Kellett Utopia - June 2023

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CONTENTS

Our Beaches

Meetthe team-4

Notefrom theeditor-5

VisitingPoets-7

FastFiction-12

KS3 - 12

KS4 - 29 Features - 36

Poetry-52

Our beaches are covered In rubbish and plastic. We should be helping, But we are all static! We use plastic bottles And create tons of waste. Nothing is happening, Let's pick up the pace! No matter your age, Eighty or eight, You can make a difference, Don't leave it too late!

by Ruby

CreativeWriting-69

Notefrom designers-75

Meet th Meet th m m

Hugo

Lorelei

Natalie

Gabriel

Ruby

Gabriel Ethan Hebe

Lucy

NOTE FROM THE EDITOR

To all those reading the Utopia magazine, Welcome to Utopia and I can’t wait for you to read all of our amazing entries featured, written by our talented students across all year groups!

I am Natalie, the editor for Kellett’s 2023-2024 English magazine and it has been my greatest pleasure working with the whole entire Utopia team from start to finish, bringing our vision to life, and presenting it to you today. I would like to take this opportunity to thank Mr Barton and Mr McMahon for their guidance and assistance throughout the year, supporting us during each and every single meeting. Thank you for trusting us with this opportunity and Utopia wouldn’t have come true without you both, and so on behalf of our whole team, thank you for everything you have done.

At the very start of term 1, our team members joined together to discuss the theme for this issue and we decided that it would revolve around the 17 SDG global goals by the United Nations We have been amazed by all of the incredible submissions ranging from fast fiction to poetry, creative writing and even artwork all focusing on one of the goals of their choice. We cannot wait to share it with you and I really hope that you enjoy each and every one of them (and to the students, feel free to see if you can spot any of your entries featured!)

But before you read on, I would like to say a huge thank you to our team members for their exceptional work and effort they all put in, despite hectic times and weeks. I would like to say a huge thank you to Lorelei, our media head for designing this wonderful magazine with our media team, Gabriel, Kerensa and Ruby for their remarkable organisational skills, Ned Tyson for his help with Utopia’s administration work and our whole entire team for putting together the entries to be featured.

Now, without further ado, I present to you the first issue of Kellett’s Utopia magazine!

Natalie Leung

messages from our messages from our

Visiting Poets

who came to Kellett to share who came to Kellett to share their work and inspire us their work and inspire us during Book Week! during Book Week!

I do find it really hard to concentrate. Sitting at my desk for too long makes me itch to be outside. I have to force myself to focus, but it’s also important not to stifle our imaginations.

Creativity is at the heart of every innovation, every step forward human beings make. When we’re thinking sustainability that could be anything improving methane emissions from co negotiating peaceful ends to conflic harnessing energy from carbon n resources – all of these things take imagination to visualize how they might and then the application and focus to lity. Hold onto your imagin ur planet, needs it.

- Kathryn

Evans

Award-winning Author

I M A G I N A T I O N

I try to pay attention, When I’m learning something tough, But my brain just goes all mushy, Like it’s made of dreamy fluff.

I stare out of the window, And think of what it’s like, To be a bird or rabbit, Or a bumble bee in flight.

I watch the windy weather, And see the falling leaves, That skitter, lift and tumble, Dancing on the breeze. My mind takes off behind them, As if I’d drifted from the tree, To cartwheel down the pavement, With the storm winds chasing me.

I fly along the hedge line, Then fall into a hole, And find I’m in a burrow, With a teacher who’s a mole.

All the class are leafy, So, it’s simple mathematics. When he tries us on division, We go back to acrobatics.

It’s strange to be so plant-y, When once I was a child, But the oddest things can happen, When you let your mind run wild.

©Kathryn Evans 2023

I M A G I N A T I O N 9

Australian Slam Poet

plenty of time phil wilcox

we have plenty of time and i’m sure everything will work out in the end we have plenty and i’m sure everything will work out in the end we have plenty and i’m sure everything will in the end we have plenty and i’m everything in the end we have everything in the end we everything in the end we in the end the end

Sustainable cities and communities

Kate

Caiden

Sophia Coen

Fast Fiction Entries: KS3

y7

Responsible Consumption& Production

Once a vessel of coolness divine, the plastic bottle once held a refreshing shine. Filled to the brim with hydration so true, it quenched the thirst of a fortunate few

But alas, the journey of the bottle continued and its fate was soon to be imbued Discarded like a relic of yesterday's delight, the bottle's future was doomed to an eternal plight.

Drifting forever like a lost pirate vessel, the bottle found itself encased in plastic peril A blight on the landscape and a scourge on the sea, this bottle was no longer the object of glee.

But hope remains, for even the darkest of days, can be lifted by the winds of change and better ways. Recycling and upcycling, the beacon of light, in saving the planet, this bottle can take flight

LifeonLand

Once upon a time, while I looked for a place to settle, I stumbled across a small, humble hill. It was dotted with multicoloured flowers and sturdy oak trees Soft, lush grass covered the ground beneath me. Fluffy cotton clouds blended into a clear sky. Nothing inhabited the land but timid animals So I decided to stay

Each day was an adventure. In the raw daylight, I danced with the vivid green grass

and I sang with the wind. In the night, the moon tinted the flowers white, which gave them a haunting beauty I watched the stars twinkle like diamonds in an obsidian sky. I spent every day on the same hill, enjoying the warmth of the sun and cherishing the glow of the moon, growing old with the oak trees and watching the birds learn to fly. But... that was just an old tale my grandpa used to tell me.

