French Fashion Show 2017

Aujourd’hui, l’année 6 a tenu son défilé de mode français annuel. Le thème de cette année était les drapeaux africains et les enfants vêtus des couleurs du drapeau d’un pays africain. Beaucoup de pays étaient représentés, mais le plus populaire était l’Ouganda car c’est notre thème d’étude ce terme. En outre, les enfants sont très conscients que notre école jumelée, l’école primaire de Kafuro, est en Ouganda.

Avec beaucoup de style, les enfants ont marché sur le podium, ont montré leurs vêtements et parlé de ce qu’ils portaient en français! Ils ont aussi chanté des chansons françaises!

Année 6 remercie tous les parents qui sont venus et regardé plus M. Haycock, qui a fait la mise en scène look si atmosphérique.


And for our non-French speakers:

Today, Year 6 held their annual French Fashion Show. This year’s theme was African flags and the children dressed in the colours of the flag of an African country. Many countries were represented, but the most popular was Uganda as it is our study focus this term. Also, the children are very aware that our twinned school, Kafuro Primary School, is in Uganda.

With great style, the children walked down the catwalk, showed off their clothes and talked about what they were wearing in French! They also sang some French songs!

Year 6 would like to thank all the parents who came and watched plus Mr Haycock, who made the staging look so atmospheric.


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African Printing

In art, Rowan Class have been looking at African patterns as we are learning about Uganda. The first thing we did was practise printing, as most of us didn’t know how to do this. We got into groups and worked on how to print different patterns. We had to roll acrylic paint on a palette until it was nice and thick and then we had to roll it on to a polystyrene tile on which we had created a design. The next step was to place the tile on black paper and push it down.

After that, we looked at different African patterns. We researched the patterns at home and brought in some examples to discuss which patterns would be best for our final design. We created an African design in our art books and traced it on to tracing paper, which was then put on to a new polystyrene tile. With a sharp pencil, we dug out the polystyrene on the design lines so it was deep enough. Once this was completed we created a pattern using several tiles on paper before repeating the process on fabric. We left the fabric to dry and in the coming weeks they will be turned in to wall hangings.



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Father of the bride’s speech – La Maison en Petits Cubes

In English, we have been studying the Oscar winning animated short, La Maison en Petits Cubes. We sequenced the film and then looked carefully at the wedding of the man’s daughter. We decided to write the father of the bride’s speech. The children had a choice of whether they wanted to make a more traditional speech or one which implied disapproval at the man’s son – in – law. Here’s Lois’ writing.

Dear friends and family,

Firstly, I must welcome you all to my wonderful daughter, Florence, and her groom, Ben’s, wedding. When she was little, my wife and I saw her lovely face poking out of her little cot. She was so beautiful, just like her mother, and it was always lovely to see her face light up when she had an idea. I never knew she was going to grow up and go out with lots of boys, including Ben, who was very surprising!

When Florence got older, we noticed how clever she was as every time we looked at her, she was reading. She was always determined to try new things at school, and when Florence went to University, we got informed by one of her friends at how popular she was with the boys! We were even more surprised when she brought home Ben, and said he was a dustman! He must have had a lot of good things about him that we did not know!

I have not known Ben for a long time because he proposed to Florence within six months, so Florence must have liked him! All I know about him, is he is the person my daughter loves, so I let him marry her.

I hope Ben will look after Florence, so she can carry on the lovely life we gave her. I hope that he will protect her with all of his life, and make her happy. Florence is delighted about this marriage, and can’t wait to travel the world with Ben, as she has always wanted to do.

I shall look forward to seeing them in the future, and I wish Ben and Florence the best of luck. I hope Ben will look after Florence and treat her with love and respect. I hope you live happily together.

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Rowan Class hakas

In dance we are following the unit, ‘World of Sport.’ This involves the children creating their own hakas. The children looked at footage of how the New Zealand rugby team has developed their own haka and also some of the previous hakas created by Class AS in the past.

The children then set to work on creating  their own hakas with a focus on intimidation, a range of movement, synchronicity and working at a range of levels. The hakas are available to watch below.


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Additional stanzas in the style of Timothy Winters by Charles Causley

Since the start of this term we have been looking at the poetry of Charles Causley. Last week, the class produced some excellent homework where they researched the life of Causley. This week, the children have been looking carefully at one of Causley’s greatest poems – Timothy Winters.

