Author Archives: Susan Walsh

Sharing our Learning – Statistics

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Have you ever wondered which coloured jelly bean is easiest to identify by taste alone? How about which one is the most difficult to identify? This question formed the basis of a statistical investigation in both hubs in Team Pōhutukawa. 



We worked together to gather data and then were able to make statements using the data as evidence. (In case you were wondering, the easiest colour to identify is definitely black, and the hardest one appears to be pink!) Of course, nobody minded testing the colours!




We are now working in groups on our own statistical investigations, using Google Forms to gather data. It is a real challenge to ask the right questions so that the data we gather will be useful.

When our surveys are completed Google Forms automatically generates graphs to show us the information we have gathered. Here are some examples:



This is such valuable information for our teachers! 






Food Gathering

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What did the Maori use to carry food away from the river and ponds? This was a long time before supermarkets and plastic bags. They used the harakeke that grew by the river to make kete. We were lucky to be able to learn how to make our own kete. Does this mean we'll never have to go to the supermarket again?




Thank you to Pam or showing us how to weave harakeke.



Gallipoli

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BANG…   

“Look out!”

We run across the cold soft ground, dodging bullets. My heart pounds out of my chest, while people drop dead around us.

“We better go back!”

Suddenly my life-long friend drops dead. I run back. Blood, sweat and tears fall down my ice cold cheeks. I jump back into the trench. I feel like going home, but I know I must go on.

All of a sudden a horrible stench flouts up. I vomit. It just makes it worst. I can’t take it any more. My stomach rumbles. It sounds like a earthquake.

By Hannah

The light flashes. Red. Red. Green. The ship’s door opens. In two seconds I hear gunfire. The guy in the front is shot. Luckily I was at the back. I had to trample over him.

Suddenly I look at the bombers flying overhead. “Boom!” A grenade is thrown  I see a grenade is thrown again. I am right by. It deafens  me! I wipe the mud on my face. Red blood fills the beach and the water. We make progress. At 5pm we take over their trenches.

I see a head get blown off.  I don’t really want to get up and shoot but I have to.

By Reuben