Ka Bo Ka Bo

2nd 2nd

3rd

Natalie

Lorelei

It’s been forever since the world succumbed to nature. I hyperventilated as a roar erupted behind me. My legs shook, numb, no longer able to support my starved body. “It’s coming," my classmate muttered, eyes no longer full of playfulness, only replaced with despair. Her body swayed in the wind, like a bird, graceful yet frightening.

Another wave of saltiness disrupted my senses It was getting closer “We need to go!” I dragged her hand, trying to get her to safety Our shoes were gone, vanishing with the tsunami that had swept away the rest of the world. The rocks below me pierced my feet, every slice keeping my mind awake.

Suddenly, the last warmth in my body dissolved. And when I turned around, my last friend was gone, leaving her mangled body.

I opened my eyes, to views of abandoned civilizations, knowing that the piece of glass had shattered.

Vicky Vicky Lifeon Land 3rd Climate Action 4th

Imagine a world where no voices ring, where the chatter of children is unheard of, where no moonlight streaks through the windows of an old family home, where the sensation of happiness is a foreign emotion Where there is nothing at all and nothing to be heard. Instead in its place, lethal gasses seep through the dense atmosphere, the same lethal gasses that massacred the entire human race, the same lethal gasses that we could have done something to stop. I trample through the thick mangled undergrowth, its thorns thrashing at my tear stricken face, resembling a wild beast clawing its way through, into survival.

My airmask drops. A sharp pain impales my chest, dragging across my aortic valve and slashing across my ribcage at an outrageous speed, filling my lungs up with venomous gases, causing my feeble body to give in as the ground hits my skin. All goes black.

Hailey Hailey

y8

The girl strolled merrily along the shimmering beach. It was a day of sparkling sunshine and she giggled as the cool breeze lifted her hair into a swirling mass of cinnamon brown. Suddenly, the wind stopped. A moaning. Whipping around, something writhing near the shoreline caught the girl’s eye. Creeping closer, she realised it was a turtle and the sight she saw made her gasp. She watched as its thrashing legs decelerated. She watched as they lost the spirit they once had. The girl knelt next to it and, sobbing, recognised the hateful glare in the turtle’s eyes as they glazed over, lifeless at last. The girl was utterly powerless; she could do nothing.

Reluctantly, she stood, contemplating her very existence and how horribly humans had mistreated the once beautiful world. Then, with her head hung low, she continued to wander across the endless, vast landscape, plastic bottles crunching underfoot.

1st

Life on land

Donna Rachel

Peace, Justice and Strong Institutions 2nd

I soared through the sky, my paperwork wings slicing through the light blue wind. My terrapack glowed green, matching the lush, towering mountains I threaded through. A leaf stuck to my face as I zoomed through a knarled acacia. I caught it just before it was whisked away, noticing a blackened cog etched into the middle. ‘Machinas,’ I thought, my mind whirring with ideas - this was serious. I leaned upwards, my wings flipping me in the opposite direction, back home. I saw the purple glow of our terragiant’s eyes as it saw me, heaving itself upwards, and revealing the green village - our perfect haven. I sounded the alarm - a large waterstream connected to the whole village. I took a deep breath, realising I was about to break the news; the very words that would

I walk along the pavement, each step I take layering more soot onto my shoes. I feel the grimy air surrounding me that covers the stars which were once so visible. I can feel it seeping into my lungs. I cough, crimson liquid splattering. My body aches but I carry myself further. In the distance, a fox now completely covered in black whimpers and reluctantly lies down, wrapping its fluffy tail around itself before falling into its final slumber. A fire in my chest convinces me to quicken my pace. I can feel my heart beating in my ears. I glance up at the bold red letters above me reading ‘Emergency’ but I don't have time to shout. I fall to my knees, and clutch my chest.

The most painful goodbyes are preventable. If you raise your voice to the rain now, we can end this.

Climate Action

I clasped the copper door handle, with confidence. It burned. I whipped my hand away with great force, and stared at it for a whole minute. Why was it so hot? I grabbed a chequered tea towel from the kitchen counter and blanketed it over the door knob. I turned it, anxiously waiting for that second burn, but the towel protected my shaking hand. I opened the door an inch, and the sunlight burst through the gap between the door and the door frame. I opened the door wider and wider until the golden glow shone down on me, I felt like I could rule over everyone. I stepped outside and looked around, but that second of pride I experienced drained out of me with a flash. Every bush and tree was burnt, and the leaves were charcoal black, the scent of burnt toast floated through the air. It was a forest fire.

BOOKMARK COMPETITION

One of the many Book Week competitions, the Bookmark competition (organised by our librarian), allowed students to express their passions, while also creatively including the school motto.

y9

C l a s s

Swish, swosh, I'm useless garbage. Up and down the coastline in the blazing heat of a summer morning. Giants put my friends and me into a garbage bag. What was I? A plastic bottle. A single-use plastic bottle.

