by a more serious expression. Her eyes, the exact same shade of brown as his, glistened with unshed tears.
“I know I can’t get that time back, sweetheart,” she said, her voice low and steady. “But I’m here now. And I’m not going anywhere.”
Tears welled in his own eyes. The knot in his stomach finally unraveled, replaced by a rushing warmth. He dropped his bag and took a step forward, then another, until he was close enough. He opened his arms, and for the first time in seven years, he was home. Their embrace was tight, a silent conversation of apology, forgiveness, and love that spanned all the years they had lost.
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6-Sophia Zhang
Two diamond studded earrings dangled from my ears, catching the light to dazzle any onlookers. Hearing a set of feet pounding on the weathered pavement with puffing, I twisted away from a runner whose legs were quivering slightly. The way he ran was… familiar, almost, like I had seen it in a past life. The air was heavy with the scent of waterlogged leaves, with a hint of petrichor, dew glimmering on the leaves. But suddenly, the jogger turned back, his face half lit by the sun, the other half silhouetted in shadows. I stilled my trembling hands. I stood up, spine straighter, each vertebrae more alert. I He tilted his face, an ongoing battle raging inside him. A miniscule, incredibly hopeful smile was forming across his face.
“Well, hello, Arianna. It’s…” he stammered, lost for words. But I couldn’t blame him. A few words would never be able to express our conflicts, our seperation, how much time we had been apart for. A few words would get lost in the war, lost in the huge, looming cavern that divided us.
“Father,” I whispered, the word feeling foreign on my tongue.
“Daughter,” he replied, wiping sweat off his forehead. He flexed his muscles as I noticed; he had gotten much burlier. My father, previously a skinny shrimp, had become a muscular man, tanned skin layered with strength. My heart beat more slowly, until it was going at a ‘largo’ tempo. I dropped my gaze, cheeks burning, fingers clumsily interlacing with each other. I remembered the times where I had thought about his futility and inability to protect me.
There was none of that now.
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6-Aria Cui
While the young brain undergoes rapid neurodevelopment, 87% of students remain physically static in conventional classrooms. This paradox—where cognitive growth is stifled by environmental inactivity—demands urgent intervention. Replacing traditional desks with standing or movement stations is not a superficial upgrade; it is an instructive recalibration that aligns educational environments with the physiological, psychological, and social realities of learning.
The causal relationship between physical movement and cognitive function is well-established. Prolonged sitting restricts blood flow, reduces oxygenation, and induces neural fatigue. In contrast, standing and dynamic posturing stimulate circulation, which in turn enhances executive function, working memory, and attentional control. A 2022 study from the University of Melbourne found that students using standing desks demonstrated a 14% improvement in sustained attention and a 9% increase in task completion rates. The cause—movement—directly catalyses the effect: sharper cognition.
This physiological activation initiates a chain reaction. Improved focus leads to deeper engagement with content, which fosters better retention and academic performance. But the ripple effect extends further. Movement stations empower students to self-regulate—choosing when to stand, shift, or sway—thus calming autonomy and metacognitive awareness. In classrooms where students are trusted to manage their bodies, they also learn to manage their minds.
Moreover, movement stations dismantle the one-size-fits-all rigidity of traditional seating. Static desks disproportionately disadvantage learners—those with ADHD, sensory sensitivities, or anxiety—by enforcing stillness as a prerequisite for learning. Flexible workstations, by contrast, accommodate diverse needs without dishonour. This inclusive design not only improves individual outcomes but also fosters a culture of empathy and equity. The cause—environmental flexibility—produces the effect: a classroom where every learner belongs.
Critics may argue that movement invites distraction. Yet this concern confuses motion with chaos. In reality, structured movement enhances discipline. A comparative study across 38 NSW schools revealed that classrooms with movement stations reported fewer behavioural disruptions and higher peer collaboration. The longitudinal reconfiguration—less rigid rows, more open flow—encourages spontaneous dialogue and cooperative learning. The cause—physical openness—leads to the effect: intellectual exchange.
From a rhetorical standpoint, the argument for movement stations resonates across all three persuasive appeals. Backed by neuroscientific research and pedagogical expertise. Logos: supported by quantifiable improvements in focus, retention, and behaviour. Grounded in the lived experience of students trapped in chairs that stifle their bodies and minds. Imagine a child forced to sit motionless for six hours, their legs aching, their thoughts drifting—not from lack of interest, but from lack of oxygen.
Ultimately, the stakes are profound. If we cling to outdated furniture, we risk perpetuating outdated learning. But if we embrace movement, we unlock a classroom that breathes, adapts, and evolves. The cause—replacing static desks with dynamic stations—sets in motion a cascade of effects: sharper minds, stronger bodies, inclusive spaces, and empowered learners. The classroom of tomorrow is not silent and still—it is kinetic, collaborative, and alive.
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6-Varoon
My better version:
It was a quiet afternoon when Emma stood at the bus stop, her fingers twisting nervously around the strap of her backpack. The bus was late, as it always was, but today it felt different. Today, something that had once felt impossible was about to happen.
The bus rounded the corner, and her heart skipped a beat. She took a deep breath, her throat tightening, but she stepped forward anyway. The doors creaked open, and there she was—her mother, standing on the steps, looking exactly the same. Emma’s breath caught in her chest.
