@felix
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Hi Beth
This is my Homework.
Thanks for the lesson.
Voting is a crucial part to democracy and is popular in many countries. The definition of the word voting is to have access to public general elections and voting is also currently illegal until the minimum age of eighteen years old. I believe that the minimum voting age should be decreased to the age of thirteen so more young people can experience the voting process.
Lowering the voting minimum age will increase the amount of votes in most countries and will increase the suspense between the parties. Also young teenagers will have a chance to join political parties and succeed in general elections. Imagine an intelligent teenager sitting behind the desk at Downing Street Number 10. The world would chaos right? Well, we have never given an under eighteen permission to vote or become prime minister so why don’t we try the idea out or at least interview some children (teens) on what they would do as a political leader.
Increasing the minimum age would be disastrous: imagine less votes, more people looking forward to being able to vote, and less potential prime ministers. The only logical decision in this debate is to interview and test the idea of young political leaders. This will at least prove if this idea is beneficial or not. Join me and together we will finally lower the voting minimum age to thirteen years old. Support me, and maybe your son will be the first young prime minister. I will now leave you to contemplate the decision.
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HI BETH. HERES MY HW.
It’s amazing how much chaos can happen when friends go camping in a wild, verdant forest. We arrived at the whistling, watching forest at mid afternoon, when the wisps of scorching sun rained down on us. That’s when the first of the terrible anarchy began. Thomas and James rushed off into the emerald foliage while me and Luis prepared for an exciting forest fight. Forest fights were common between us four, we’d collect acorns, sticks, rocks and any other weapon and at midnight, when the darkest hour reigned, we’d begin. Thomas immediately melted into the whistling woods while James took a strategic path, finding tracks and trails of bird nests and squirrel homes, seeking only the most spectacular weapons. For I had the most experience with forest fights, I led Lius into a familiar clearing (which I used every time we came) and dug up an ample amount of acorns and rocks, a rippling pool of water and an abundance of stripped twigs and thick branches and boughs. “We’re almost ready,” I stated and darted into the clumps of foliage, Luis wandering behind. Rapidly and skilfully, I found a ridiculously wide, gnarly tree that cantered the vast forest and set a plastic peg into a swallow hole at the wide base. Again and again, I fitted sturdy handholds and footholds into the robust trunk and eventually reached the towering top. Leaves as thin as paper scratched at my grazed, blushing cheeks as ripped of some iron tools that hung at the very summit of the enormous oak. I’d bring these here beforehand to create pitfall (that were filled with oozing, sticky mud) and saw of logs to hollow that acted as hiding spots. At midnight, after a lavish meal of sausages, we took one torch each and headed into the twinkling forest in teams. Me and Luis sprinted through a moonlit trail, leaping over our own squelchy pitfall traps and avoiding noise. From a long distance my ears sensed a squelch nearby. I rolled behind a rustling hedge, watching Thomas struggling in knee deep mud. I threw a thoroughly painted acorn at Thomas, marking a scarlet marking on his forehead, showing that he was out. Retrieving stones from his pocket, Thomas rapidly rained me with bright red pebbles and I took cover in a smooth hollow log from earlier. I realised that Luis had disappeared from my sight, melting into the darkening woods, leaving no trail. Like a stubby worm, I wriggled out, pulling Thomas out so he could retreat to camp. Then, I darted through the forest with the determination of a furious tiger, searching for Luis. After searching, I realised he must’d been caught. Just me and James. I drew a sturdy bough from my pocket and dripped red cranberry juice on the rough tip. Then, I waited in a prickly hedge of stubby leaves. After a few minutes, I found James, rushing hastily. Stealthily, I dived behind and stuck out the gnarled branch,he tripped and a scarlet mark was emblazoned on his bouncy trainers. I’d won.
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Don’t you think that children always get blamed for problems just because they’re young. Adults believe that just because they’re older, have more experience and have power over certain things, they can blame lower people like children for their society problems. We children are demonised by this over balance in power and may be forced to take blame for everything little mistake adults make. After interviewing Miss Cosmos, the strict science teacher, I also learnt that adults will tend to get used to this unacceptable behaviour. Mister Card, our art teacher, has said that he uses children to take blame of the ruined equipment in the art room, though has revealed that he actually wrecks the expensive equipment himself when behaving childishly. That probably explains why some of you have been blamed for breaking the new hot glue gun. Rapid rumours have been spreading throughout the students as to whether Marcus Adams really cracked the enormous, beloved beaker of Miss Cosmos’ and I personally think she did it herself. Teachers are always like a running rabbit when they’re blaming student; last week I was told off by Mister Galaxy (the sports teacher) for popping a basketball which I certainly didn’t do and I saw in person that Mister Galaxy had popped it when shooting at the hoop! Adults always blame the first child in sight they’re blaming and now it feels like even the windows are watching us intensely. Strangely, this information has never reached the school paper before and I hope that my research has helped a lot of you children. Please change your ways, teachers and you better do it quick…
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I think the moral of this book is don’t be rude to relatives that are new to you because the new relative might not like it or she might plan against you.To also support my idea ,Maia went to the twins but they bullied her.Luckily,they got what they deserved as they worked for Lady Parsons in England in the end of the book.In addition,Maia got treated fairly at the end of the story as she went back to the Mayfair Academy for Girls.The twins,Beatrice and Gwendolyn were rude to their distant relatives, but got what they deserved.Mr and Mrs Carter were rude too because Mr Carter went back for his box of eyeballs instead of Maia.He had lied that he was going to go back for Maia a but he went back for eyeballs. Maia (at the end of the story)was treated much better than the twins.
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Varjak Paw
I think the morals of this book is trust and to learn from your mistakes.Firstly ,the book is about trust because Varjak trusted his Grandfather to go on an adventure .He trusted his grandfather when he quickly went outside to find a dog. he needed to scare an evil gentleman away with a dog. On his first adventure he did not trust himself and he thought he had failed his whole mission. In addition, Vaják did not trust Sally Bones when he didn’t think she knew a lot about the way, but it turned out that she did know the way, as a result he couldn’t defeat Sally Bones. Trust is the seventh and hardest skill of the way and if you have strong trust you could do anything, but if you have weak trust you cannot do many things.
Secondly, the book‘s moral is to learn from your mistakes because Varjak made a mistake which was thinking a car was a dog ,and he kept doing it even though Holly told him that they were cars not dogs, and because of that he didn’t ever find a dog. I also think that learning from mistakes is important or you will do it twice and keep doing it and you will never stop. Varjak learnt from his mistakes and he found a dog in the end,.
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