News from the Senior Department

Message from Mrs Wright

What struck me was not only the wide range of skills the Top Formers have, but also the confident way in which they demonstrated them to their peers. Ably led by their very entertaining compere, Josh Davies, the message from Top JB was strong. We all have different skills and talents and we shouldn’t be afraid to show them and to be proud.

Top Form English

This half term, the Top Form are studying the play, Refugee Boy by Lemn Sissay.

The play has been adapted from Benjamin Zephaniah’s novel, Refugee Boy (2015). It relates the story of Alem, a boy from war-torn Ethiopia, who finds himself alone in London, seeking refugee status as his parents believe this will be the safest option for him.

Pupils have engaged thoughtfully with the topic and they have produced some sensitively crafted writing in response.

Enjoy reading Hector and Edward’s efforts below:

Edward

Refugee camp ; isolated refugee camp, I abandoned my homeland, I am now rootless and unshielded, torn away from my own home and people like a piece of paper ripped out of a damaged book, like a rotten leaf falling off a tree, as the last person to board the boat

Cross ocean: relentless rocking of the boat, rejected from society, looked down upon, exhausted, frightened, starved, like a pinball in a pinball machine moved across the ocean,

Landing where you want to be: like a cat that has been left out in the rain, I was bedraggled, famished and alone, running from the law or home because it is the safest thing to do

It was like an abandoned rubbish dump, damp, rotting and merciless. Unlike the old homeland, lush full of fields of joy and love, before the continuous drought, before the deadly famine, and before the inevitable war. My homeland turned into a rotting leaf on a lush tree, hanging by ever so small a thread, looking at the ground of death below. I am now rootless, torn away like a piece of paper from a damaged book. I am in an isolated refugee camp awaiting my fate.

I am boarding the sticky, grimy, overcrowded, unstable thing the traffickers call a boat. Setting off like a pinball in a pinball machine moving across the slicing ocean waves. It was deadly silent, all you could hear was the pitter patter of the rain on the water which was better than bombs on the land. The patient abyss of the ocean waiting to swallow you whole. You could feel the gooey algae slip through your fingers as you touched the so-called boat. Then again I couldn’t feel too much as everything was numb and cold. I couldn’t even feel fellow outcasts crowded together moving along with the relentless rocking of the boat. Children crying, some without parents, starving and exhausted like every last one of us, waiting for the ocean to take us or for the promised land.

We landed unlike the other two unstable boats. We hit jagged rocks, which cut you to the bone and the salt sea bleed into the cuts to increase the pain. Some people were badly injured. We had been finally thrown into a sandbank . Now the sand and salt covered the cuts. The ocean hasn’t taken me but it has poisoned me. Eventhough I have landed the ocean still may win. Then I knew we were the lucky ones even though we felt like an abused cat that had been left out in the rain.  I was bedraggled, famished and alone, running from the law and home because it was the safest thing to do.

Hector

The sky was grey, rain poured down onto the choppy angry ocean. I sat with my arms curled around my legs, shivering relentlessly as we divided up and down over giant waves. To my side i saw a crying baby in a scared mothers arms, the shrill of the baby’s wail was like an alarm clock, snapping us all back to reality. Looking around, i saw scared faces, with piercing eyes- darting about, searching for something to focus on, something to distract. Water splashed into my face, the cold crisp tang of the salt left a zing on my skin.

The boat was fairly big, but people were packed in from left to right like a school of fish in a net, entrapped and not able to escape. I couldn’t move, my shoulders were cemented and wedged between two others, our bones crushed against each other, bruising at every jostle and nudge. We all moved in sync with the waves, crashing and tumbling down.

As the distance between the land and me increased, I saw the distance between me and my normality get bigger. I am an outcast, isolated, there is nowhere now where I belong- everything is a blur, a nightmare  that I am desperate to wake up from.

A Christmas Carol performance in St Albans. 01 – 23 December 2022

Lots of you may have been to the amazing open air performances at the Roman Theatre in St Albans over the summer. This Christmas, OVO Theatre Company have put together a production of A Christmas Carol.

It is a site-specific performance which means the audience will be lead round the location by Scrooge. Along the way, you will also meet The Cratchits, Tiny Tim, The Fizziwigs and many other colourful characters – along with a few ghosts and ghouls who will try to point Ebenezer on a better path.

This would be a perfect outing for any potential Drama scholars and Year 6 pupils who are currently studying A Christmas Carol in English.

Tickets can be booked here

Art News

Sports News

Congratulations to Stanley, Gold Medal Trampolinist!

Stanley (Top Form) competed on Saturday in the end of season regional trampolining championship finals in the 11-12 year old age group in Stratford at the Olympic Park.

He competed in a number of regional tournaments across the country during 2022 to qualify, travelling as far afield as Newcastle. We are thrilled to share with you that Stanley won the gold medal on Saturday and next season will be competing in national tournaments which will give him the chance to break into the GB squad.  Watch Stan in action here

Congratulations from everyone at Beechwood Stan – we can’t wait to hear how you get on!

Notices

Notice for pupils and parents with early morning music commitments

From the Senior Library

The Miraculous Sweetmakers: The Frost Fair by Natasha Hastings

Hastings’ debut novel combines fantasy and history to create a memorable winter’s tale.  Set in 1683 when it was so cold that the Thames froze, and the inhabitants of London were able to hold a fair on the thick ice, this novel weaves authentic historical facts with a glorious ‘baddy’ in the shape of Father Winter. 

When her brother dies from an asthma attack Thomasina’s life becomes grief laden and much harder, as she must work in the family bakery in his stead, whilst also looking after her ailing, bed-ridden mother. In an attempt to bring back Arthur, Thomasina is drawn to a mysterious magician. Only the magician is also a trickster who takes her memories whilst seeming to move the goalposts of the promised results. It becomes clear that she must solve the magical mysteries that surround her for both her and her family’s sake.

HEAD’S COMMENDATIONS

Congratulations to this week’s recipients of Mr Balfour’s Commendations: