We Are The Players - Excelsior Academy - 2018

We Are The Players An anthology of creative writing by students from Excelsior Academy

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We Are The Players An anthology of creative writing by students from Excelsior Academy

Acknowledgements We Are The Players was published as part of Young Writers’ City; a New Writing North project that introduces young people to creative writing and makes provision for those who find a talent or interest in expressing themselves creatively. Since September 2015, New Writing North has worked in partnership with Excelsior Academy to deliver Young Writers’ City. The project is led by professional writers and aims to give young people, especially those from under-represented groups, the opportunity to express their own ideas, thoughts and opinions through creative writing. ©The Authors, 2016/2017 Cover design by Mark Warner. Artwork by Velcrobelly.

Introduction We Are The Players was created as part of the long-term project at Excelsior Academy in Newcastle-upon-Tyne. Between the summer term of 2016 and the summer term of 2017, poet Bob Beagrie worked with around 200 students across eight English classes to break down the barriers to creative writing, inspiring the students to write their own original poetry. One student who worked with Bob said that he had taught her that, “anyone can write poems.”

This publication is a sample of only a small selection of the innumerable pieces of work produced over this time.

Thanks To Bob Beagrie, Emily Wiseman, Lizzie Nixon, Anna Disley and all the staff at Excelsior Academy for championing the project, especially Natalie Bryce, Jasmin Jobe, Faith Patterson, Rebecca Youens, Ali Kain, Louise Old and Craig Taylor.

Special thanks to every student who has taken part in the project, who have shown courage and enthusiasm and who who have brought their unique voices and perspectives to this anthology.

Foreword

This anthology is the result of a residency with Year 8 and Year 9 classes across all three schools within Excelsior Academy throughout 2016 – 2017, during which we explored a wide range of approaches to creative writing and imaginative play, with students reflecting upon their real and virtual environments, their emotions, experiences and sense of identity, their ideas around Utopian and Dystopian societies and their responses to local, national and global issues. The writing activities fostered collaboration and free expression, encouraging the students to translate their worlds into words, to weave together myth and the mundane, to transform the ordinary into the extra-ordinary, to investigate chains of consequences, to question assumptions and to peer beneath surface appearances to uncover deeper layers of meaning.

The work collected here runs through a number of interlinked themes: from the idea of being trapped in a computer game or elements of virtual games filtering into ordinary life, to personifications and curious encounters with weather, to the metamorphosis of the city and its features and inhabitants.

This anthology contains some truly astonishing work, showing a sophistication of form and penetrating insights. Through the perspectives of these talented young writers the city of Newcastleupon-Tyne is repainted as a place of flux, dreams, desires and transformations, where nothing is as it appears, a place in limbo between this and that, floating between childhood and adulthood with all of the uncertainty, instability and emotional turbulence that accompanies adolescence; where your only hope of survival is to level-up and learn to navigate the maze of rules and relationships through continual practice and play.

Bob Beagrie

Transported Last week I was thinking how The world gives us sudden little clues That something bad is about to accrue.

People are going to be seriously hurt Possibly leading to death.

The next day I woke up And couldn’t see anyone, The world was like an abandoned cupboard.

I sat and thought Could I be the only person left in the world?

A world with just me Dan

If The City Was a Game (Hadrian)

The Nature of The Game

Is This a Game?

Lost in the fog of the forest Scared of the unknown Suspense and tension builds The atmosphere in the temple The sound of footsteps echo Along the bridges

You notice you are a square.

A square body, a square head.

This is a game of mystery, collect wood, make tools.

Tapping quickly is the key.

Build a shelter just to sleep, don’t make any risky moves.

Gather supplies, find food.

This is a game of judgement.

Beware of mobs and creepers.

This is a game of skill and speed, knowledge and charm you’ll need.

Try your best not to be killed, although it is certain you will die.

You need to use statistics, in this game of evil white tiles.

You’ll need to have a strategy if you plan to survive.

De-dum-de-dum-de-dum And the trees rustle They’re after you!

They’re coming!

De-dum-de-dum-de-dum And the trees rustle The king of the monkey birds Is out there to get you Listen to them shriek – Follow all the twists and turns Collect the coins Level up Don’t fall, keep calm Don’t let them touch you Don’t lose your head Just run, jump, duck To survive Aisha, Laia, Laila, Migle & Rhihana

Bethany

New World Order

The Rules of The Game

Submerge into another world; a new dimension to meet a perfect girl.

The rules are Do not hack Do not go offside

You enter Orangana, listen for the horn, beware of piranhas.

When you die you only get one re-spawn; one bullet, one knife.