“Mom?” Emma whispered, unsure if she was imagining it.
Her mom’s eyes widened. For a moment, neither of them moved. Then, her mother’s lips trembled into a smile, and she stepped off the bus.
“Emma,” her voice was soft, shaky, as though she couldn’t quite believe it either. “It’s really you.”
Emma’s mouth went dry. She wanted to say something, anything, but the years of silence between them made it hard. There was so much to say, but nothing felt right. So, instead, she did what her heart told her to do—she stepped forward and wrapped her arms around her mother.
Her mom’s arms tightened around her, as if afraid she might disappear again. Emma could feel her mother’s heartbeat against her chest, steady but fast, like her own.
“I’m so sorry, Em. I… I never wanted to leave you,” her mom whispered, her voice thick with regret.
Emma pulled back, wiping away a tear before it could fall. “You don’t have to say sorry. I didn’t understand… but I think I do now. We both had to grow up, right?”
Her mom nodded, tears glistening in her eyes. “I thought about you every day. Every single day. I just didn’t know how to come back. I was scared.” She gave a small, nervous laugh. “I’m still scared.”
Emma smiled, her eyes meeting her mother’s. “I was scared, too.”
For a long moment, they just stood there, the world around them fading into the background. Years of lost time couldn’t be erased in one conversation, but it didn’t matter. The gap between them was already starting to close, one word at a time.
Finally, Emma spoke again, her voice soft but clear. “I’m glad you’re here now.”
Her mother nodded, her smile growing wider. “Me too, sweetheart. Me too.”
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6-Nathan Dou
Here’s my writing
Scholarly W6
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6-Tricia Yi
The Lost Reunion
The sharp, high-pitched chime of the Shinkansen’s arrival cut through the low hum of the station. She looked up from the little food stall where she was buying a bento box, her heart thrumming in her chest. The train doors slid open with a soft sigh, and a stream of people disembarked, a river of dark suits and bright bags. She scanned the crowd, her gaze darting from face to face. It had been ten years, but she’d know him anywhere. His broad shoulders, the way he carried himself. He was taller, she realized, and his hair was longer, pushed back from his forehead. But the smile, a shy, crooked tilt of the lips, was the same.
“Mama…” he said, his voice soft, almost lost in the clamor of the station.
Her bento box slipped from her grasp, hitting the tiled floor with a thud. “Tanjiro…”
He didn’t wait for her to say more, closing the distance between them and wrapping his arms around her. He smelled of rain and something else, a new scent she didn’t recognize, but underneath it was the faint, familiar scent of their home. Her eyes burned as she held him tight, one hand stroking his hair.
“You’re here,” she whispered into his jacket, a statement of profound disbelief and relief.
“I am,” he murmured, pulling back to look at her, his eyes glistening. “I came as soon as I could.” He reached a hand up to her face, his thumb gently wiping away a stray smudge of flour. “You’re older, Mama… your hair is whiter.”
She gave a small, hoarse laugh, trying to keep her voice steady. “And you, you’re not a little boy anymore. You’ve gotten so tall. And you speak Japanese so well.”
“I had to,” he said, his voice dropping. “To get here, I mean. To talk to you. I learned from a book.” He looked around at the bustling station, a stark contrast to the quiet town she lived in now. “It’s different here, Mama… just like you always talked about.”
She just nodded, unable to speak. His presence was all the words she needed. He was here, he was safe, and in the organized chaos of that Tokyo train station, a decade of silence was finally broken.
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6-JASH
done
Felix SUN Week 6 Schoarship Writing
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6-zhuyingdorahotmail-com
Still Here
Two plates on the table, both full of food, but stale cold, as if frozen in time. The top floor was an insect haven, all crumbling wood, webs, and filth. The house was dead silent, but it wasn’t abandoned.
On the bottom floor, a locked, barricaded door was the dungeon of a tormented soul. Her hair hang in ragged, mangy bunches. Bloodshot eyes stared at a never-ending Tik-Tok scroll. Her bank account was slowly sucked dry by the ever-increasing mountain of greasy pizza boxes and soda cans.
Reels of the parenting group she’d joined were flicked before they even started. Children laughed and played. Her haunted eyes were searching for one thing, yet she couldn’t bring herself to type it.
Finally, the algorithm gave her the one thing she craved and feared.
There is 4-year-old dead at Disney World, from a crocodile attack. His single mother refuses to comment. The attack has been deemed as ‘due to unsafe conditions’.
Disney World is currently being sued, their case being that, ‘Our park is safe. It is parents who need to watch their own children. Our staff aren’t lifeguards, and our terms and conditions, written on signs across the park, enforce this.’
As she stared blankly at the screen, something seemed to break in her. Her friends had abandoned her, gave her some cash to look nice, and then deleted her from their contacts. Depressed people often feel that insanity is the only salvation. As the phone switched off, an insane smile dragged its way up her face.
She staggered into the kitchen like a zombie, dragging herself on the musty, disgusting floor until her legs obeyed her. The cracked, torn wood splintered and wounded her feet, but she didn’t care.
She came out of the pantry with a stack of precious hand-made china plates. “Dinner’s ready!” she called, and placed the plates on the table with mock delicacy. Then she pushed them off like a child, and watched them fall with glee.