My friends and I chatted away as we were transported to a factory of some sort and were dumped out onto a conveyor belt. It felt somewhat familiar. I heard from a fellow friend that they were once something else. My spine was crushed, my heart was pounding, death was taunting me as I whimpered in despair. Somehow the torturing stopped. I got “plastic surgery” and transformed into a cup? Hope arose as I noticed greenish, yet mesmerizing blossom strutted towards me. A tingling sensation florished as someone merged us into a potted plant and at that moment, I knew I was useful. As I’ve been told, it's garbage can, not garbage cannot.

Reduced Inequalities

Darkness. That's all I know. It's as if I hadn't opened my eyes. I crave the light of morning. Darkness. It's all that exists. A rumble. Cries from the others in their cages. My mouth is shut. I won't let the darkness enter. The rumble gets louder and a sliver of daylight shows itself. The jaws open. Light. It is cold. I can see the other cages. Girls. Pale children with no hair. People with dark skin. People with hijabs. Some are missing limbs. Hundreds of boys enter. Their happy cries taunt me. I see red. They run. I can do that too. They laugh as they play. Blonde hair, blue eyes, strong bodies. Their minds are fresh. What about me? I could be just as smart. They are given everything on silver platters. We're locked in silver cages. The boys leave. The jaws close. Darkness.

3rd

Good Health and Well-being

My steps pounded against the unyielding concrete, in rhythm with the yearning of my stomach. I drew in a sharp breath, waiting for the bitter winds to stop lashing at me. The mist covered the moon's sly smirk in a cloak of mystery as I breathed out with despair. The stretched arms of clouds embraced the vast blue sky. The draft of wind was bitter and freezing, enveloping my hands, which were straining to get a hold of my shoulders. My eyes stared off into the eyes of the motionless lights; they were ghastly and morose, squeezing out the last little spark of hope they had. My face was austere while my mind strode across the little memories I had left. What was I doing here? That was the question my mind kept on skipping. I felt heavy, and the curves of the benches kept on turning and turning, becoming motionless blurs. My ears whimpered and crumpled at something behind me. A sickly blotch, which spewed blood from the rapidly paling flesh. Its whimpering grew quieter and quieter. My mind was numb.

JAMIE

Responsible Consumption& Production

The boat swayed back and forth, mimicking the rhythmic sea as the midnight waves splintered the frail teak wood. The ocean was crammed with flickers of silver metal, dodging cautiously around the old vessel. It had been twenty years since the ship had last seen clear waters. A flash of lightning darted across the empty granite sky, followed by the earsplitting boom of thunder. Bolts of rage blasted the inky void as every strike of lightning inched the boat closer and closer to its eventual demise, only to be forgotten, erased from existence.

Beyond the horizon, the land lay still, lifeless. Years of exhausting all its supplies had burnt it to its core. We had done it. We had broken the unbreakable.

bbook ook week week

KS4 KS4 KS4

Life on land

Reduced Inequalities

aps me on the shoulder. I turn and oys before a magazine is shoved in my face.

r is a woman. Her hair is straight and p cheekbones, grey eyes, lips full and indingly white. Her skin is pale.

is you?” one of the boys asks.

y reflection, but I don’t see it. My hair o dreads. My lips are dry. The delicate my eyes is dark. All of me is dark.

How did they know?

The contacts had burned my eyes more than the lights ever could; the foundation they made me r was four shades too light. Be the first black del on our cover, they had said. I wanted to laugh. They just wanted to pay me less. have the wrong person,” I say, and watch as they leave.

Full Version

The bus jolts to a stop. Above the thrum of the engine, I hear the door hiss open. My seat dips as the bus sags under the weight of new passengers. Across from me, a man puts his headphones in.

I close my eyes, but even then I cannot pretend that this is home. This bus does not fling me into the air every time it hits a pothole. The windows are not rolled down. There is no staticky sports commentary or music loud enough to make my teeth rattle. There is only chatter in a language I barely understand, pressing against me on all sides.

Someone taps me on the shoulder. I turn and manage to glimpse two boys before a magazine is unceremoniously shoved in my face.

Blown wide on the cover is a woman smiling brightly, bold text edited behind her head. Her hair is straight and carefully stylised to highlight sharp cheekbones and large grey eyes. Her lips are full and teeth blindingly white. Her dress is cut midthigh to show off long legs and dainty feet. Her skin is pale.

“Is this you?” one of the boys asks.

glance at my reflection in the bus window, but I don’t see it. My hair o dreads and pulled up in a high ponytail. My lips are dry. Sleepless n embedded themselves deep into the delicate skin under my eyes, and dark anyway. All of me is dark.

How did they know?

They couldn’t have known what I knew: that two stylists refused to wo because my hair was hard to manage and harder to straighten; that th burned my eyes more that the strobelights ever could; that the founda made me wear was four shades too light; that it was all moot because t my skin until I could pass as white. Be the first black model on our cove said. I wanted to laugh. They just wanted to pay me less.

