Years 11 - 13

Tadiwanashe Mabena: ‘Hamilton is a hip-hop masterpiece’ 

Hamilton is a ground-breaking musical that seamlessly blends history and hip-hop, creating a unique theatrical experience. Lin Manuel Miranda first pitched the idea of Hamilton at the White house evening of poetry in 2009 titled “The Hamilton Mixtapes”. To quote the man himself, the musical is “a hip-hop concept album about the life of America's first treasury secretary, Alexander Hamilton.” This initial idea in turn became arguably one of the most revolutionary musicals about the American revolution.  

The musical follows the life of Alexander Hamilton, all through his childhood, love affairs and rivalries. It is brimming with historical references which makes it the perfect musical for history buffs. Hamilton also works as a way of paying homage to old school rappers by equating the struggles of Hamilton, an immigrant who started out at the bottom, to lyricists such as DMX, Mobb Deep and The Notorious B.I.G. who Lin has acknowledged that he drew inspiration from. The main themes in this musical are ambition, legacy and the complexities of humans and their relationships with each other. 

While Hamilton as a concept is already revolutionary, the writing structure takes it to a new level. Lin uses 800 motifs throughout the musical that allow certain words to be associated with an emotion or characteristic. An example of this is how the word “shot” is used continuously in the play. Initially it is used to show a juxtaposition between Hamilton's character and Burr (the man who ends Hamilton's life). This sets our main character up to be someone who takes control and acts: “I am not throwing away my shot” while Burr is a contrast to him. “Wait for it”, he constantly says. By the end of the musical, Hamilton and Burr are in a duel where Hamilton famously threw away his shot, while Burr shot him leading to his death. This is an excellent illustration of how Lin has written in a way that allows them to represent full character arcs. 

The one critique I have of this theatrical masterpiece is the complicated rhyme scheme. The rapid fire lyrics make it difficult for some audiences to fully understand. This exact reason makes it perfect for rewatching and discovering things you might not have caught up on at first for example towards the climax of the play when we are first introduced to Hamilton's son he shows his father his musical prowess by singing numbers one to ten in french which becomes relevant when he is in a duel for his fathers honour (historically in a duel you count to to ten before firing ones weapon) and dies, which is a genius way of foreshadowing. Rap in itself is not for everyone and may be hard to keep up with and the unconventional casting has sparked debate. 

A key feature in the writing of Hamilton is the sublime rhyme scheme and use of infamous flows from some rap legend's most iconic songs from Jay Z’s “Empire state of mind" to Alicia Keys’ “I'm going down”, to Mary J Blige. An example of this is in the song “Farmers Refuted.” This includes a complex and ingenious use of words where all the rhymes match in colour in the extract above: 

“This congress does not speak for me

My dog speaks more eloquently than thee 

They're playing a dang er ous game 

But strange ly your mange is the same ” 

This is just one of the many great creative decisions made by Lin. 

Lin takes some artistic liberties with the historic aspect of this story when he includes some false information for plot progression or opportunities to make witty one liners such as when Hamilton says he “punched the bursar.” This never actually happened. 

The ending of Hamilton is faultless. It ends in Hamilton's tragic death in and a full circle moment where he recites his speech from the first song titled “Alexander Hamilton”. The speech is used as a soliloquy to show where the main character is at this point in the play. The end also includes various statements from the main character about Hamilton. This ending is very cathartic due to its several references to the entire musical. 

Ultimately, I think Hamilton is a bold experiment that pushes the boundaries of traditional musical theatre that may not resonate with everyone. 

Years 9 - 10

Maysam Wahid: ‘Home, Sweet Home’

Where do you feel most at home? 

Honk, honk, honk, beep. The sounds of the streets; like a nostalgic taste of childhood. Polluted air surrounds the scene, creeping into each room. An AC in close range and a friendly voice cooking biryani, rice, spicy chicken and lamb. Its whiff sparks hunger. The same sound of the dripping droplets gets caught on the building’s edge, after a heavy earth-shaking thunder attack. 

The hard marbled floor keeps the atmosphere cool. Carpets and hardwood floors are strangers to the bare soles.  

This is the place my life began.  

The place I call my sanctuary. 

No clean streets, planned housing estates, or pale faces. Rather bellowing cars, rainy mornings, and marble hard flooring. To some, strange. Peculiar one could say. Why would anyone prefer rioting roads over the sound of silent streets?  