“Son! I dropped the dinner. Can you just stay upstairs!” she yelled to no one in particular. Scraping her feet on the shattered china, she almost seemed to enjoy it, like people crave the drugs that destroy them.
By the time she was too tired to continue her fantasy, her feet were bleeding heavily and infected. “Oh no! I burned myself making dinner. Son! Stay upstairs.”
She couldn’t bring herself to call for her son, because the shred of life in her still knew he would never come. All those feeling swirled in her, a boiling froth of sadness, culled temporarily by the insanity she sought, and she collapsed on the kitchen floor.
She must have pulled herself up the stairs and onto the top floor when she was out, but all she knew was that she woke up next to a tall tower of boxes in the attic. Woozy, she pushed herself up, cloudiness ironically clearing her mind. Her phone, plus a new shattered screen, lay next to her.
Irresistibly, she swiped the code in automatically, and swiped hazily to the ‘Created’ section. She bumped her hand against the latest one.
A little boy on his mother’s shoulders. “Hey everyone! I have a riddle. My diary is on the taaallest mountain, in my house. If you come over to my house, we can find it and play!”
“Hey everyone! I ha-“
She didn’t even notice she was crying until great heaving sobs wracked her shoulders.
Tallest mountain. She glanced up at the ceiling. The box towered over her like… a…. moun… tain.
She stretched up, knocking over the whole thing at the same time. The topmost box tumbled over, spilling out its treasure. A tiny, blue book with the words, ‘SECRIT! KEAP OWT!” scrawled on it in messy, excited handwriting. A soft hand caressed the cover, flipping it over with gentleness. She gave an almost-smile, and turned the pages to the last entry.
Dear Diry,
Mum say we’re goin on a hoidai HOLIDAY to Disney World! I have to leeve you here. But I’ll still be here with you. I’ll always be here with you. And I’ll come back.
I pwomise!
Lots ov love,
Danny
She could almost hear his pudgy little voice sounding it out. Silver droplets ran down the page, each leaving a dark trail in their wake.
He wasn’t coming back. He was never coming back. And maybe it was time to accept that.
But he was still here.
Please see the attached PDF for the feedback.
6-Anurekha
Done
Traditional Desks
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6-sonya613@hotmail.com
Classrooms should replace traditional desks with standing or “movement” stations –
Imagine a world where all that’s left in the 6 hours for 5 days a week in your life is sitting down, immovable, and listening to the awful drone of the teachers voice that can bore a lion to death a mile away. You can imagine it? Listen to yourself. We’re talking about trying to sit straight for 6 hours, with back and neck problems killing you bit by bit. And if you are out to say, “but what if we sit straight?”, then good luck trying to stay like that the entire time. Every moment of your life spent in that ugly chair and table, with either a straight back – and for safety reasons, you don’t want to stay like that – or a hunched back. And both cause pain. Then there’s the chatter. There are always those kids at the back who throw objects around like it’s a basketball life or death game, and the kids who poke everyone they can find and just talk to each other endlessly – it’s a miracle they don’t lose their voices. And there is absolutely no way in the history of schools in the history of human civilisations that you can forget the teachers teaching. Their voices can cause the sun to run away in fear! They drone on and on, and when you think it’s finally over, you realise only the first half of an hour has passed. When you realise recess is on, you run around and finish your food. When you’re about to start really doing stuff, the bell rings, and all you can think is – REALLY?! WHY??!! Well, there’s actually one simple way to combat all of this. Its. To. Replace. The chairs and tables!!! I know, surprise hit you like a truck. But if we took those nasty things away and replaced them with implemented standing or movement stations, it would be the path to freedom! Students might look forward to school, knowing they won’t be sitting in a prison, rotting away their back and neck with aches and pains. The teachers droning voices might seem to last less, and you could actually have a great break time for once!
It is said that almost 90% of students either feel discouraged or have loads of pain in their body for when they get home. They even had cognitive errors in their work as they didn’t feel any happiness or motivation in school. If we kicked out the chairs and put in the freedom stations, their work and assignments would get better scores, and students wouldn’t need to go home in sorrow that they’re too scared to show.
Please see the attached PDF for the feedback.
6-AryanR
Thomas sat on the creaky, coarse wooden bench. The wind whistled in his ears and leaves brushed his feet before continuing its journey. Thomas looked at the floor, counting every single small rock that was stuck, prisoner to the cement for eternity. The drab train rumbled into view while coughing out ashen grey smoke. Thomas sighed and mustered up all his energy and stood up. His mother, on the other hand, leapt up to her feet immediately. Thomas’s face drooped as the passengers flooded out of the cramped cabins. His face drooped even further when his father stepped out like he owned the world. Thomas’s mother rushed over to meet him whilst Thomas trudged over. His father brushed past Thomas’s mother and barely even hugged Thomas. Thomas’s hands were clenched. Frozen on his sides. Stinging hot tears formed in his eyes.
“Hey kiddo, what’s with the glum face?” Thomas’s father asked, completely oblivious to the steam rushing out of Thomas’s ears.
“You seriously decide to disrupt my amazing life without you, when you get released from jail?”
“What? My release was nothing to do with living with you two!”