Protect your life.

You collect money You buy a gun You score a goal You steal a car You tackle to gain the ball

It’s last man standing like it’s World War 3.

One bullet, one knife, the key is accuracy.

Team death match, you’re on your feet.

Better be good or you’ll face defeat.

Explosions in the city, civilians run like crazy.

This game, it is a war without end.

So who are you?

Are you foe, or are you friend?

Abid, Abdul, Justin & Callum

Adults say,

“It’s inappropriate for children They should be doing homework.”

The aim of the game is to win the league To get a medal To gain fame so everyone knows your name To get your photo in the paper and on TV You score a goal You steal a car You tackle to gain the ball You buy a gun You take a chase from the police You complete a heist To own the pictures To own a big house To own a fast, expensive car The rules are: there are no rules.

Macy, Medeega, Kerryane & Paige

In The Game

What Kind of Game Is This?

I am trapped in a game of people, where you can’t trust anyone, where I have to stand up for myself.

I am trapped in a game of snakes, they tell me what to do, where I’m treated as a child but told to act like an adult.

I am trapped in a game of lies where everyone wears fake smiles

I am trapped in a game of popularity I am trapped in a game where everyone has to win a bonus I am trapped in a game of happiness I am trapped in a game of worries I am trapped in a game of false friends I can win the game by being careful With those who pretend to be my friends I am trapped in a game where you have to try your best I am trapped in a game called childhood

Nikola

Adelina

The Terrible Game I am trapped in a game of bloodthirsty vampires where I have no control over what I do.

Nobody knows what it’s like to be me; there is no escape.

Crimson blood is consuming us all, day by day we indulge in their lifestyle.

If only I knew how to get out of this mysterious mayhem.

I want my life back.

Molly & Paige

Lost In The Game

The Call, The Duty, The Game

The aim is to complete the missions.

Anger makes you cry.

Rank up your level Gain prestige It’s an endless game That you can never complete

Race around capturing Pokémon.

You should never help your friends.

People say this game wakes you up from dreams about good memories and bad things in the future.

Some say, this game is dangerous, it could lead you anywhere and you end up completely lost.

Adela & Naomi

It’s a race to kill It’s last man standing It’s an assassination of pixels It’s a bank robbery Rank up your level Gain prestige If you’re destroyed just start again And again, and again It’s an endless game You can never complete It’s a race to kill It’s last man standing It’s an assassination of a million pixels Enemy’s UAV inbound Scramble, sprint, dolphin dive to shelter Hide behind doors, hide behind walls There’s what it was and what it became It was a peaceful place, a hopeful dream Disrupted and destroyed full of fear and shame Rank up your level, Gain prestige It’s an endless game That you can never complete.

Callum, Dan, Kevin

Is This a Game?

I was lying at the very edge of the bed but slipped off and landed with a thud, rolled across the carpet like a commando, grabbing my pillow as if it was a gun.

In the kitchen I see enemy soldiers.

In my hand there is a pokéball; I throw it as if it is a grenade.

It hits my mum in the back, she chases after me and hits me with a sandal.

On the way to school I take the bus, it’s a mix of school kids and old people.

There’s a man sleeping across the aisle.

I watch him evolve into a Pidgeot.

My breakfast apple becomes a reviving crystal so I throw it at him and it turns back into an apple “Why are you throwing apples at that old man?”

The bus driver yells and orders me off the bus.

I have to walk the rest of the way and I’m late for school Ahmed

When The Weather Comes to Life (Milburn)

Cloud Burst

Grandma Drizzle

Tick, a thousand dreams fall onto a thousand tiles, pour down onto houses, parks, shops, into puddles.

Darkness covers every inch of the night.

Old Grandma Drizzle knitting sheets of rain

Like a machine gun, Tick ruins everything, it is everywhere.

It struggles through the small crack in the ceiling, into a bucket that catches each transparent drop.

Tick Tick Tick, now it gets quicker.

It fills the streets and looks for someone else to bother.

It hits the green hairs of the earth, turns brown black.

It runs into drains, it is stranded in the streets.

It grows every minute, streetlights reveal it; Bright beams shining from long black poles, guiding feet as they plod toward home.

Yuri

Eating candy as soft as the clouds Making it all lash down.

Stroking her pet cat, grey as the angry overcast sky Letting go of tears.

On the way to the bus stop Grandma Drizzle was dripping her left-over tears on my shoulder I saw her out of the corner of my eye.

Carlie

Mist-Stress

What a Wall Is

She is lying gracefully in her cloudlike bed.

She’s in heaven, floating above all, dreaming what life is like down there.