“You have the wrong person,” I say instead, and watch as they leave.

Kamini

ARUN 2nd Good Health and Well-being

She gave birth to the boy and wrapped him in swaddling clothes, and laid him in a 21st century manger A kind, good-hearted, angelic doctor, dressed in white, announced the blessed baby’s birth to the world. A glimmer of hope rose, a flicker of media attention until a helicopter crash in Southern California became the new focus of the imperturbable news outlets. An update on the war in Ukraine. Climate Change causing heat waves. Racist hate crimes.

The grey, smoky sky leaked acidic tears onto the hospital where death and life coincided

Then, the child of hope died. Doctors say there was a hole in his heart valve, yet ultimately, what killed the infant was the realisation that our world has lost hope. Selfabsorbed individuals choose not to improve our damaged world. They all watched him die. And they, since they were not the one dead, turned to their affairs.

3rd

Clean Water and Sanitation

Beads of sweat escaped from my skin as I gulped for air, desperate for the sight of the horizon. Involuntarily reaching for my absent water bladder, I turned around to see how far I’d come. Trees as far as the eye could see and no rivers in sight. When would this end? I swallowed back my discomfort, willing my muscles to work against the acid surging through me. One step; breathe. Two steps; breathe. Three steps; breathe. My lungs ached with an indescribable pain. “It’s fascinating,” I breathlessly sighed to myself, “How such a basic movement can suddenly become exhausting.”. The back of my hand brushed across my damp brow: my exposed scalp unshielded from the blazing sun. This was too much I couldn’t take this anymore. And suddenly just as I felt my legs collapse from under me I saw it: Water.

Lorelei

Lorelei

Responsible Consumption& Production

Vast spectrums of colour filled the fields, twisting into a mosaic of textures. I brushed my hands against the sparse blades of grass patches beneath me, the plastic bags blooming in the subtle breeze, the trees of water bottles shading the unrecognisable garment turf.

Air thick with toxic fumes, the garbage trucks inhaled the stench, and only seemed to groan louder with each breath. These fields were once a luscious green a natural green but now they reflected a sea of sepia values sparingly dotted with neon chartreuse and fuschia. Resting on the bushes of plastic benches and barrels, I felt acid rain of sorrow strike against my skin; the blazing dunes of litter were bitterly struck down with the wrath of nature. This was a call from Earth: a cry of desperation, a cry for help. And a cry of revenge.

Zuzanna

Mrs Hadfield

Fast Fiction Features

YOUDE

Goal 15: Life on Land Natalie

Swish swash, the forewash pulling away my emotions as it returns to its home. Autumn breeze strikes my skin and a thousand kisses it leaves on me. The serrated sand stabs softly against my flesh, while heaps of debris of the world accompanies its destruction. The whiff of grease mixed with sulfur permeates through my nostrils, damaging each and every cell in my corpse - I felt dead inside. A wave of smoke blinds me and leaves me worrying about the uncertainty faced; not of where we are now, but rather where we are going. A place that once brought us safety, comfort and love is now modified into one that is being killed by mankind, as each backswash hits harder with anger; Irony they say. I can’t stand it anymore, I need to leave. As the begrimed beach consumes my legs; thoughts begin to consume my mind - was this all worth it though? Is it really worth it?

SUBMERGED Anya

Semi-submerged in smoky grey water, the spires of buildings protruded from the vast engulfing ocean. The hostile wind clawed at my skin as I gazed down at the mess our ancestors had left us. It's been ten years since the beginning of the catastrophe and decades since the planet was first warned about the immeasurable destruction that would come if we failed to act. Now the immense ocean consumes innumerable buildings: the city skyline that had once stood proudly stretching for the sky has now been reduced to an eclectic mix of crumbled concrete and sunken rubble with the occasional tops of skyscrapers still visible, desperately clinging onto the air as they slowly suffocate.

I stepped back as I watched our future drown before me.

Zero Hunger

Bowen

LifeBelow Water

Flowing around every inch of my body, the water swirls, twisting colours of blue and gold as flecks of light drop from the sun. Swimming deeper into the abyss, the cold plastic mask breathes oxygen into my lungs. The gold shimmers disappear as I submerge in the black, vast and empty space. The familiar feeling of ground on my feet sends shivers up my spine, as grains of sand erupt from the force of my weight.

There is only darkness, penetrated by the harsh glow of my flashlight. My feet move forwards, pushing against the water that presses down on me. And there it lies. Alone and dead. A fish wrapped in a plastic skin caught on a single strand of seaweed. And suddenly I see the world of horror open up, a mirage of cans and cups, streaks of red and white in the dark peaceful sea. Suffocated, wrapped under the blanket of doom, I imagine the plastic tying me to the ocean bed, my oxygen tank running out, leaving me stuck in a world of trash.

Glancing around in despair, I realised, all hope was lost... what once was a wondrous sea of evergreen grass, a lake that once was skyline-silver...

In a blink of an eye, the breathtaking scenery of mother nature was flooded... plastic bottles, tin cans, etc. sat there, slowly, slowly building up to reveal a monster made out of rubbish , it devoured everything, just EVERYTHING in its way... It trampled around, collecting more waste on its body as it grew tremendously...