Those who have been displaced. 

Those that have forgotten the voice of their mother tongue.  

These thoughts sit rent-free at the very back of my mind, if you were to deep-dive, you may feel the tip of your nail touch the imagery. Such thoughts are eclipsed behind the new life filled with quiet streets, unpredictable weather and the occasional need to throw the neighbour’s ball back over the fence. Mixed with the close parameters of the countryside and coastline, Norwich is a beautiful city to become an old lady living with her three cats in a refurnished bungalow so that her back does not ache when she walks up the stairs. Building long-lasting relationships and growing apart from old ones are all a part of living life to the fullest. Instead of reliving the pain, relishing the blessing of being able to create new memories and experience exciting experiences is far more fulfilling. Isn’t that the motto of a happy life? 

Living half of my life in two completely different worlds has allowed me to see the world through two different lenses. The suffering, financial, emotional and physical are all the harsh storm before the sunny day. All great changes are preceded by chaos. 

Still. Nothing can fill that void. Why?  

Realizing that everyone has voids that can never be filled in their hearts. Little ones the size of a crumb denting into your skin before you lay cozy in bed or the size of an influx of emotion like a heartbreak.  

The problem isn’t the void. 

The problem is how you handle the existence of your void. 

Relying on myself can only get me so far. Instead, I found peace in knowing there are people dealing with far deeper voids than my conflict in question of my sanctuary. Selfish? Or a survivor's instinct.  

In countless ways, I am grateful for the experiences. Slowly bending me into shape, making me stronger, harder and well-equipped to deal with colossal curveballs God has in store for me. Without the dark we would never see the stars.  

To answer the question, I believe that I can find a home everywhere I make memories, build relationships and learn essential lessons. The question was never England vs Bangladesh, but rather the life having lived in the two worlds shaping me into the person I am today. Quite clichéd, right? 

Years 7 - 8

Lara Evans: ‘Behind Glass’

Imagine giving your life over. For your country. I know it's all been said before. But seriously, take a moment. Think. Allowing your loved ones to gift wrap their lives, their whole lives, hopes and dreams. Accomplishments and loves, growing old. Snatching their opportunity to feel, to allow the fangs of that raw sadness to pierce your flesh. The joy to lift you up from the inside, from under your feet. All in a box. Knowing it is about to be thrown into the dust, chucked aside like millions of others. Inferior to the great quantity. Just a part of an underappreciated world. 

Just take a moment to immerse your thoughts into someone else's life. Can we be brave enough? For one minute, to face the reality that loomed not over so many young lives but sparked a fire deep inside. Hopeful, growing, hypnotising, mesmerising. Raging, engulfing, consuming. Snatching all the air with its freshly sharpened claws. Suffocating. The reality of so many, overlooked and underappreciated. It clings on desperately like a swirling sprig of smoke. 

And when the war was over, the utter, joyous celebration. Not of their government's victory. But of the promise, that approached with wide open arms, that their lives can stay with them, before them, in their hands. 

Imagine. Your loved one’s gift wrapping their lives in a box. Lives. Not the word. The meaning. Behind glass watching them hold up their little paper package, above their heads, to be snatched and thrown upon a dusty shelf, by a supposedly ‘’superior’’ life. But as you gaze upon, you know the screws will loosen. You know how many boxes, and humble, innocent little packages will fall into the abyss below. Crash land on the cold, hard floor. Then to be swept away without a thought. A nuisance. Is one day enough to appreciate? 

Two minutes of worldwide thought and silence. Does it all add up to enough, or do you think these packages of hopes, loves and hates are worth more? Same goes for pride month. I could list them all for hours. 

But can we appreciate all this, as well as ourselves? Is it better to appreciate the moment, people around you? Take the time to smile at the next person who walks past you, with their head down. Stand up tall and pick out all the positives around you. 

How far can we go back into the frayed knotted ball of wool that is history? How much can we understand, and follow the string untie the knots? It trails off into the horizon, filled to the brim, spilling over. Lost and never to be found. But what about what we have found? The lives in and around us? We are blessed to be where we are now. Blessed to have our opinions. So, what about you? What do you think? Can we appreciate every step behind us? In the staircase of life? Can we smile on every step in front of us, that we skip across? Should we? Pull it all loose? Dive back in, or feel what is close? You tell me.