Thoughts speed back like a racing car.

I wake from a snap of dreams and realise that I’m on my bunk bed.

A wall separates me and you A wall isolates private from public A wall is a fine concrete bench A wall is a meeting place Feelings are hidden behind walls A wall never shows its interior A wall exposes the exterior

She is crying for no reason at life around her.

How people get close, and people go away.

Trying to get away from it but can’t run, she’s lost!

She’s stuck!

Where to go from here?

She is walking into the world beyond; new faces, more memories, more friends.

People say she won’t like big school, but she takes it as an opportunity for happiness.

Kira

Samia

Setting Off

Memory Mash-Up

She packs her things and sighs as the journey ahead of her is long.

Her bag is thrown on to her lap as she sits on the cold leather seats of the car.

In the bag she has her phone, money, and head phones.

She rests her head on the back.

In Australia, and she is taking a selfie with the family.

She is putting on a V neck shirt and a pair of jeans.

It is sunny, there are lots of people, she is happy.

She is crying when her sister gets burned by fire; she is playing with a light outside and all of her leg is burned.

Then, she is trying to help her by throwing a bucket of water over her and stop the fire before taking her to the hospital, and her mum was not at home, and it was so close to Christmas.

This had to be a good day for her, she woke up to the sound of a high-pitched pop.

Excitement filled her lungs as she shot out of bed, she scurried down the stairs with a cheery smile plastered on her face.

Hafsah

She is at after-school club cooking, she is laughing and giggling as she bakes her chocolate muffins, her friend is licking her lips.

She is wearing her black school trousers with her white shirt and grey jumper and an apron as red as a tomato.

She can hear people putting trays on the bench.

She takes a deep breath and can smell the chocolate cookies the teacher made.

She is standing there and she is shaking with fear.

She slowly paces up to the group and sees her friend.

She feels like she rules the world.

She says, “is this Muy Thai� and she smelled all the sweat, and heard people breathing deeply, and she started sparring.

She stands, waiting for her friend.

She shows up as they both approach Primark.

They enter and go up the escalators, she almost does the splits.

She was scared of escalators, her leg stretches, she drops her bag the pain is getting too much.

Her friend just laughs.

She reaches the top, goes back to get her bag, and leaves to carry on shopping.

Laura

Where I Live

Chill Sister

I live between the moon and the sun I live between my birth and death I live between heaven and hell I live between two continents, America and Asia I live between my dreams and nightmares

Drifting off silence is upon me except for the sound of rain growing louder.

Mohammed

Out of the window, and there – a girl, see-through like water; closer to me, the rain flows around us.

I stare into her weeping eyes, she stares into mine Courtney

Who

A View of the City

Who do you think you are?

The silence in the night

On top of Lobbly Hill, a girl trapped between thoughts.

Who do you think you are?

The shadows in the corner Who do you think you are?

The voice within the music Who do you think you are?

The colours within my stories Who do you think you are?

Me, the one and only Morgan

Neither letting go nor holding on, her attention moves to the city across the water, to the places she has called home.

Memories escape from the corners of her mind, like blossom falling from branches; a perfect tornado of pink and white.

A bus shelter is a concert hall in a rain storm.

The girl stares at her phone then down the hill as if waiting for someone; to the house where nobody lives, the one that has always seemed alive.

Yasmin

Caught By Doctor Downpour

Life

She stands in the middle of the car park stranded amongst his tumbling cats and dogs.

She looks around in despair, searching for something to look at, freezing beneath her furry coat. Raindrops race to splash her skin, caught in the darkness of shivering water. The bright lights of the stadium catch her eye.

She is stuck there, surrounded by his flowing voice and depression.

The wind glides about her. Headlights shine off the tarmac. It is dripping with a regular beat, creating a spreading puddle on the mosaic tiles.

She is sitting on a red brick wall wearing a sleeveless baby pink top.

The sun is kissing her shoulders.

She stops and listens to the singing birds, the wind softly brushes her hair.

She smiles because she realises that she is happy with what her life is like.

She feels goose-bumps rise on her arms.

Her pupils widen as she thinks to herself, “Where is it going to take me next?�

Amani

Marika

Self Portraits

Definitions

She is dancing with the sunset, blasting powerful music while the trees move their arms to dance along with her.

No one knows she is on her own, but she feels extraordinary.

Most people think that a race is colour but to us it’s a label.

Her head is sunk into a pillow.

She starts to scream so loud her bedroom floor starts to shake.

Why is she so angry?

Is it school?

She looks in the mirror and asks, “Why me?”

Her head slowly rests on her pillow.