I sprinted without looking back, hoping to see the light of day again. Seeing what was in front of me, I halted.

Lifeon Land Celine

The path I was sprinting on was replaced by a cliff... Looking back, the monster was already catching up to me... and I know that it would follow me no matter what... I had to do the heroic move... for the world to grow into that etheral atmosphere again. I leapt forward, knowing death would happen in a matter of seconds. I knew that this was the right thing to do... Seeing the monster leaping in after me, I smiled to myself, knowing that the sacrifice was worth it.

Elyna

Zero Hunger

watercolour artworks by

Quality Education

On Pi day, students and teachers worked on creating artworks with the use of different circles and inspired by the mathematical values

Cordelia Linda

CLEMENTI CLEMENTI CLEMENTI CLEMENTI CLEMENTI CLEMENTI

I WISH

Clickety-clack. Wheels of trains running on the tracks. High-pitched, joyful laughter of children with neat uniforms and schoolgirls with ribbons and bows. Wrappers of chocolate and chips being crumpled, producing that irritating noise, yet I envy that. I wish I had that. I wish I had the chance to go to school, to walk the same route every morning, to eat the most revolting lunch the school provides, to complain about nagging teachers and the mountains of homework. But I don't. I can't. Because I don't go to school.

While some families can decorate their masterpieces with accessories and pieces of fabric, we wear the same plain shirt, the same ripped shorts, the same worn-out sneakers. Every morning we feel anxious, because one day we might not have enough money, enough food, enough water.

I wish we didn't have to worry. I wish I could go to school.

LifeBelow Water

Kerensa

Beat. My heart started racing. I was struggling to move. I.. can’t… breathe… sigh. I accepted my fate. Thinking back on all the fun times I had: swimming through the corals, which splashed the sea with colour; swimming through the rocks, the stones; hiding from… sharks. I guess my life was pretty pointless. A simple life, ended with a simple… bag… I’ve heard of this before. My loving family, who raised me - their lives ended tragically. My supportive friends, who helped me through hardships - their lives ended tragically. All because of a plastic bag.

As I took my last breath, I felt the warm aura of angels, bringing me back to the sweet hands of my caring family.

Peace, Justice and Strong Institutions

I looked down at my brother, his ribs almost breaking out of his thin, paper-like skin. Lying down, his desolate eyes stare at our empty metallic bowl placed in front of us.

A tiny, wet, dilapidated rag acts as our only sense of home. We escaped. We fled. We left the only place I had lived my entire life.

Ear-shattering explosions still ring violently in my ear. The sound of helicopter blades right above our home. My mother still screaming my name. But I’m trying to escape that past, the only home I’ve ever known.

Chatter. Family. Celebration. Plates crashing, people laughing, pavements burning.

The sound of home. My home doesn’t exist any more. At least I'm safe here.

LLifebelowwater ifebelowwater

Colette

Maia

Rio Clare

Maclehose Maclehose Maclehose Maclehose Maclehose

LifeBelow Water

My feet hovered above the water as I saw my reflection, sad as ever. Slowly, quietly, I stretched to get a glance of its cooling sensation. Suddenly, I felt a tugging from behind, and like usual it was my irritating father dragging me away. “I told you to stay away from the docks! The sea monster lurks there!” he screamed. I abided by his unreasonable demands and went back to my hut.

In the evening, I decided to go rogue, and I sprinted to the nearest boat. Immediately, I used my feet to push the boat into a swift motion and paddled deep into the darkness. All was calm, the moon light glistened on the surface… BAM! I felt a bump on my boat. THUMP. Another. Was it the sea monster? I hastily began to paddle back to shore with as much speed as my arms could handle, before I heard something like wailing behind me. It was a turtle, with a sheet of plastic strangling its neck. No aggressiveness, no anger, just pain, because of us.

Peace,Justice andStrong Institutions

The stars sparkled like a million fireflies, painting the sky in shades of deep navy blue. In the distance, a storm raged, the thunder rumbling like the pounding drums in a war march. But in the midst of the chaos, a single white dove perched on a branch, eyes closed in peaceful slumber.

The night was as still as a graveyard, the only movement the swaying of the dove's branch. But as the marchers approached, the dove's eyes slowly fluttered open, as if awakened by the call for peace. It spread its wings, soaring towards the sky, leading the way. With each beat of its wings, the storm began to subside, the thunder quieting to a gentle rumble.

But in the heart of it all, a group of protestors marched, their voices raised in harmony as they sang of love and unity.