The poem paints a grim picture of a boy who has been neglected, and the struggles he faces in life. As a class we identified all of the problems that Timothy encountered and used this to inspiration to write our own additional stanzas. Below, you will find the original poem, then some examples from Rowan Class children.

Download (DOCX, 14KB)

Timothy Winters

 Timothy Winters is rather confused

Of why he is always being abused.

His Grandma and father are always drunk

Which makes Timothy Winters smell like a skunk.


His feet are like blocks of shiny ice,

And his poor house is filled with mice.

He’s like a waterfall, crying, crying

And deep inside he knows he is dying.


Timothy’s house is always cold.

The small bits of food are covered in mould.

At school he would always sneak in and steal,

He has never had a decent meal.


When he gets home, he looks for a drink,

But can only find drips in the kitchen sink.

He always has to go to bed,

With bloody feet and an aching head.


On the next morning he goes to church,

And waits behind a silver birch.

He walks in, trying not to think

Of when he gets home what he has to drink.

By Lois L


Timothy Winters

His dad and grandma are always drunk,

So he smells just like a skunk.

Sometimes it looks like he is confused,

It’s probably because he’s always abused.


When he was younger he always was crying,

Inside it looks like he is secretly dying.

Timothy Winters sits in the cold ,

Watching the sink get clogged up with mould.


Sometimes he thinks about going out to steal;

Just so he can have a decent meal.

His abusive father always drinks ;

Instead of fixing the  kitchen sink.


He dreams for a better day,

But that’s easier to dream than to say.

People say he has the flu ,

But I doubt that that is true.


To him people are always mean,

Even when he tries not to be seen.

So to Timothy Winters we will pray,

No matter what other people say.



Timothy Winters

When Timothy is home there is nothing to drink,

Just drips of water coming from the kitchen sink.

Timothy Winters is secretly crying,

Deep inside he knows he is dying.


When he’s at school, he doesn’t want to be seen,

All the children there are rude and mean.

Timothy Winters is always confused,

Timothy Winters is constantly abused.


Sometimes, because of the lack of his meals,

Timothy Winters has to steal.

Timothy’s house is cold as ice,

His home is filled with rats and mice.


Timothy’s father is always drunk,

He never bathes and smells like a skunk.

The bread he eats is stale and cold,

It’s crunchy and disgusting with splodges of mould.


Old Man Winters misses Timothy’s mother,

But Timothy Winters doesn’t bother.

Timothy Winters is awfully shy,

Sometimes he wishes he could just die.




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Using a painting to inspire writing

In English, we used a painting at the end of last term to inspire some writing. The painting was An Experiment on a Bird in the Air Pump by Joseph Wright. The children had to take on the role of one of the participants in the painting and write the scene from their point of view. Here’s Mimi’s writing – can you guess whose point of view she’s writing from.

I shaded my eyes. In front of me was a beautiful cockatoo, and this worm scientist was going to suffocate it. I was so disgusted, I felt like I would bring up my dinner.

I was going to scream “STOP!” but as I started to shout, Father covered my mouth and pulled me back.

“Respect your elder’s Penelope.” Father whispered. The evil scientist glared at all of us with his lightning blue eyes.

“Ladies and gentlemen, we gather here for a special event….” I covered my ears to block him out; instead, I looked over at my older sister, Madeline, and rolled my eyes. She and Noah were gazing into each other’s eyes (as always. I’m surprised she even sleeps at night not staring into the hazelnut eyes of Prince Charming). How ghastly. It makes me want to vomit at the thought.

I gazed over at my little sister, Elizabeth. She looked incredibly frightened, but she was ever so curious, so she locked her eyes on the bird, not knowing what would happen next. I held on to her as the scientist slowly pumped the air out of the cockatoo.

My eyes were going blurry and I was tearing up. I needed to get out. I felt my anxiety getting stronger and stronger. My throat started to close up while I choked on my tears. The cockatoo slowly grew motionless as the air was stolen from the glass prison.

Father smirked as the cockatoo slowly suffocated. I stomped on his foot in rage. How could he smile when such a beautiful bird is being murdered?

Father glared at me, and saw how pale I was. But he just grabbed my wrist and pulled me out of the wine cellar.

“Penelope! How dare you! You cannot stomp on my feet! I don’t know what has gotten into you! Go to your room!” father was full of rage, and I knew that if I didn’t hurry, I would get the cane for sure.

I ran up the stairs, and it all felt as if I was in slow motion. Suddenly, I stumbled back, unable to breathe, and collapsed down the grand staircase.


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