Posted in Other Homework, Reflections, School Stuff, Writing

Valedictory Speech

As a part of finishing primary school, all the year 6 students were required to write and present a valedictory speech. Brynn’s speech was chosen as the best way to sum up 7 years at MPPS, so she got to read out her speech at the graduation ceremony. Here is my valedictorian speech:

Hello year 6s, parents and teachers. Welcome to Year 6 graduation for 2017.


I’m Ella, and I’m the Valedictorian for tonight. I’m up here representing every single one of the graduates, saying our thankyous and our goodbyes.

Wow. What a journey primary school has been. We have grown, learned and developed so much within the walls of Moonee Ponds Primary School. We’ve made it from Prep, when we were MPCS, all the way to year 6, where we are proudly representing MPPS. Every single day that we have spent in the classrooms, working hard, has led up to tonight. Graduation.


We wouldn’t be here tonight if it wasn’t for the wonderful MPPS community. Teachers, parents, and of course the students! Learning wouldn’t be possible without our teachers. They have taught us everything that we will need to know next year, and have prepared us for life. Pretty much nothing would be possible without our supportive parents. They have put up with us through the years, and given us the support, help and motivation that we have needed. And last but definitely not least, our fellow graduates. Although teachers do most of the teaching, our friends and classmates have taught us so many social skills and shaped us into who we are today. Thank you to the MPPS community for helping us develop and learn.


So many memories have been created here. Excursions, camps, there have been countless times when we have just gotten together as a group and had a laugh. I’m sure no one can forget the huge storm on year 3 camp that seemed to come out of nowhere. When we look back on that crazy day at Camp Currumbene, we can share lots of stories and memories.  And when the ‘alien’ came to the school in prep, and how we actually believed it was real!? We can all look back on how small and cute we were, and see how much we have changed. Some more recent memories, for example, Camp Bridgewater. I’m sure that we can all remember the talent show and that long walk up that huge hill that exhausted us.

We’ve had our 3 school fetes over the years, and participated in 3 school productions at the Clocktower.

Loads of memories have been made here. It’s going to be hard to leave.



Every single one of us year 6s is different, unique and special in our own way. We have all contributed to making our primary school experience different. This cohort of kids is incredible; Indigo, and her passion for reading. Ty, who is so fast and has gotten our school into divisionals and regionals many times. Martin and Nicholas, for their love of computers and technology. It would take way too long for me to name everyone’s unique passion- we could go on all night.

Tonight, we graduate. 7 years of school, all leading to this one night. The night where we say goodbye to this wonderful school, and take so many precious memories of it with us. We have grown so much here at Moonee Ponds Primary School. But as we go to high school, we are going to get so many opportunities to do the things we are really passionate about. So I’m going to end my speech with a quote from Dr Seuss.

‘You have brains in your head. You have feet in your shoes. You can steer yourself in any direction you choose.’



Posted in School Stuff, Writing

Joy Poem

Joy at the sound of the meow of my cat

Joy at the sight of him sitting on my lap

Joy at the feeling of jumping into the pool

Joy at the water on my skin, nice and cool

Joy at the sound as the school bell goes

Joy at taking off my shoes, cool air on my toes

Joy at biting to cookie and hearing the crunch

Joy at opening the Coke I will drink with my lunch

Posted in School Stuff, Writing


I still remember the day that they told me I had cancer. My mum was crying, my dad was hunched over, his fists clenched. For me, everything went blurry. The doctor’s voice seemed to slow down. I felt dizzy, and a rush of nausea came over me. I didn’t want to know. I didn’t want to know how long I had to live, or if anything could be done. I thought that if I didn’t know, nothing would happen. That’s when I started to scream. Not of anger, and not of fear. I just wanted to drown out all the noise. So I wouldn’t know. I guess that’s what happens when you tell an 8 year old that they have cancer.


That was the day my parents bought me Charlie. He was a small golden retriever puppy with huge, chocolate brown eyes. I didn’t want a dog. I just wanted everything to go back to normal. But I knew it couldn’t. So I took Charlie home.


Charlie was a good puppy. Whenever I cried, he licked my tears away. He came to every hospital appointment. He even sat by my side when my mum shave my long, blonde hair. But unfortunately, Charlie couldn’t help me on my first day of school.


It was horrible. I walked through the school gates and everyone turned to look at me. People whispered, giving me sympathetic looks but making sure to stay out of my way. I remember my bag feeling heavy on my back, and my feet feeling like my shoes were made of lead. I sat down at my desk, my face red. The teacher slowly read out my name on the roll, edging away from me as she did. And that was when I left.


I ran and I ran and I ran. All the way home. Away from my small school, towards my even smaller house. I burst through the front door, tears streaming down my face. My mum dropped her cup of tea and rushed over to me. I breathed in her sweet scent as she cradled my head in her arms.


Charlie made me feel better. He let me bury my face in his long, thick, golden fur. That was how he became my therapy dog. School got easier. Kids started to get used to me. The principal even organized a fundraiser for a cure for cancer. But some days I would get teased. And I would go home and cry. But Charlie was always there. By year 6, life felt normal. I fit in. Everyone acted like I was no different from them. But high school was a whole different story.


Boys laughing, girls whispering. No empty seats in the cafeteria. No one wanting to sit next to me in class. I guess I should have expected it. But for some reason, I thought that, just once, kids would be able to accept me. But I was wrong.