Zero hunger

Pung Pung

Quality Education

Yaretzi

Ka Bo

Blathnaid

Ms Wilson

Poetry

Busy City Busy City

HHugo ugo

The city is busy everyday, Newspapers flying everywhere, Dark morning air, Horns blaring, People screaming, Tyres screeching, Time ticking, People rushing, The blazing ball of fire scorching the morning air, Gigantic grey cotton buds surrounding the sky, With claws of thunder like daggers, It’s claws scraping the sky, Crawling everywhere, Tears falling from heaven, Trees tall as mountains and strong as elephants, *Torogozes flying in the emerald cities, Fruity smells, Cattle rushing, Horses galloping, Pigs trotting, Chickens running everywhere, Eggs scattered in the city of green, Shredding cheese, Smashing beans, Mixed with pork, Corn dough being filled with the mixtures, **Pupusas being thrown in hot flat tops, **Pupusas flying everywhere, People eating,

*A native bird

**A native food

Black coffee made of corn swallowed down, People dancing and playing, Shouts of joy everywhere, Bells ringing, A stampede comes and goes, Birds flying and yelling, Buildings of water rushing from the sand, People flying through the sea, Cocktails and seafood on benches, The vast blue world glistening in the fading light, Herds rush home, Doors slamming, It is calm, peaceful and beautiful now Roads empty, Owls call,

A gigantic white face staring down at us in the oasis of deep blue and lights, Specks of gold in the sky as far as the eye can see, Monsters of iron asleep, Horses of steel waiting, The moon lights the paths everywhere, Giants of stone and crystal, not a noise made, Wooden guardians waiting, still and unmoved, The vast sky filled with beautiful colours everywhere, Beasts howling and growling, The world is beautiful in the deep blue, For time is still, unmoved and not disturbed...

But the day needs to repeat.

Drifting out into space, She wonders

What is life?

On Planet On Planet EEarth arth

Once upon a time

The Earth was blue

But the pollution on Earth

Clustered, turned the world

Grey, like the world was a hearth

Smoke traveled around. It danced, It twirled.

The marine life

Went extinct

Like a knife

Was plunged into the sea.

The phytoplankton died

The world will die soon

She knows that it’s doomed, It’s good as fried.

So she went on a journey

To escape the Earth.

But now she wonders:

What if the world had been Looked after?

She gazes at it with mirth.

EEnvironmental nvironmental hazards are hazards are sserious erious

Good health and well-being

Geneve

Vanessa

Outside the Window, Outside the Window, On the Television On the Television

Staring out the window, I used to see Blue skies as clear as they could be. Birds and other animals roamed free Near forests with lively treesA true symbol of beauty and tranquillity.

Staring out the window, now I see Riots and parades just so people can be A bit more aware and show some sympathy, For our world is not as healthy As it used to be.

Before, watching the television, We could see rare species with booming populations; A wonderful future we could envision. We didn't have to worry about extinction, Pollution or dreadful decisions.

Now watching the television, We see activists speaking with ambition, Teaching others the effects of carbon emissions, And encouraging them to join in on the mission To save the earth, for that is our only option.

THE TWO FACED CITY

MARTIN & JAMES

A delectable dining experience lies in front of her

Her lavish dress compliments the amber threads in her eyes

Everything is to her convenience,

As from her window, she watches the homeless slowly die.

Rummaging in trash, one meal one success

Her collared T-shirt, full of numerous holes

Her optimistic mind says it gives character

Yet the tears tell a different story as they tumble down her nose

Expensive products abundant in the rich woman’s nut-brown hair

The fake smile plastered on her face full of pearly white teeth

She has everything one could ever dream about And still has the audacity to boast to those underneath

Slumped down like a fallen tree is the poor woman, A tight blanket of fear wraps around her What if she will never recover from this? But her own hope will pick her up from down in the dirt.

Until the cocoon of inequality is sliced open by a bright blade of justice, Until the Rich empathize with the ones on lower steps of the staircase of life, Until the word poverty is no longer etched into the brains of the poor at birth, Then the world will stay the same, the two faced city will remain.

BEEN CAUGHT

Kayna Gender Equality

All over the world

Little girls are told when a boy pulls their hair, Its how he shows he cares.

Little girls are told they have to be responsible because little boys don't know better. For us, it wasn't optional

Little girls are given Barbies and tea sets

On Christmas morning while Video games and action figures are what their brother gets.

But don’t forget that

Little boys are told that they should stop at nothing if they like a girl to get her to like him back. Even if he resorts to pushing and shoving

Little boys are told that it's okay to be aggressive and mean because they need to be assertive. If a girl does the same she is considered obscene.

Little boys are ridiculed when they want to play with the dolls and the tea sets. They’d tease him and say he’s gay.

I thought my older brother was the coolest when I was a little girl. He didn't really feel the same.

I loved to be a princess, but I'd love to dress up as a soldier in a video game

But when we played dress up in school, I tried to get my friend to wear hair clips too, you know, the ones with the butterflies. He ran away saying, 'ew! they're only for girls!'

His loss, but I tried

We fast forward a few years when

Teen girls are told that any skin they show is distracting and should cover themselves up. Never would have thought shoulders were attracting

Teen girls are told by the world that they need to fit an exact mould; otherwise, they are unattractive. Let alone be individual and bold

Teen girls are taught from a young age to not be alone at night, always to leave one earphone out even in daylight, always to tell someone where they're going, not free to roam, And to keep their keys between their finge

IknowI’vebeentoldt

Teen boys are told if they're not good at something, that they do it like a girl To be told that a lot can be numbing

Teen boys are told they can do anything as long as they have aim But

teen girls aren’t always told the same

Teen boys are told to man up because Boys. Don't. Cry

We fast forward a few years when

The little girls are not so little anymore And the little boys aren't so little either

They don't know what it feels like to be okay

They don't know that when their partner hurts them, it's not how love is conveyed

They don't know that it's okay to cry and doesn't make you inferior to anyone else.