Thomas shot his father a dirty look and turned away, seething with rage. His mother quickly intervened before the situation escalated. She chastised Thomas for being so rude to his father and turned to help his father with his bag. Thomas’s fists clenched. He used every single bit of his self control not to punch his father across the face. Then he felt a tear form in his eyes. Not an angry one. Not a sad one. A happy one. He turned to his father and started crying.
“I’m sorry. I missed you still. I was angry at the people who jailed you, not that actual you. I took out my rage on you.” Thomas sobbed.
His father embraced him as Thomas sobbed uncontrollably, his mother came and joined in.
The trio walked off to home, smiling and laughing. Thomas’s story with his father started on the first page. The page Thomas thought would never be filled.
Scholarly scholarship week 6 writing no.1 term 3
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6-Qiaoqiao
Leo’s heart raced as he waited. His fingers nervously tapped against his worn-out jeans. A knot formed in his stomach, twisting like a tightening rope of dread, each loop pulled taut by the weight of unspoken fears and rising tension. Would she keep to her words, to arrive at twilight from New York? Or would she lie to him like the last time he saw her? Passengers started to trickle out, the silvery moonlight illuminating each person’s features. Families hugged. Words of affection rushed through the air.
“Leo?”
He turned. A short woman, with pale skin, ashen hair, and bony cheeks smiled faintly at him. Who was this? Why-? Then, he realised that was his mother. The woman who had left him. The woman who had abandoned her child. The woman that didn’t care. A flood of emotions rushed through his veins.
“You-” He managed, barely able to contain his anger, steam rising from his ears.
“Me,” she smiled. The same quick witted self, he saw. Tsk.
It had been ten years. Ten years since she had given her last words. Ten years of letters unanswered, birthdays missed, calls never returned. Ten years.
A lump formed in his throat. “Mom-” He staggered angrily, the word feeling foreign on his tongue. “Why-?”
“You’ve grown so tall,” she interrupted, like nothing had happened, and this was just a train ride back from work. Yeah, ten years of work without any communication. She poked Leo’s cheek.
“Stop,” Leo complained. He couldn’t bring himself to yell at her, her eyes still heavy with exhaustion and a trace of love he knew before. His expression softened.
“Still the same closed off Leonardo I know,” she embraced him. Leo didn’t know what to do. He hadn’t gotten a hug for so long – was he to lift his arms and hug her back? Or was that too sweet? His hands found their own way, patting his mother on the back – which was awkward, yes, but at least he wasn’t just standing there.
For a moment, everything was so quiet you could hear a pin drop. The answers to his questions no longer mattered in the affectionate silence. What mattered was the mother who had returned, and the son who could finally let go. The people around them faded. And for the first time in years, Leo finally felt whole again.
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6-Jo Gao
scholarly homework
scholarship writing week 6
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6-Tracy-lau
see the doc.
Scholarly Zoom Writing Week 6
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6-Thomas
WRITING HOMEWORK
SCHOLARLY WK 6 TERM 3 🙃
WRITING
SCHOLARLY WK 6 TERM 3 🙃 (1)
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6-Stefanie
Imagine a class of students’ crossed legs trembling on the chair, almost causing them to lose their momentum. Have you ever taken a moment to wonder why the classroom offers traditional tables instead of standing up but if you think more deeply, is it right? With a learning mind, students won’t store information when they’re on a table, unable to move like a frozen statue. Researchers have conducted global studies that have clearly proven standing is more effective for not just their health conditions but also engagement during class time and academics. Truly, standing is more productive unlike sitting on a squashed and cramped chair.
Sitting for long periods is negative for the students health (especially for a growing body), which increases the risk of blood clots and stress no matter how much they exercise.
However, the position from standing allows the blood circulation flow equally and efficiently throughout the student’s body. This not only enables their physical health but mentally in terms of emotions. Around 60 percent of students worldwide have developed mental issues due to being seated on traditional desks. Sitting causes anxiety and stress due to poor posture, affecting their mental well-being
Moreover, standing is more collaborative and interactive. When students are moving freely, it allows them to socialise with each other and share ideas, making them more engaged in the classroom. Traditional desks form barriers, separating students, which causes shyness and solitude. Standing motivates students to be connected with other peers and contribute more in discussions. This approach is beneficial for their teamwork and communication which is mostly active in scenarios, allowing students to problem solve in their daily life.
One compelling reason why standing is more effective for students academics holds true is because they show improved memory, faster processing speed and higher test scores. As oxygen flows in the brain, students stay more alert and consistently concentrated. Instead of students heavy eyed on their desks, standing tends to make them focus and absorb information. It has been studied that more than a quarter of the world of students that have traditional desks had decreased their performances in academics.
Would you rather let students suffocate on their traditional table or let them stand with good quality of health issues, engagement in class and rapid improvement in their academics. There is no longer an option for traditional desks as standing is clearly the winner. Students need an environment where they are free to move and there is one way to solve that -It starts with standing up.
