Across the academic year there are a number of opportunities given to pupils to create original writing, sometimes with little more than a title to inspire and sometimes with a greater degree of direction. One such opportunity was given to Year 8 pupils on the 27th January, which is Holocaust Remembrance Day.
At Edge Grove, we had been given by the National Literacy Trust, a set of books from author Tom Palmer called After the War, which tells the true story of a number of children liberated from death camps at the end of the Second World War, who came to the English Lake District for rehabilitation. A number of pieces of work, inspired by this story, were written by Year 8 pupils and shared with the National Literacy Trust. I am delighted to share the news that two pieces of writing have been chosen for publication, and poems from Stephen Shaw and Louis Phillips Bhan can be found on the website of The Lake District Holocaust Project alongside work from other schools from across the nation:
National Literacy Trust | THE LAKE DISTRICT HOLOCAUST PROJECT You can also read their poems below.
Poem by Louis Phillips Bhan As children run through green pastures, Trying to forget their past, Holding back the memories, Of past disasters, Will they be free at last, Be saved by remedies, For hidden fractures. They must be saved fast, Or they will be conquered by their nemeses, The buried scars deep inside of them, The death and despair that surrounds them, Until they stumble down onto the grass, And try to block the pain, That will always be with them. As children run through green pastures, Holding back the memories, Trying to forget their past, They must be saved - fast.
Windermere by Stephen Shaw Travelling on that solemn train, Thoughts of my family, I shed a tear, Inside my heart was nothing but pain, As we travelled to Windermere.
Torture, suffer, misery was all I knew, Flashbacks to corpses and blood and the fear It was scary travelling after WWII, Was it just another holocaust at Windermere?
At first, I was scared and all my family were dead, In England with strangers and just me all alone, But there was no torture, no guards - just basketfuls of bread, I had fresh sheets and new clothes I could finally call my own.
It all clicked, Windermere was just a safe place, Where I could create everlasting bonds, I couldn’t describe the smile on my face when we would laugh as we dived into the lakes and the ponds. I was a boy again, the skies are clear, The grass is green in Windermere.