Her stressed eyes gently close.

She wonders if life was ever like this.

She hangs one leg out of the duvet to feel the cool air, listening to the sounds of cars whipping up and down the road.

All she wants right now is quiet.

Caitlin

Most people think that a label is a group’s name but to us it’s a division.

Most people think division is separation but it is really Goodbye.

Most people think Goodbye is being polite but for us it’s divorce.

Most people think divorce is heartbreak but for us it is freedom.

Most people think freedom is fun but to us it is loneliness.

Who thinks loneliness is fun to me it is silence.

Some think that silence is solitary but to me it is peace.

Peace – no wars, no death, just tides of great white smiles.

At the beginning, happiness endures but ends in darkness and betrayal.

Everyone has felt the snake’s grip it lurks in the whispering tongues of those who hate, and hold an ambitious dream, a murderous goal.

Yuri

Skylines The cloud drifting through the wind, no one can reach it Jack

In the twilight the crescent moon reaches towards the glittering stars Mohammed

Between Hope and Hate (Milburn, Collingwood & Hadrian)

What Hope Is

The Rock

Hope is finding money in your pocket Hope is the idea that things will get better Hope is waking up with someone next to you Hope is having everything in the world Hope is free wifi Hope is equality Hope is having your loved ones near you Hope is food Hope is friendship and not being someone’s enemy Hope to succeed Hope to have you in my life Hope to get married to the perfect guy Hope to love enough Hope is not to be rough Hope to have you by my side Hope is to see you one last time Hope is a better world

a sinking moon patiently waiting to be washed away by the sea, the rough worthless home sits in everyone’s hearts

Shakira

Nichole

Hope is what dreams are made of…

Tiene Esperanza

It’s their basecoat and what makes them strong It’s the foundation of better futures

Hope is to be kept safe in the locket inside your heart A melody whispering tiene esperanza

It’s those fantasies that keep you occupied when you daydream It’s the hope of food being there on the table for you tomorrow

Remember this when you feel like everything is falling apart, Hope is to be kept safe in the locket inside your heart

Hope is like a blossoming flower, the beginning to a great existence

You have thrown away the key, Let it make its mark

Hope is freedom, it’s praying that something good will happen in your life

Hope is to be kept safe in the locket inside your heart A melody whispering tiene esperanza

Hope is optimism, it is idealistic positivity It is that first rain drop in the Sahara desert

Allana

But it’s also the mouth-watering flavour of peri peri chicken, That amazingly tangy and spicy flavour.

It’s that warmth you feel after a long road trip.

It’s that feeling when you’re fasting and know there’s food waiting.

Zara

Hope Spreads

Freedom

Hope spreads like wild fire, Once it starts it can’t be stopped People grab onto it with burning desire Hope spreads like wildfire The feeling of hope will never be dropped Hope spreads like wild fire Once it starts it can’t be stopped

something so simple, used everyday but most don’t know how much sacrifice was made.

It was once a seed but lived to die who once thought it could survive.

Different colours, different names have been through so much pain.

Lara

Angelica

Hope

My Mother is Fire

Hope is feeling things will get better soon.

Hope is falling in love and hoping they won’t leave like everyone else.

My father is water. He comes from the darkest of valleys, the wildest of rivers and the deepest of oceans. He hides in your tears, and your bleakest sorrow. He haunts your every dream and nightmare. He is the nightmare. He is the past and the present enslaved to a bitter tomorrow. But he has never been my now.

Hope is wanting your family back to the way it used to be before the struggles came.

Hope is leaving your past behind and focusing on the future.

Hope is that your scars will soon heal like they were never there in the first place.

Hope is wanting time to be alone, to go for long walks and clear your head.

Hope is wanting your depression and anxiety to fade so you can finally be happy again.

Hope is needing your broken heart to be healed.

Hope is peace and freedom.

Hope is someone making you feel better when you’re feeling down and lonely with no one by your side.

Hope is that one special person who makes our days happy and worth living.

Hope is getting through the toughest of days.

Hope is me and I am hope.

Demi

My mother is fire, bright, warm and loving. She is quick tongued and florescent. She waltzes wildly as she spreads high and low. She is the free spirit. She is the spark that ignites me, that cannot be stopped or tamed. She is the wild and ever so gracious gazelle galloping through the chestnutty brown Savannah. She is a ferocious lioness pouncing on its prey so that she can nourish her cub. She smells of the spices of freshly made Joloff. Her peppery essence haunts my nose. Her dry red dust stains the soles of my feet. She quenches my forever wandering spirit with the secrets and spices of our Great Nigeria.