Going home on the bus was no different. To the other kids, cancer was just another reason to tease me. They didn’t know about all the doctor’s appointments, or how hard it was for my parents to see me deteriorating.


I walked through my front gate, head hanging low. I could still hear the kids laughing as the bus drove away. Mum was standing in the doorway, her face sorry and sad. I clapped my hands 3 times, my signal for Charlie to come. But I didn’t hear the gentle padding of his paws, and his cute bark. I looked to my mum, searching her face for answers. Her eyes were red and puffy, and when she spoke, her voice was hoarse, as if she had been crying.

“I’m so, so sorry.”


So it turns out that Charlie died of blood cancer- the same disease that I have. The day after he passed away, I didn’t go to school. I just lay on my bed, wondering ‘why me?’ I wanted to know why I had been chosen to have cancer. After Charlie died, everything changed. The world seemed dimmer, darker. The bright, green parks that surrounded my house seemed grey, dead. It seemed that the whole world was working against me. I found it so easy to drown our people’s voices so that all I could hear was white noise.


My parents bought me another puppy. She was a poodle, and her name was Daisy. But she wasn’t the same as Charlie. She would yap all night, and whenever I tried to pat her, she would bite me. Eventually, my parents sold her. My mum started to home school me. Doctor’s appointments started to clash with mainstream school, but my parents still wanted me to get an education. Secretly, I was relieved when my parents pulled me out of school. I wouldn’t get started at as much, and I wouldn’t have to face the cafeteria, where everyone had a seat at a table but me.


2 months after we sold Daisy, we were contacted by the owners of the house behind us. The doorbell rung halfway through my mum teaching me history, so I was grateful for the interruption. At the door was a middle aged man, a golden retriever by his side. My mind immediately flashed back to Charlie. His golden fur, and his chocolate brown eyes sparkling in the sun. I flashed back to reality when the man started talking about Charlie. My Charlie.


The man explained that Charlie had ‘visited’ his dog, Molly, several times. He gestured to the golden retriever beside him. The man then told us that 6 weeks ago, Molly had given birth to puppies.


And from behind his back, he pulled out a tiny, golden retriever puppy. I gasped, tears in my eyes. He handed the dog to me and I gazed into it’s chocolate brown eyes and buried my face in it’s golden fur.

“She’s all yours.” The man said gently.

I called the puppy Jessie. She was as sweet natured as Charlie, and I’d sort of forgotten how cute puppies were. Sometimes I would think that Charlie had puppies to leave me a piece of him. And sometimes, when I look into Jessie’s eyes, I see Charlie looking back at me, telling me to never give up hope and reminding me that he will always be in my heart.

Posted in School Stuff, Writing

Poem About Me!

I am the girl who likes fluffy cats,

I am the student who wears her school hat.

I am the daughter that is Italian,

I am the Australian who is a Melbournian.

I am the daughter who cares for her mum,

I am the friend who has lots of fun.

I am Ella!

Posted in Writing

The Life Story Of A Fork

Hello. My name is Fork, and today you will be reading my life story.

I was born in the Kmart cutlery factory in Sydney, Australia. When I was 1, I was shipped to the US in a big box. All the individual forks were covered in bubble wrap. I could see my family on the other side of the box, but there was too much bubble wrap between us to reach them. When I was taken out of the bubble wrap, I was placed in a store, on a rack next to my parents. We were finally bought by a man and were taken to his cutlery drawer.


When I was 2, I was taken out of the cutlery drawer for the first time. It was very scary, because I had never been away from my parents. I remember being dropped harshly on the table. I was terrified at first, but soon made friends with Spoon and Knife.


When I was young, I was shy and scared. But with the help of Spoon and Knife, I slowly came out of my shell. In fact, it was with the help of those 2 lifelong friends that I am where I am now. I work in a rip- off bakery. I know it seems lame, but it was the best place in town to find a well paid job. I remember Spoon cheering me on when I got the job. I get teary every time I think of her.


Spoon is my everything. The love of my life. Unfortunately, 2 weeks ago I received news that my wife, Spoon, has suffered minor head injury. She has recovered in hospital, but the news still shocked me. She was illegally placed in the top drawer of the dishwasher, where she was knocked around amongst Bowl and Plate. The main suspect for putting her there was the cutlery drawer owner’s son, a boy named Timmy. He is only 3, but is being questioned tomorrow.


Although Spoon has almost recovered completely, I am still worried for the future of our unborn baby. 1 week before the accident, we revived news that Spoon was 1 week pregnant with our baby. The doctors have reassured us that the baby will come out safely, but I still have a worry in my gut that the baby will be somehow damaged.

Sometimes I just like to sit and think about how I have been blessed. Thinking about how my life started out, a little fork, taken away from its home and forced to make friends. Those friends, Spoon and Knife, have helped me through my hard times and have supported me these past 37 years.


My dream is to work in Gordon Ramsay’s kitchen. Because I was born in Kmart, I want to prove that anyone can achieve   greatness, whether you are born in a cheap store like Kmart or an expensive one like Gordon Ramsay’s. I want to cancel out all store racism.


I hope that Spoon and our baby, follow the same path in our lives. But if we split up and go our different ways, I will always remember my loving wife as a spoon who taught me so much and made me who I am today.


Have a look at Mietta’s Life Story Of A Spoon at Miette’s Blog