On the 13th of August '09 four 8KW students - Hayley Haskell, Amy Sun (me), Robin Carrick and Emily Wong - entered in the WaiMaths Competition involving more than 30 Waikato Teams of Year 8 Students. Hosted at the Hamilton Gardens, these teams of three (and one reserve)take part in this Mathematics Competition hosted every year for Year 7 to High school. It was a tough competition with 20 questions and 45 minutes. Rows of desks with competing teams on each side were placed with the Audience in the middle. The tension was high with Peachgrove creaming up the competition in 20 minutes, getting all the answers right on the first go in the shortest time, thereby ending the Year 7 Competition. Meanwhile, the Year 8 teams were still battling it out with the top teams being within seconds of each other.
But in the end, the best team won.
Do I even need to say who that was?
YES, YOU ARE CORRECT... SOUTHWELL!
With only one point between First and Second and only two points between First and Third, it had been the closest competition yet. There had even been a tiebreaker between Peachgrove and Marion. In the end, the placings sat at
3rd: Marion Catholic School
2nd: Berkley Middle School
1st: SOUTHWELL SCHOOL!
The prize was a $110 Graphic Calculator plus two movie tickets. Perfect! We were the first team to win the Year 8 section since 2003. This is, without a doubt, an amazing achievement (if I do say so myself) and is a great cause for a party.
Winning WaiMaths is a definitely a highlight of the year.
GO SOUTHWELL!
Thursday, August 13, 2009
Monday, July 20, 2009
Hey 8KW
Hey bros, howz the last and final year of Southwell School??? Congrats and well done on all your individual and collaborative achievements. Your the most hooked up kids I know. Enjoy the learning journey and stay true to yourselves!!!!! Luv and hugs E
Monday, June 22, 2009
TV Ad Slurp! Juice Company
Here is one of our videos we made to advertise our Juice Company and Smoothie.
Sunday, June 21, 2009
Smoothie Launch Live:Tuesday 23rd June 2009 10.00am to 11:00am
Watch 8kw launch their Smoothies live on ustream
Stream videos at Ustream
Stream videos at Ustream
Monday, June 15, 2009
Tuesday, June 2, 2009
An Unremembered Tune By Christina Wilson
Winner of the New Zealand Post Book Awards Short Story Competition for the Waikato and King Country: 9-12 year old category.
An Unremembered Tune by Christina, 12
Harold Spiller was inside All Hallows Chapel that night… although no one knew it.
He sat in the shadows where no one would see him, and whilst the congregation buzzed with noise, he waited. The Reverend Edward Strange approached the podium, a red poppy pined to his cassock. It was April 25th. ANZAC day. The day to remember those who died in the Great War.
As the congregation stood for the hymn, Spiller stood with them. Now, he thought. Now’s the time. And may God forgive me.
All of a sudden, during the last verse of the hymn, the lights blinked out. The chapel was swallowed by darkness. Spiller acted quickly, weaving in and out of the petrified people. When the lights came back on, they saw before them a terrible sight. The Reverend Strange lay dead before the altar, seemingly untouched. But a look of sheer terror was fixed on his face, as though he had died of fright.
“Ghost! People yelled. “The ghost of All Hallows Chapel! He’s here!”
The congregation swarmed to the doors and ran into the dark.
This was a strange world to Spiller. A world he’d once imagined. A world where trenches, mud, barbed wire and bloodshed were no more. Where the German guns had ceased. The Great War had ended, and the world was a peace. Spiller felt glad that all those friends of his, whose bones still lie in Flanders’s field, were not forgotten.
Soon, only Spiller and the dead Reverend were left in the chapel. He crept up to him, and whispered in his ear:
We fought at Armageddon for the freedom of mankind:
I fought, and you fought, and here our bones lie strewn.
The flesh is stript from off us, and the chains remain behind,
And the freedom that we fought for is an unremembered tune.