They don't know that they shouldn't have to be afraid to express themself.

They don't know that they shouldn't have to live in a world where fireworks sound the same as fingers on triggers.

They don't know that they shouldn't have to live in a world where they have to walk home with their keys between their fingers.

Zero Hunger

I am starving.

Although the world’s food is more than enough, Each week crowds of people live their life tough. Because of hunger.

The people are starving. Hunger’s a monster that comes out of the gloom, A beast that attacks people who can’t find food. This is hunger.

The city is starving. A third of our food is completely wasted, A third of our meals are not even tasted. This fuels hunger.

The country is starving. In a year billions of tons of food are uneaten, While desires for meals are still unbeaten. Because of hunger.

The world is starving. Each day thousands of people are wasting of hunger, Forced into slumber, Dying by number, Becoming food hunters, Because of hunger.

The Mariana Trench

My submarine creaks and groans as it reaches the sea floor. I couldn’t possibly leave it - I’d be crushed instantly. I’m one of three people to ever make it to the bottom of the deepest trench in the world.

I can’t quite see clearly through the murky waters, but I make out a small shining shape. What could survive down here? My mind is ablaze with speculation. I inch over, taking care, and my heart stops. A plastic bottle, filled with sand. A plastic bottle at the bottom of the sea.

It was inside the fractured bones of a turtle.

I can still make out the shell, pushed to the side by the currents. The poor thing, bones cracked and crushed.

It must have mistaken it for food and swallowed it. Weighed down by the bottle, it sank and sank and sank. Nothing can handle the pressure of being at the very bottom of the sea. So the turtle died.

I move around the barren and desolate sea floor, heart broken like a shattered vase. I see a plastic bag here, A fishhook there.

I preferred living blind to the horrors I never knew existed. How can I go back now?

Life on land Pung Pung

The tennis match The tennis match

Good Health and Wellbeing

Deep breaths, Sweaty hands clenched, Staring at the tennis ball coming my way.

My inflexible grip, firm and stiff

“Eye on the ball and you’ll be fine” I say.

I swing my racket with full force, my muscles contract.

My gaze widens, I hold my breath, Only to realize that I haven’t hit it back. I miss.

Deep breaths, Try again.

My grip tightens, I stand so still that I hear my heart beating Boom boom

Another one coming my way, But I don’t see it coming. Prepared physically, Not mentally. I miss, again.

Deep breaths, It’s alright Stay calm. Stay collected. Stay confident.

Heartbeat racing with my thoughts. My eyes slide smoothly sideways

Amidst the boiling blistering 30 degrees, Others tackling their tennis match with ease, While I’m here, panicking, jittering, inflaming, Under my skin.

Deep breaths, I wonder

both our rackets are built the same, made of the same stubborn strings, made of the same material

Why can’t I tackle the tennis balls the same as them?

Why is it so much harder for me? Why can’t I hit it back like they do?

Please, I beg of you, Just let me be.

Deep breaths, I know I’m not alone I know that somewhere there, Is another tennis player in the same battle as me, In the same situation as me, Feeling the same as me.

Deep breaths, one day, We will conquer this, We will rise above this, We will accept this, And by then…

Deep breaths, I will no longer have to resist. I will have embraced this rough patch, And once and for all, ace the tennis match.

The vessel cuts gracefully through the water when something was noticed by the shipmate's daughter.

She informs the captain with a hurried pace, but he just yells, "GET OUT OF MY FACE!"

The captain quickly dismisses it as a fish, But little did he know, that was just his wish. While the dark murky shadow circles the ship, poking out of the water is its tentacles' tip.

The crew sails on, ignoring the shade, But it doesn't ignore them, and the ship starts to sway. The girl shrieks “It's here, we’ve got to fight!”

But the captain just says “Now your jokes are getting trite!”

When from the hull, comes a loud boom, Now the crew knows they are heading towards their doom

The captain finally realises that the monster is here, He dives into a barrel, cowering in fear.

THE UNSEEN MENACE

He pokes his eye out of a hole, He shouts: “Relax guys, it's just a shoal!”

The monster rears a tentacle up,

As the shipmate's daughter reaches for a club

Most of the crew mocks and jeers.

But a few people shout and cheer

She runs up to the giant, monstrous creature.

The shipmates yell "No!", but the sound can’t reach her. She is ready to go, to fix, to fight

But a little girl can't make this right.

The captain yells: “Fight now it's real!”

But alas it is too late, and the boat begins to keel.

