On Friday the 3rd of August, 9 Room 8 children went to a Leadership forum. At the course there were visitors who spoke to the audience and the kids got morning tea. Not only Fitzroy School went, there were a whole lot of kids (roughly 6oo). One of the highlightswas when some kids got on stage and did some dancing and won Mcdonalds and Itunes vouchers. One lucky girl from Toko School won an Ipod Touch and $60 worth of Itunes. Fitzroy School is very lucky as we have one talented girl Keana Fox who went up on stage to thank Lisa Tamati.
The purpose of the Forum was to encourage and inspire the leaders of the next generation. Our group especially liked what Lisa Tamati had to say because you knew what she had done was real and amazing, even with bad asthma. She spoke well, had heaps of confidence and was full of interesting facts and opinions.
These are some of the visitors quotes:
Learn to love learning - Hekia Parata
Dont listen to can't, you can - Jamie Fenton
A CHAMPION is someone who gets up, even when they can't - Glenn Anderson
Take the next step - Lisa Tamati
Age is no barrier - Lisa Tamati
BE THE BEST YOU CAN BE - Lisa Tamati
Enjoy the choice, its yours to make - Mike Brewer
Friends- a dog won't carry your coffin - Mike Brewer
Thursday, August 16, 2012
Chris Cairns visits
Chris Cairns, former NZ cricketer, came to talk to us about Railway Safety. His sister Louise had been killed on a railway track in Christchurch. He had a saying ' Use your brains, tracks are for trains' and talked to us about how to be safe around tracks and trains. He had a quiz where one of the juniors eventually won out of the whole school, because she wouldn't sit down! Daily News photographers were there and at the end of the talk took several photos with the school behind Chris and his railway people.
Jack Shearer scores big time with Chris Cairns |
Thursday, August 9, 2012
New Zealand Post Awards
Four Room 8 kids each sent a poem to the New Zealand Post Schools Writing Competition. We have all our fingers crossed for these kids, hoping that the poems will be published:
PLASTIC
The fake plinky plastic was let loose
While drifting away
In the crowded jar
Of moving jam.
The translucent material
Burns a lot of her weight off
When she glides
In the sacred sky.
The rubbish man
Has a gob full of trouble
While trying to fetch
The teasing pest.
It runs like a fly.
A chicken taste
Springs off the plastic
Like a bird rebounding
Off a window.
The deafening chuckle sounds like the light house’s fog horn.
Its dreadful.
Unfortunately
The plastic spreads
AROUND the WORLD
Swimming down sewers,
Floating down drains.
It gets filthy
Through that process.
You should be glad
This object is not you.
I predict that she's getting old
Because she’s forming wrinkles.
I'm hoping
She’s not sick
A bit pale
Looking at her skin on the outside.
Its hard to believe
That this translucent fabric
Is born under the sea
In a bed of oil.
By Ruby
Rose
Fine delicate layers PLASTIC
The fake plinky plastic was let loose
While drifting away
In the crowded jar
Of moving jam.
The translucent material
Burns a lot of her weight off
When she glides
In the sacred sky.
The rubbish man
Has a gob full of trouble
While trying to fetch
The teasing pest.
It runs like a fly.
A chicken taste
Springs off the plastic
Like a bird rebounding
Off a window.
The deafening chuckle sounds like the light house’s fog horn.
Its dreadful.
Unfortunately
The plastic spreads
AROUND the WORLD
Swimming down sewers,
Floating down drains.
It gets filthy
Through that process.
You should be glad
This object is not you.
I predict that she's getting old
Because she’s forming wrinkles.
I'm hoping
She’s not sick
A bit pale
Looking at her skin on the outside.
Its hard to believe
That this translucent fabric
Is born under the sea
In a bed of oil.
By Ruby
Rose
Wrap around the sprinkling nozzle
Crimpled layers whisper
Unbelievable secrets
From a fine beautiful face
Rose blossoms happily
Proud to show off
Her gorgeous deep red skin tone
She dances to the rhythm
Of the wind, swaying gently
Dreaming of a miracle
Beware of her sour bitter taste
And the sharp pointy spikes
That emerge from a thin green body
Rose uses her thorns
To prick the hands
That try to pick
The life out of her
By Keana
CRICKET BALL
The apple-like ball,
Creates an illusion of movement,
As it speeds towards me,
Like a steam train.
A pattern of string,
Encases the ball,
Around the middle,
Like a python squeezing its prey
It tastes bitter and dull,
Like a droning voice,
And it smells like a wealthy man’s shoe.
It’s smooth like a precious stone,
That has been on the riverbed,
For thousands of years.
By Jack
Pencil Sharpener
Scratch scratch!
Each turn causes the wood
to RIP right off!
But the battle isn’t over
But the battle isn’t over
The pencil needs to avoid
the HUGE blade
the HUGE blade
of the sharpener.
The human
The human
spins the sharpener again
but now the pencil is getting very weak.
Rip!
One more spin…
The battle is over
The sharpener wins!!
By Jake
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