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6-Lihini
Persuasive
Standing desks are better than Traditional desks
Imaging how many years you will be sitting on a chair at school, from Primary school to High school ? You sit on a chair 5 days a week and 4 hours per day. You only get to stand up for less than 2 hours per day during the break recess and lunch time at school. Don’t you feel you cannot concentrate after sitting for too long? This is why I think Standing desks are better than Traditional desks for the following reasons. Firstly, studies show that people are more likely to get sleepy or get bored when they are sitting too long without stand up or movement. Also, for students, they can easily lost attention during class rather than listening to the teachers. In addition, when you sit in the same position for so long, you can develop bad posture. You might be thinking bad posture is easy to correct, but it can be a bad habit and could cause lots of potential health problems such as future injuries, headache and sore body. Also, standing desks can provide more functions than Traditional desks. You can do exercises when using standing desks. You have move space to move around. Standing desks can also create some physical spaces. People are easily to move around without blocking to each other. When someone is on your way, you don’t need to stand up and they are not in your way anymore! Standing desks can also help by reducing fidgeting with: pencils, sharpeners, erasers and other stuff on your desk. Doesn’t your teacher get really mad when you do that? This is why I strongly believe that Standing desks provide more benifits than traditional desks!
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Ariana Huang
Reunited
I stepped onto the platform, heart fluttering, a phoenix soaring in the sky, enjoying its liberty in the cotton candy clouds. I had been to the station a million times, but this time, it felt… different. I joyfully stepped off, watching the train make one last puff of smoke as it travelled down the tracks, as if saying its goodbyes. I grabbed my neckless, phoenix moulded from iron, squeezing hard with my sweat soaked palms. Red, orange and golden specks danced across the shape. I dragged my suitcase easily, suddenly stronger than before. The heavy suitcase that had weighed me down on the trip here now felt weightless.
I surveyed the crowd for any signs of my father – I searched my memories for any traits, but before I found any, I felt a hand on my shoulder. I flinched. I turned around, taking a moment to recognise who he was.
“You’ve… changed,” I stammered. I silently shouted at myself for not saying hello.
The phoenix flipped, its wing poking my hand. I softened my grip.
“Three years is a lot,” my dad whispered
We murmured about recent events, catching each other in our lives and sharing fun facts all the way to our old apartment in the city.
“What happened while I was away?” I quickly asked
“Not much, really. Well, I got promoted twice, and I may have made some minor changes to some things.” My dad replied.
We continued chatting about recent events until my dad broke the flow.
“Nice necklace!”
I stumbled backwards, unaware of my hand encasing the phoenix, blocking its brilliance. I let go.
“I love the detail!” my dad exclaimed
He waited for a few second before saying
“Did you do well at uni?”
I considered for a while, then hesitantly nodded my head.
As we neared our old home, a veil of silence fell over us, as if captivated by the towering apartment. For a brief moment, memories flooded back like a wormhole transporting me to my childhood.
We took the elevator up as if we were unable to speak. We silently strolled to our apartment door, setting our things down.
My dad broke the silence.
“Do you still remember when you were little? You were always causing chaos here.” He chuckled, gesturing towards scratch marks on the wall.
I found a hint of Nutella sauce on the kitchen table, causing an avalanche of memories. I suddenly remembered my dad’s sentimental Nutella treats.
“Can you please make Nutella pizza for dinner? I pleaded. “ Or any other Nutella treat?”
“I’ll try” he replied, a playful glint in his eyes.
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6-Zac Cui
Clean Hands
The low, rattling hum of the ‘drinks’ fridge was the only sound in the muted café noise Leo
had been listening to for ten whole minutes. He breathed in the familiar scent of burnt coffee, a
stark contrast to the faint, sweet smell of stale sugar. In the cramped corner, with its peeling wallpaper and mismatched chairs, felt like a place where time had stopped. The bell over the door didn’t so much chime as jangle, a harsh sound that snagged on the quiet. Leo startled, his hands stilling over the casualty of his wait – a paper napkin reduced to a damp, snowy pile on his saucer. He looked up.
For a heart-stopping second, he saw only a stranger in the doorway, a woman clutching her bag like
an anchor. Then, she tilted her head, and seven years collapsed into a single, sharp intake of breath.
It was her. The face was leaner, the set of her jaw more stubborn, but the eyes hadn’t changed. They
were still the deep, questioning brown that had always seemed to know all his secrets.
His chair scraped loudly against the linoleum as he rose to his feet. “Maya.”
She walked to the table, her movements stiff. She didn’t hug him. She just sat, placing her bag
carefully on the empty seat beside her. “Hello, Dad.”
The silence that followed was something physical, heavier than the greasy air hanging in the room.
In the quiet, the rattle of the old fridge seemed to grow louder, filling the space between their
unspoken words. A waitress appeared, her shoes squeaking faintly on the floor, and they ordered
coffees with a shared, desperate relief.
“How was the train?” he asked, his voice catching slightly. “Long,” she replied, her fingers tightening around her bag. “Gave me too much time to think.” Looking around, she whispered. “This place hasn’t changed at all.”
“No. Still the same burnt coffee.” He tried for a smile, but it felt like cracking plaster. She didn’t smile back. Her gaze fell to his hands, resting on the tabletop. “You stopped building things.”
It wasn’t a question. Leo looked down at his own hands, surprised. They were clean, the nails neatly trimmed, the calluses he’d carried for thirty years faded into pale ghosts. “Not much to build anymore,” he said quietly. “House is too big as it is.”
Their coffees arrived. Maya wrapped her hands around the warm mug, as if to ward off a chill. “I got your letters,” she said, looking into the black liquid. “All of them.”
“I wasn’t sure you would.”
“I have them in a box.” She finally met his eyes, and he saw the flicker of the hurt, stubborn girl he remembered. “I never knew what to write back.”
“You didn’t have to write back,” Leo said, his voice thick. “I just. . . I needed to know if you were okay. And I needed you to know I was. . .” He trailed off, the word catching in his throat. Sorry. It was just too small a word for the gaping chasm between them.
Maya’s expression softened, just a fraction. “Why now, Dad? After all this time, why ask me to meet?”
He took a breath, the air tasting of stale coffee and regret. “Your birthday is next week. You’ll be twenty-five. I remember holding you the day you were born. You were so small all you did was scream.” A real smile touched his lips this time, fragile and sad. “I realise that I’ve been a
ghost for more of your life than I was as a father. I just. . . I didn’t want to be a ghost anymore.”
A tear slipped from Maya’s eye, tracing a quick, silent path down her cheek. She didn’t wipe it
away. She just watched him, her own gaze unwavering.
“I missed you,” she whispered, the words so quiet he almost didn’t hear them. “Every single day, I was so angry. And every single day, I missed you.” Her voice cracked slightly as she spoke. “Some days I’d walk past the hardware store and remember how you taught me to use a hammer. Then I’d remember why I stopped calling.”
The admission shattered the last of the ice. Leo reached across the table, his clean, unfamiliar hand covering hers. It was a clumsy gesture, hesitant and uncertain, but she didn’t pull away. She turned her fingers lacing with his.
“I know,” he said, his voice finally breaking. “Me too.”
They sat like that for a long time, their hands clasped over the chipped Formica as a lone fly buzzed lazy circles under the fluorescent lights. The burnt coffee grew cold beside them, its bitter scent mingling with a new, fragile hope. Nothing was fixed, not yet. But the lock had turned. The door was ajar.
Please see the attached PDF for the feedback.
6-Ethan
Done the second one
Classrooms should replace traditional desks with standing or “movement” stations
Please see the attached PDF for the feedback.
6-Marina.Chen
Through the train’s clear window, Laura’s eyes searched the familiar yet foreign landscape. As she leaned against the smooth window, her breath made fog on it. Laura finally arrived back at her home station after years of being away.
Laura had been away from her beloved family for so long, their figures blurred in her mind, barely remembering the moment when she stepped onto the train to leave. Laura’s memory fogged up, her parents and brother’s identities were distant in her mind. It had been too long since she had seen their faces.
The train eased to a stop and smoke came out of it. People hurried out the doors of the long, windy body. Everyone hugged their family, reunited after a tiring trip. Tears flowed down most faces. Laura, however, was confused about where her parents were, not noticing they were in front of her. Laura’s memory faded away, not realizing it was her parents.
“Laura!” her dad shouted, excited for Laura to come back. Laura immediately stared in her dad’s direction. He was waving rapidly at her, a smile casting on his face. Confused, Laura furrowed her eyebrows, looking carefully in her dad’s eyes. No memory came back to her.
Laura’s dad stepped closer and hugged her tightly. She reacted fast, struggling out of her dad’s arms. “Who are you, you don’t know who I am!” Laura shouted in her dad’s face. She pushed him away and crossed her arms, annoyed.
After she calmed down, Laura looked back, seeing a tear trembling down her father’s cheeks. Her heart softened, feeling envy towards what she thought was a stranger. Something deep inside warned her that this stranger felt too familiar, too caring, which frightened her confused mind. A mix of emotions rushed through Laura’s body all at the same time.
Laura’s eyes started to water too. She didn’t mean to make anyone flood with tears, especially her dad. Laura slowly tip- toed towards her dad, staring into his eyes. Her dad stared back, both were lost in each other’s thoughts and their glimmering eyes.
In that moment, the faint memory started to unfold with colour. A hint of her dad’s face appeared in Laura’s mind. “Laura, it’s me, your dad” he whispered like a mouse, so only she could hear. As soon as Laura heard the word ‘dad’ and made sure her conclusions matched in her mind, she raced to him and hugged him like a teddy bear. Laura’s memories were still fading, but parts started to come back. “I didn’t realise it was you!” she cried, sobbing in tears.
Laura’s dad drove her home. Meanwhile in the car, pieces started to fit together in Laura’s mind. As soon as Laura stepped into the house, she could see herself when she was young and before she left. Tears cascaded down her cheeks as she saw more photographs from her childhood.
Laura’s mind unraveled as she saw the same dining table from years ago. There were different types of food her mother used to cook for her. Laura’s mum and brother stood there, greeting her. All her memories came back, and her heart warmed as Laura munched on the hot, delicious food.
We go to school 6 hours a day sitting on a chair. Some kids figit because they can’t concentrate, your muscles are aching and still your teacher tells you to sit down and work. I’m sure that you would love to stand up right? So this is why you should get a standing desk.
The implementation of standing desks in classrooms can play a pivotal role in promoting physical health and reducing childhood obesity. When students stand, they burn more calories compared to sitting. This increased calorie expenditure, although modest, can accumulate over time and contribute to a healthier weight.