TED, XAVI, SAMUEL & KARTIK

The ship is starting to roll and tumble

And a lot of the oblivious crew falls off in a jumble

The time has come, the time to clean up this mess

But the captain just hides, underneath a dress

He closes his eyes and denies the problem

While the crew are sinking to the deep bottom

This problem can't be sorted, This obstacle can't be thwarted

But don't be the captain, be the girl, We have to work to fix our world, Everyone in, we need you all Without people helping, the world will fall

Life on land

Lo Yu

Annika

Donna

Creative Creative Writing Writing

By Vivienne By Vivienne

The second year, things were starting to come into place. The Governers were planning to move to a second planet, but they could only afford to bring themselves, and a small amount of the population. As soon as I heard this, I was stricken. Of course, not everyone took this information the same as I did. Riots were caused, buildings were burnt down, lives were lost. Gnostic Insurance had to give them quite a lot of money, and because of that, and our payrolls had to be put on hiatus. I was devastated. My only source of income had been cut off!

Luckily, the Governers introduced a new funding. The payrolls would not decrease for the Gnostic Insurance company. Since the company was recommended by them, they felt it was only right to fund us.

The month after that, things began to go downhill quickly. When I was writing my entry for the competition called Utopia or something on my computer at home, my coworker, Felicity, rang to say that the Governers were withdrawing their funding for Gnostic Insurance after protests breaking out around England. And once again, my pay was decked. This time because of the riots that happened because of the funding. Once again, a mistake on their part. I couldn’t believe that our country was governed by the bunch of idiots. In August, the plans to move to a second planet were declared official, by an ex-governer. His name was Daryn, but I recognised the face. He was the client known as Solemn.

With that information, I quickly deduced that he had come to me for insurance for the world population originally, but when I told him he could only insure the lives of those close to him, he had told the Governers and they had scrapped the plans to bring the world with them. He hadn’t told me he was a Governer even though I worked for Gnostic Insurance, a company funded by them. That was because most likely he didn’t trust me not to leak the information to the outside world. Within a year, preparations had been made. They had obviously turned corrupt, because they were planning to take only themselves to their new home. And they were going to leave us on Earth.

When that happened, my mind turned to darker thoughts. What was the reason for them leaving? I didn’t believe that they were leaving to discover cures for humanity. They were leaving for good.

And I knew why.

It was because of pollution.

By the 2000s the pollution had skyrocketed. In 2201, which was the current period of time, it had become unbearable. Scientific miracle cures failed, one after another. Some would partially succeed, however because of the pileup that had occurred by 2100, that had actually killed off a significant number of the population on Earth due to microplastic buildup in their systems, the amount of litter on the planet was uncurable. In 2150, every day the news would have a new story about a new species dying. By 2187, when I was born, life underwater had gone extinct, including the Great Barrier Reef. It was a shame, since I would’ve liked to see it expand. Even the ‘Immortal Jellyfish’ has gone. But the ecosystem is gone, including the microbacteria that would perhaps have been the only hope for rebuilding that precious expanse of life.

Now, in 2201, we had to wear masks outside. The masks were made of plastic and had tiny filters on them. Humans had evolved to breathe in poisonous air and combat microplastics in our bodies, however it was too much for even us to bear. For the record, we were not Homo Sapiens anymore. We had become Homo Horus. The new evolution that we had forced on ourselves. Animal shelters demanded donations from the Government but they did not supply. In the end it was a kind person that spent their fortune on finding masks for animals. Finally, there was someone who understood how precious life was.

There were rumours that women would become infertile in the next generation due to microplastics clogging up the parts of the body needed to reproduce. No wonder the Gorverners were moving to another planet. Most likely to Proxima Centauri B, that had been considered as a potentially habitable planet even before 2020. Good for them. Horrible for me.

I frowned as I realized that unless I applied for the position of Governer, I would be left on Earth to die. Governers had to pass a test first. I never understood why they would apply for such a position of power. Assassination attempts on the Board of Governers were more than common, and some succeeded. For instance, an esteemed Governer who went by the name of Robis Jackson was murdered brutally when I was around ten years old. However, now I understood that to save my life, I’d have to risk it.

My application for Governer was sent an hour later. They responded immediately, telling me to meet an agent outside Palasadium Arena, with a dagger. I travelled there by maglev as soon as I read the message, bringing my sword. It was mandatory for every Homo Horus to carry on their person a suitable dagger, for self-defense. That rule was introduced somewhere during the 2020s as there were many motorbike snatchthiefs and such. There was a revolution during the 2090s and the Governers were elected to keep the peace of England. The first thing they did, to public outcry, was to employ personal guards in order to protect themselves against any rebellion. That was when the world realised there was no getting rid of them.

Good health and well-being

Layla Ananya

This is some artwork that the KS3 students produced in their art class after being inspired by the theme of identity.

Charlotte

Nicole

Logan

NOTEFROM DESIGNERS

Once you open this magazine, the pages will come to life with vibrant colours, embellished pages, and diverse graphics that will make the words you read all that more enjoyable. We’ve celebrated all of your thoughtful, captivating, and imaginative stories by meticulously designing this magazine, catching your attention with its kaleidoscope of colours and pulling you into each and every detail of this ‘world of stories’—a true utopia!

We came together back in the beginning of the term 1 and what started as just a simple design and logo, led to a full magazine with 70+ pages. We hope you enjoyed the magazine and we are so grateful that we got to share our designs with you!

Lorelei & Natalie

HEAD OF DESIGN EDITOR IN CHIEF

DESIGNERS OF UTOPIA MAGAZINE