Tessy

Impressions Watch the people queuing up in Greggs across the road, they want sausage rolls.

In the barbershop there is a little boy, he doesn’t want his hair cut and cries

“Let go of me!” but his Mam won’t let go.

Instead she promises sweets if he’s good.

Two men are fighting at a ticket machine, a policeman runs over to break it up; they walk away from each other but both of them keep looking back Rats scurry along the railway tracks near the platform with no hint of fear.

Summer Nights in The City (Collingwood)

Michael

The Tyne Speaks

The Angel of the North

I don’t have a perfect life, my heart is heavy as a boulder, my skin is as rough as the sand beneath me, my nerves swim up my body jumping out and diving in with a big splash.

I am hurt inside, my body with hooks and my mind is tangled.

My life is crashing against walls.

I wear my belt all of the time, it is a beautiful green colour; people love going across it but some of them have bad times.

It is also upsetting for me.

I bless them as they jump into me and sometimes I take their life and carry them to strange people who stand against the walls of my pain.

I wish I could flap my wings, I wish I could fly away into the sunset but my feet are bolted to the concrete ground.

I am held prisoner here, I am the guardian of the city.

People take selfies with me and when I look down at them they look like ants.

Jordan

Nasir

Hodgy Park

Someone Called Lee

I can feel the smashed bottles.

Children play games inside me, laughing

His Dad had died from a heart attack in bed.

Lee was feeling depressed, he had some learning difficulties and didn’t know how he was going to cope without his Dad.

I hear rats crawling through the bushes, Scooters along the paths, Adults chattering like birds.

I hear the flowing of the wind through my leaves, A little dog runs after a stick, happy as can be.

The heat from the kids’ fires damage me.

Mr Petrovic was walking along the quayside.

He saw someone jump from the bridge into the river, he dived in and swam out, then dragged the young man to safety.

There are bugs crawling all over, hunting for food.

Mr Grey called, helped them out of the water and called an ambulance, which came and took the man to hospital with serious injuries.

Mr Petrovic was a hero.

Angel, Ellie, Paige & Paige

Jordan

Touring the Surreal City I’ll take you on a journey, down into the heart of this city where the sunset is a mindless clone brainwashed by curiosity.

Where the trains are drunk and happy and the workers are a reality check.

Even the river is sweating in the Summer heat.

The bridges are dirty paths leading into night.

Children’s dreams are lurking in the streets, the trains are a wet flow of blue and white while shadows relax after a long hard day.

Jordan

Thomas The sunset is collapsing into the river.

St James’ Park is tired and hungry, it dreams it is full of cheering fans.

Where you might see how dreams are a fairground full of hope.

Is this a dream?

The streets are feeding off the scraps left by people’s picnics.

The bridges are long paths leading to magical places.

The shops are a herd of animals catching their breath, a pigeon is wrestling black ghosts who have tried to steal your wallet.

Gurbari & Mina

Martin

The dog is open late tonight.

The streets are wild after the football, our dreams play happily in the park while the river chases a man down the road.

Tyne Bridge rips apart an old kebab.

The shops are gathering around my feet.

Grey’s Monument travels at the speed of light, it tells you the sunset is just a movie that plays in your head Katie

Hide, be afraid, keep quiet, don’t blink because the whole city is shaking in fear, because the trains are full of dead bodies and the shops are covered in blood.

The dogs are killing zombies to protect their owners.

Round the back of Eldon Square where rows of bins line the alley you might meet the king of the rats, sitting on his throne of greasy pizza boxes.

James

Sir Fox You meet him in the entrance to the wood Half-human and half-fox, He can smell you coming He can hear you coming.

He’ll watch you walk through the woods He lives inside a burnt-out tree.

He might ask you a riddle He has the personality of a fox.

The city is dancing and drinking beneath a clean and lonely sunset.

Later its dreams are cold and furious.

The shadows are full of children lost within the darkness. Only Grey’s Monument is a splash of colour in the sky; as trains speed over the slow river a pigeon barks at a passing car.

Edward

Dance with the city, because it is empty like school corridors at night.

The streets are as loud as early birds, the bridges are metal rainbows, the trains are busy with new ideas.

Listen to the dog bark as the light slowly fades pigeons peck crumbs from the floor.

Nikolas

He is wise in his own way, but if you dare Double cross him he will be your nightmare Holly

Encounter Behind the Kick-Down you’ll find a red tent, fairy lights all around.

You unzip the flap and step inside where there’s a seat, a table with nothing on it.

A creature crawls in – part-chicken, part-spider.

It asks you to sit at the table so it can give you a task Paige, Paige & Ellie

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