Moreover, standing desks can improve circulation and reduce the risk of developing spine problems. By reducing the amount of time spent sitting, students can alleviate pressure on their spine and hips, leading to better posture and reduced discomfort. These benefits underscore the importance of integrating standing desks as part of a broader strategy to enhance physical wellness in education.
Beyond the physical health benefits, standing desks can also positively impact students’ cognitive functions. Research suggests that standing desks can lead to improved concentration and academic performance. When students are allowed to move freely, they tend to exhibit higher levels of alertness and engagement. This heightened state of awareness can translate into better focus during lessons and improved retention of information.
Standing desks have been shown to provide several benefits for students. They encourage better posture and movement throughout the day, which can improve physical health by reducing the risks linked to sitting for long periods. In addition, research suggests that standing desks can also support better focus and concentration in the classroom. This often leads to improved academic results, as students are more engaged and attentive during lessons.
We go to school 6 hours a day sitting on a chair. Some kids figit because they can’t concentrate, your muscles are aching and still your teacher tells you to sit down and work. I’m sure that you would love to stand up right? So this is why you should get a standing desk.
The implementation of standing desks in classrooms can play a pivotal role in promoting physical health and reducing childhood obesity. When students stand, they burn more calories compared to sitting. This increased calorie expenditure, although modest, can accumulate over time and contribute to a healthier weight.
Moreover, standing desks can improve circulation and reduce the risk of developing spine problems. By reducing the amount of time spent sitting, students can alleviate pressure on their spine and hips, leading to better posture and reduced discomfort. These benefits underscore the importance of integrating standing desks as part of a broader strategy to enhance physical wellness in education.
Beyond the physical health benefits, standing desks can also positively impact students’ cognitive functions. Research suggests that standing desks can lead to improved concentration and academic performance. When students are allowed to move freely, they tend to exhibit higher levels of alertness and engagement. This heightened state of awareness can translate into better focus during lessons and improved retention of information.
Standing desks have been shown to provide several benefits for students. They encourage better posture and movement throughout the day, which can improve physical health by reducing the risks linked to sitting for long periods. In addition, research suggests that standing desks can also support better focus and concentration in the classroom. This often leads to improved academic results, as students are more engaged and attentive during lessons.
The train screeched to a halt, sparks flying gracefully through the air as steel ground against steel. A cold gust swept along the platform as the doors hissed open.
Jack’s breath frosted in front of him. His hands twitched inside his jacket pockets. What if she doesn’t come? What if she forgot me? What if… His thoughts tangled and knotted like the cables overhead. He stared at the flood of passengers pouring out, scanning every face, heart pounding against his ribs.
A shape appeared through the familiar crowd.
“M-Mum?” His voice cracked, barely louder than a whisper.
Her head snapped up. “Jack?”
The world narrowed to that single word, his name.
“OMG, Mum! I haven’t seen you in so long!” he exclaimed, the words tumbling out as if five years of silence had broken in an instant. His throat burned and he could not stop grinning.
He had never seen her smile so wide. Her posture was straighter than he remembered, like someone who had fought storms and survived. For a heartbeat, they just stared, eyes locked across the platform, an unspoken tide of memories crashing between them.
The shy boy skinny as a stick was gone. In his place stood someone broader, taller, shoulders squared with a confidence he never had before. His black hair fell into his eyes as he bent to hold her closer.
“You’ve grown so much, Jack…” she murmured, voice shaking. “Life has changed you in ways I never imagined.”
“You still look like Mum,” he said softly, and for the first time in five years, his voice shook.
Her eyes glistened, then overflowed, tears streaking down her cheeks like rivers breaking their banks. She opened her mouth, but only a sob came.
“I thought…” She swallowed hard. “I thought you might’ve forgotten me.”
“Not a chance,” he said, his voice firm now. “Not in a million years.”
A laugh burst through her tears, shaky and raw. She pulled him into another hug, arms tightening as if she could squeeze the lost years out of existence. His jacket smelled faintly of rain and something foreign, maybe the new city, all the roads he had walked without her, but underneath was the same warmth she remembered.
And for the first time in five long years, neither of them felt alone.
if this works this is my rewrite
I waited hesitantly at the open train door. Did I really want to do this? My eyes darted to the fluorescent orange sign. It read, ‘Melbourne’. I can’t believe I was really here, meeting the person I talked with every day, just on a pixelated screen. My mum’s network was never good, where she lived.
No.
I had to go meet her. I stepped out onto the stoney platform and sprinted down the stairs. Of course, she was there waiting for me. She looked almost furious, having a staring contest with the woman on the poster opposite her.
‘Hi!’ I called out to her, waving my arms enthusiastically.
‘Hi.’ She almost immediately replied.
‘You okay?’ I asked, suddenly worried. ‘You look sad.’
‘No, I’m fine. Come on, we need to go now. Dad’s waiting.’ She quickly pulled me out onto the pathway and we rushed towards our car, where Dad was sleeping.
‘Hi.’ I quickly muttered, as I got into the back seat.
‘What?’ He said, as he slowly woke up. ‘Oh. Hi! Welcome back. How was school?’
‘It was fine.’ I replied, not wanting to tell him about my friends. I was afraid of him being angry. ‘How’s Mum? She hasn’t been looking too well today.’ I asked, sneakily changing the topic.