“So this is the world of my dreams. Where war is no more. The world I imagined, but I did not live to see. Every little boy should live to see his dream come true. But not me. The imaginary world I’d hoped for when I was a child, before the Commanding Officers drained us of hope that such a world may someday exist, was gone for me”.
Spiller straightened up and, in his worn uniform, walked over to the Honour Roll. There, at the very bottom of the list, in bronze lettering, was his own name: Harold J. Spiller 1895-1915. A brave soldier who’d fought in the front lines and was taken back from No Man’s Land. November 1st 1915.
Spiller removed his slouch hat and silently, as a ghost, sunk into the wall, saying quietly, “Age shall now weary them, nor the years condemn…I will go on haunting this world. This strange world of the living, of my imagination…for ever.” The honour roll did not mention the truth – he’d been shot by General Richard H. Strange. But now, by visiting his imaginary world, he’d taken his revenge …
This May I entered the New Zealand Post Book awards short story competition. The story I wrote included a little bit of my family background, Harold Spiller being my great uncle who died in WW2. I found the results soon after the due date and was stunned that I came first in the 9-12 category. This is a big step towards my goal of becoming a published author.
Christina Wilson 8KW student
An Unremembered Tune by Christina, 12
Harold Spiller was inside All Hallows Chapel that night… although no one knew it.
He sat in the shadows where no one would see him, and whilst the congregation buzzed with noise, he waited. The Reverend Edward Strange approached the podium, a red poppy pined to his cassock. It was April 25th. ANZAC day. The day to remember those who died in the Great War.
As the congregation stood for the hymn, Spiller stood with them. Now, he thought. Now’s the time. And may God forgive me.
All of a sudden, during the last verse of the hymn, the lights blinked out. The chapel was swallowed by darkness. Spiller acted quickly, weaving in and out of the petrified people. When the lights came back on, they saw before them a terrible sight. The Reverend Strange lay dead before the altar, seemingly untouched. But a look of sheer terror was fixed on his face, as though he had died of fright.
“Ghost! People yelled. “The ghost of All Hallows Chapel! He’s here!”
The congregation swarmed to the doors and ran into the dark.
This was a strange world to Spiller. A world he’d once imagined. A world where trenches, mud, barbed wire and bloodshed were no more. Where the German guns had ceased. The Great War had ended, and the world was a peace. Spiller felt glad that all those friends of his, whose bones still lie in Flanders’s field, were not forgotten.
Soon, only Spiller and the dead Reverend were left in the chapel. He crept up to him, and whispered in his ear:
We fought at Armageddon for the freedom of mankind:
I fought, and you fought, and here our bones lie strewn.
The flesh is stript from off us, and the chains remain behind,
And the freedom that we fought for is an unremembered tune.
“So this is the world of my dreams. Where war is no more. The world I imagined, but I did not live to see. Every little boy should live to see his dream come true. But not me. The imaginary world I’d hoped for when I was a child, before the Commanding Officers drained us of hope that such a world may someday exist, was gone for me”.
Spiller straightened up and, in his worn uniform, walked over to the Honour Roll. There, at the very bottom of the list, in bronze lettering, was his own name: Harold J. Spiller 1895-1915. A brave soldier who’d fought in the front lines and was taken back from No Man’s Land. November 1st 1915.
Spiller removed his slouch hat and silently, as a ghost, sunk into the wall, saying quietly, “Age shall now weary them, nor the years condemn…I will go on haunting this world. This strange world of the living, of my imagination…for ever.” The honour roll did not mention the truth – he’d been shot by General Richard H. Strange. But now, by visiting his imaginary world, he’d taken his revenge …
This May I entered the New Zealand Post Book awards short story competition. The story I wrote included a little bit of my family background, Harold Spiller being my great uncle who died in WW2. I found the results soon after the due date and was stunned that I came first in the 9-12 category. This is a big step towards my goal of becoming a published author.
Christina Wilson 8KW student
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)