Category: Hanga | Create

Mosquito Life Cycle

For my reading I have created a mosquito life cycle. We read about the elephant mosquito and how they grow in drops of water and don’t need blood to survive. When elephant mosquitoes are larvae, they eat their prey by launching their head and dragging its prey to its jaw. The good thing about them is that they help get rid of  annoying blood-sucking mosquitoes.

Arlo and the Orca


Anger feels like letting your rage out 

A clenched fist 

Blood, salty sweat

Growling and yelling 

Rough and Hot 

Like a red a face

Anger smells like danger 

Like air 

Shouting and screaming 

Painful and hurtful

Madness and crazy actions of destruction 

Like smoke

Burning cold 

A fire raging and growing limitlessly 

Anger is an emotion you want to show or not 

It starts when we get upset 

About something. 

A collaborative poem written by all of Room . This poem express our feelings about anger looking through the eyes of Arlo form Alro and the Orca by Monique Walker

This week Monique and Stacey came to class and presented Monique’s book. WE learnt that its okay to cry and that life can be moody stormy with waves of emotion BUT to remember the sun will always come back and shine.

Room 8 wanted to say thank for Monique and Stacey for having the opportunity to do your program and having the time to show your work and for Jessie and Catherine for showing their amazing performance

Diary Entry 2

I lay hopelessly on this decayed, rock feeling boat. The radiance of the sun beams onto the shimmering crystal ocean. A deafening roar flies by, are we finally being saved after stranded on this endless water. All my hopes went high, it all shattered like pieces of glass, watching it fly away. Another plane had come, one of the members had told us to put some unfamiliar shapes on the floor, they said it meant something, it was our only hope. “The plane is coming” we wave our hands high, high up in the clouds but still left unnoticed. Here I am again laying hopelessly, is this it I asked myself. After feeling miserable  a large ship called the Tampa passes by. The kind captain lets us go on the Tampa, I step out of the old boat watching the water swallow it slowly leaving all our things behind.

Diary Entry 1

It’s dark out, nothing else, just pure black, my mother’s shivering hands tap my shoulder. Creaking noises, zipped up bags, my body is half asleep. I try to widen my eyes but my eyes flicker like a broken light. My mother said in a soft voice “pack your things, we’re leaving.” Why were we leaving? I asked myself all these questions swirling around my clueless mind, I stuff my things in my tiny bag trying to take as much as I can. I rush out the door into the breezy murky forest. The trees waving, the owls hooting, the wind howling. A mysterious engine noise comes out of the shadows, the glistening lights shine on my half open eyes, it was the bus. My mother drags my sluggish body onto the bus. Where were we going?