‘She’s fine too. Just feeling a little bit… overworked?’ Dad answered awkwardly. ‘Let’s just go home.’
Frustrated, I struck first. ‘You guys are hiding something. Why can’t I know?’
‘It’s just… I don’t want to live like this. It’s strange meeting each other every day through FaceTime. We’re considering moving to Sydney. That way this family relationship might not be so awkward.’ My mum finally said.
‘Honey, didn’t we say it was supposed to be a surpr-’
‘We’re moving?’ I interjected excitedly.
‘Yep.’
Classrooms should replace traditional desks with standing or “movement” stations –
Imagine a world where for 6 hours or more of your life, every 5 days, you had to sit at a stiff desk that pains your back and your legs, while also damaging your back in the long term, while a teacher points at a whiteboard and drones on and on for hours on things that would be used better as a lullaby than a school subject? Can you imagine it? You don’t need to. That’s the world we already live in. That’s a problem. Millions, or even billions of children and teenagers are actively adding problems to their health, daily.
There’s also the chatter and the distractions. Students in the back seats, throwing notes and paper airplanes, poking each other with pencils, discussing the marriage of Taylor Swift, and soon everyone forgets that they were even in the classroom learning something. Sitting also makes the teachers seem more boring, and retrospectively. It’s sensible to think that class is boring when everyone is hunched up in their chairs, and the only thing you can think about are the discomfort of the chairs and how the tables edge into the side of your stomach. It is also said that studies show that almost 90% of students either feel discouraged or have loads of pain in their body for when they get home, and they also said that the reason for this was directly that the tables and chairs were uncomfortable and it didn’t support their learning.
These chairs and tables are causing a lot of discomfort, which are impacting their health and learning. There’s an obvious solution to this. To switch normal chairs with ‘standing’ tables. This way, there is less room for distractions, the attention to discomfort is drawn away to the teacher, and they can even get some exercise! This fix is obvious.
The Surprise
It has been five years since Lilly saw her parents.She has not seen them since she was nine.During that time Lilly was exploring the whole wide world with Julie her friend,They also went look for a new high school. They went to several different countries. During that time Lilly was a busy little bee making sure that She and Julie know when to go, not loosing anything and planning hotels and flights . One ordinary day Lilly was walking out of” Lilly and Julie’s” room talking to her friend Julie until…
A stranger approached in front of the Office, looking quite confused. Lilly and Julie never seen this person around the school
“What grade are you in?” Asked the mysterious person
“ I am in year 7.” Julie answered confused
“Oh then I will be teaching you Science for the rest of the year.” She commanded
Lilly’s stomach had butterflies spinning in her stomach ,suddenly the new science teacher looked familiar. Lilly felt like that she has seen the new science teacher before but her head was just exploding with thoughts.
“ What if I am imagining things?, Why does she look similar?” Lilly said quietly to herself.
“Lilly do you remember me?”
Suddenly she knew exactly who.
Mum, is that you?” Lilly questioned curiously
Believe it or not it was Lilly’s mum
“Are you excited that I am teaching you for the rest of this year!”her mum asked
“But where are you going to live ?”
Julie was waiting on the side patiently and quietly like a dog patiently waiting waiting for someone to play with.
Yes, I am sooooo happy!” Lilly yelled with joy
Lilly and Julie’s class also has science today. On the way back Lilly and Julie was hopping, Spinning all the way back to “Julie and Lilly’s room to change and get ready quickly. They ran inside with excitement that Lilly’s mum was going to teach their science class.
The train screeched as it pulled into the station. I stood on my tiptoes, clutching the straps of my backpack, trying to see through the crowd. My stomach felt weird, like I had swallowed a bunch of bees. Reaching in to my pocket I took out a rusty worn out paper. On it were two people playing soccer and laughing.
Then, through the sea of people, I saw him.
He looked different. His hair was longer, his beard was thicker, and he wore a coat that looked too big for him. But it was still him—my dad.
He stopped and looked around like he wasn’t sure if he belonged. Then his eyes found mine.
“Ben?” he said, his voice shaking.
I nodded, but I couldn’t speak yet. I hadn’t seen him in four years. He had gone overseas for work. He said it would only be for a few months, but months turned into years. I had started middle school. I had grown almost a foot. And now he was here, standing just a few steps away.
He crouched down, smiling nervously. “You’ve gotten so tall.”
“You look… older,” I said.
He chuckled a little, then scratched the back of his neck. “I guess I am.”
There was a pause. I could tell he wanted to say more, but the words were stuck.
“Ben,” he said slowly, “I’m sorry I wasn’t here. I missed your birthday… your soccer games… everything.”
I looked down at my shoes. I had been angry at him. For a long time. But right now, I didn’t feel angry. Just… sad. And relieved.
“I missed you,” I said, my voice barely a whisper.
He looked like he might cry. “I missed you too. So much.”
He opened his arms.
For a second, I just stood there. Then I ran into him, hugging him tightly. He smelled like coffee and the cold outside air. But it was a smell I remembered from when I was little.
“I’m not leaving again,” he said, holding me tight. “Not ever.”
I didn’t say anything. I just nodded into his coat, and for the first time in a long time, everything felt okay.
Done!
Week 5 Standing desks over static